I finished stacking my dishes; pushed them forward into Miss’s vines and then watched her leave, bound for the kitchen and singing softly to herself. As soon as Miss was out of sight, Ratio leaned forward over the table. “What did you do?” she asked, a gleam in her eye.

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied, snapping my attention away from the nosy girl. I jumped down from my seat and headed for the sofa.

 

“Oh, come on! Tell me!” Ratio whined, quickly catching up with me.

 

I gave an annoyed sigh, stopped and faced her. “We had a conversation and some stuff was said. Stuff that was…” I stopped, gave another frustrated sigh; turned and continued towards the sofa.

 

“Stuff?” Ratio asked.

 

“Stuff,” I confirmed.

 

I had barely reached the sofa before Ratio piped back up. “Zeithaaa!! Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!” She yelled, tugging at my shirt.

 

I slapped the sofa. “Fine! Sit down and listen closely. I will not be repeating this.”

 

“Repeating what?” Miss asked.

 

“Oh, come on!” I cried out. I eyed Ratio suspiciously. “Did you plan this?”

 

“Nope! But what an interesting turn of events!” she giggled.

 

I let out a third frustrated sigh, followed by a grunt. “You both are just the absolute worst! You,” I pointed at Miss. “Sit down and let’s get this over with.”

 

Ratio gasped; Miss on the other hand raised one eyebrow and looked at me condescendingly amused. I curled my outstretched finger and lowered my hand, averting my gaze. Well, that was a rather stupid thing to do…

 

“Bold choice of words,” Miss laughed. Ratio and I were picked up and subsequently placed on either side of Miss, on the Affini-sized sofa. “Would you like to try again Star?” I nodded. “Good! Go on then.”

 

I took in a breath and tried to regain some of my composure. “Miss, would you ever be so kind and grace our presence as I inform my pinnate of the events that occurred last night.”

 

“I would be delighted to! Though you’ll need to address me by my full title if you wish to recall the events accurately,” she grinned.

 

I looked at her confused and then 3 grand seconds later was flooded with realisation. “No! I’m not doing it! Nope, no, nada, nicht, nein, nee, non, na!”

 

“Is that so?” Vines slowly encased me, starting at my legs as they were bound and brought close to one another; then moving up, across my knees and thighs, around my stomach and you get the rest. I gave a half struggle, more for performance’s sake than anything else. Miss finished sushifying me (think sushi rolls but with a rolled-up Zeitha), sat me upright and placed me in her lap while Ratio watched me amused.

 

“You had to know that was coming,” Ratio teased.

 

“Yes. Yes.” I retorted. “Miss, can I please have a head pillow if you’re going to keep me like this?” A vine brushed past my neck sending tingles down my body before it bundled up and rested left of my neck. I tilted my head to rest against it. “This is becoming far too normal,” I mused.

 

“That looks super comfortable,” Ratio said, her eyes betraying her desire. Fortunately for her, she didn’t have to wait long as she was quickly bundled and placed in a similar position, with her head tilting to her right.

 

“I have a feeling we’ll be adopting these positions more often in the future~,” Miss chimed.

 

“It’s comfortable,” I admitted.

 

“Mega comfortable!” Ratio added.

 

“That’s it’s, darlings.” Vines moved under our chins and gave light scritches. “Now, we have some time before Star’s second trial and I believe a story would be a great way to fill in that time~.” Miss rubbed my ear.

 

“Fineeeeeeee.” I proceeded to recount the previous night’s events for both Ratio and Miss. An attempt was made to leave out some of the finer details, but of course, Miss ensured I was thorough in my description and by the end, both girls were fawning over me as I tried to hide my embarrassment. Unfortunately, it’s difficult to hide when you’re sushified and the vultures that they are weaponised that against me. Looking back, it was certainly one of the highlights of my day as the events soon to transpire would leave me nearly broken.

 

 

The sound of footsteps pounded against the stairs. I opened my eyes and found myself in a small room, with a single window, two beds, a cupboard and not much else. It was dusty; dark and mould had infested all corners of the ceiling. My younger brother lay on the bed opposite me, his back turned to the door.

