ELION
I am not thrilled to come here. I am just driven by plain curiosity to see how my father's new daughter is. And if she is beautiful enough for me to play with. And also because I want to bring trouble with me. It's been so long since I last made Barbara feel uncomfortable. The goal is to make her feel so uncomfortable that she will leave Dad like the other women did. Dad does not deserve happiness, neither do the women who get hooked with him also. It's not fair. Barbara's daughter surely will fall on her knees for me. She must be getting so happy about getting into a wealthy life. She should at least work for it. If she pleases me well enough. I might let her and her mother play part of the Mayers family in peace. If she doesn't, or is not beautiful enough, then well....
The thought of Dad finding out about me and his daughter when, and if I do take her to bed keeps me chuckling to myself. It takes time for the damn security scanner to verify. When it finally did, it shows green and the gates opens. I sneer at the effort that Dad is putting in to ensure his safety and security after doing shit left and right. If he still has enemies like those ones from before who are thirsty for revenge, then his new wife and daughter would have to pay the price like my Mom did. I would love to see his face when that happens. Those thoughts brings back the memory of my mother's death. A claustrophobic feeling shoots up in my chest. Every breath I drag into my lungs feels painful. My chest feels like it's in a vise.
I can't get enough air.I feel myself being held down by some invisible force of hands and muscles. My throat is burning like I had screamed on top of my lungs. I feel them closing up. All at once, I feel like that seven year old boy again. The scene and the pain fresh in my mind like it happened yesterday—happening now. I watch as the gates comes back together to a close. I shakily open the pigeon hole, searching for my antipsychotics. I got a hold of it and popped down three pills. Everything calmed after a short while. I met with my therapist just a while ago. He gave me this meds when I told him about my rage symptoms and the recurring nightmares. I could not help but reason what would have happened to me if I had not met him today. This is the most worse trauma attack I have had in years. I pull myself back together by repeatedly muttering that it is not real—it is not happening now. 'But it did happen' my subconscious tells. I yell out shut up to it like a madman. It kept silent, and I became fully relaxed. Dr John's words echoes in my head as I drive into the compound. "The meds only mitigate the aftermath and prevents it from getting worse. It is up to you to stop it. To do that, you need to erase that time and memory from your mind." He had spoken like it is an easy thing to do. No one can go through what I did and come out sane.
I see someone—a young girl sitting on a bench besides one of the fountains. I know instantly that it is Barbara's daughter—it must be, I mean, the only ladies here are the golddigger herself and the housekeepers. None of them is as young as the girl sitting on the bench and bathed in the soft amber glow of my car's headlights. I step down from the car. I pretend not to see her as I hop the stairs. I pause, throwing a glance in her direction as I her felt her gaze on me. It gives an almost tangible feeling to it. The glance I intended becomes a stare. My brows knits as I observe the small figure on the bench. One oddly familiar. Confusion set in as I fully realize who she is. What is she doing here?
"Little whore?" I call, hoping for it to not be her. For it to be someone else and not the uninteresting girl I know. She gasps. "What are you doing here Elion?"
"What are you doing in my damn house, little whore?"
"I told you not to call me that!"
"Fucking answer the question!" She flinches at my harsh tone. The fear on her face cannot be anything compared to the disappointment within me. Disappointment that she is that woman's daughter and my supposed stepsister. "Don't tell me you that slut golddigger's daughter?"
There is a questioning look on her face at how I know that. Then it changes to anger. "I just asked you a question!" I grate out, impatient for an answer even when I already know it is going to be nothing short of confirmative.
"What is your problem, Mayers?" She snaps. "You just come out of nowhere and start pouring fire on me and calling my mother a golddigger? Your mom is the slut golddigger!" The last sentence dreadfully echoes in my head. I am seeing red. How dare she insult my mother? "What did you just say?" My fist curl at my side. That was a dare for her to repeat it. So I will have a reason to cut off her insolent mouth. Her mouth snaps shut. Then it opens, "Who are you to call my mother a golddigger huh?" Nice. But not deflective to the first one.