 

Crash! The door swung open and a tall man stood in the doorway, an angry expression on his face. “I thought I told the both of you to be downstairs by 1!” he yelled.

 

I pulled the cover close. “We’re not feeling well,” I protested weakly. “I don’t think we can go swimming today.”

 

“The hell you can’t! The both of you look healthy enough, now get your asses up! You have 5 minutes.” He didn’t wait for a reply, the door slammed shut causing some of the dust to jump before it slowly settled back towards the ground. I removed my bedding and noticed I was fully dressed.

 

A small pack lay to my side and I started to fill it with swimming gear. My brother, however, continued to lay with his back to the door. “Steve, you’re going to have to get up. He’s only going to get angrier if you stay up here,” I said.

 

“I don’t want to!” he yelled back.

 

“I know… I know. But you have to get up. I really do feel sick and I don’t feel like taking his abuse today.”

 

“Ugh! It’s always about you! Always about what you want!” he yelled dismissively.

 

“Wha? Fuck you! If you knew half the shit… Whatever. Grab your own fucking things! I’m heading downstairs. If you want to stay up here and if that means he hits you, I’m not getting in the way this time.” I didn’t wait for his reply. I slammed the door behind me and bound downstairs. Like step-father like son.

 

My world plunged into darkness and quickly reformed. I was in a pool, splashing the water and having some semblance of fun. A rare occurrence I thought to myself. I caught my father’s eye and crawled my way to the end of the pool.

 

“Matthew, are you ready to try the adult pool?” he asked.

 

“No. Can I stay here and keep practising?” I pleaded.

 

Father gave a deep frustrated sigh and looked at me with unimpressed eyes. “Grow some balls son. How do you ever expect to learn if you keep hiding away hmm?”

 

“But I don’t want to learn,” I protested meekly.

 

“What was that!?”

 

“Nothing!”

 

“That’s what I thought,” he grunted. My arm was grabbed and I was pulled towards the larger pool. We passed the shallow section and continued onwards until we reached the deepest part, much to my confusion. “Take your bands off,” he demanded.

 

“But I need them to swim!” I protested.

 

“I will not ask you again. Take them off!”

 

I slowly removed both bands and handed them away, all the while glancing nervously at the pool, the bottom of which I couldn’t see. I looked around and couldn’t find a way in. “How do I get in?” I asked.

 

“Like this.” Suddenly, without any warning, I was pushed from my side and went spiralling towards the pool. I crashed on my left side and sucked in a large gulp of water as I sank beneath the surface. Panic enveloped me as I thrashed my arms wildly trying to stay afloat. I resurfaced, my head and heart pounding and my eyes sore from the chlorine. I coughed up some water, went back under, resurfaced and coughed again. “You’re doing it wrong!” he yelled. “Remember what I taught you! Circular motions!”

 

“I can’t!” I screamed, before going back under and gulping another mouthful of water. “Dad! Help! Please!”

 

“Son, you’ll either learn to swim as I did, or you’ll drown. Now stop fucking around and do what I taught you!”

 

Try as I might, I couldn’t. I sank further into the pool and resurfaced one final time before my energy gave way and I began to sink. A hand reached down, grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out of the pool and onto the surrounding tiles.

 

“Useless,” father said dejectedly.

 

Between my coughing up water and taking in deep needy breaths, I had barely caught the arrival of a nearby lady. “Ehm, excuse me?”

 

“Yes, Madam?” Father replied.

 

“I saw what happened just now and I don’t think you should be treating your son like that,” she said.

 

“My apologies, I didn’t realise you were this one’s mother.”

 

The lady looked confused. “I’m not his mother-“

 

“No, you’re not!” Father yelled. “And I would like you to keep that in mind while you kindly leave and mind your own damn business.” She left, cursing under her breath and threw me a pitied look. I had barely recovered before I was pulled to my feet. “Again,” father commanded.

 

“No! Please don’t!” I yelled.

 

“Get in, or I’ll throw you in.”

 

I made my way to the edge. I looked down at the pool and couldn’t tell if the water running down my face was my tears or from the pool. I must have been thinking about that for too long as a hand pushed against me and I was flailing towards the surface once more.

 

The world distorted and I was now sitting in the seat of some transport. “How did you do in your test today?” father asked.

 

“Really well! I only got 3 answers wrong!” I boasted.

 

Father examined my report sheet, scrunched it up and tutted. “I expect better. No games tonight.”

 

“But I came top of my class!” I flailed.

 

“And your point is? Did you get full marks?” He asked.

 

“No…

 

“Then you didn’t do your best and ergo there will be no games tonight.”

 

“Yes Sir,” I said defeated.

 

Father outstretched his hand. “Your report card, hand it over.” I retrieved a pink sheet from my bag and handed it to him. He glanced at it before his eyes narrowed. “Suspended!? We’ve talked about this damn it!”

 

“It wasn’t my fault! I was defending myself and-“

 

“Enough! We’ll talk about this later. I warned you that your actions have consequences. It’s time you started learning that.”

 

That night I split my chin open. I was in the half bath, half shower and being hosed down by water deliberately turned on its coldest setting, in a house with no heating, in the middle of winter. I didn’t last long and desperately tried to get out, but each time my stepdad would push me back. At some point, I slipped on the water, fell forward and smashed my chin against the side. Blood seeped from my large wound and I began bawling.

 

“Man up!” he yelled, as my mother watched from the sidelines. “It’s only a little bump!”

 

It was, in fact, not “only a little bump” as it required stitches from the nearby hospital. When they asked how it had happened my stepdad was quick to answer. “I had tripped on my way home after being out late.” I was asked by the doctor if this was true, took one look at my stepdad’s face and nodded. On the way home I was bought a small packet of sweets for being “so incredibly brave” and allowed to stay up for 30 minutes before being sent to bed.

 

The memory faded and was replaced by another and then another. This time I was in a living room watching sports. Empty cans littered the table and the man to my left was screaming profusely at the TV. The final whistle blew and the game was over; his favourite team had lost the cup. He picked up his can and threw it at the TV. Seeing his anger, I attempted to slip away.

 

“Where do you think you’re going,” he slurred.

 

“To bed. It’s late and I have school tomorrow,” I replied.

 

“Clean this mess up first,” he ordered.

 

“It’s not my mess.”

 

“Are you talking back to me?”

 

“Dad, it’s not my mess. I’m tired, please just let me sleep.”

 

“No son of mine will talk to me like that,” he said, removing his belt and walking toward me. “Turn around.” I knew running would only make it worse. I removed my shirt and turned to face the bannister. By the third strike, I was sobbing; by the sixth, I was screaming in pain. I lay on my side that night crying to myself and regretting my defiance.

 

We were in a holiday cabin. I had just retrieved a pitcher, not that I knew what a pitcher was, and made my way upstairs. Turns out, what I had grabbed was a pint glass, a mistake I would not be making twice. Having been furious that I had retrieved the wrong item, I was dragged downstairs towards the glass cabinet. “This!” he screamed, raising a pitcher, “Is a pitcher! This!” he took the glass from my hands, “Is a pint glass!” He lifted the pint glass and drew it down atop my head where it shattered and drew blood. My brother looked at me horrified as I knelt and began picking up the broken shards with my bare hands as our father walked back upstairs to his bed.

 

I was now in a kitchen, an empty bottle of pills in my hand. I felt sick and nauseous but at peace. I sat down, closed my eyes and waited for it all to be over. In a cruel twist of fate, father entered the kitchen, shopping in hand. He looked down at me and then at the empty bottle in my hands. “How many did you take?” he asked.

 

“All of them.”

 

“Throw them up,” he said coldly.

 

“No.”

 

“Matthew. Throw them up.”

 

“No.”

 

“Fine.” He placed the shopping on the side, grabbed me by the back of my neck and pulled me up. His other fist was brought forward and landed hard on my stomach, causing me to drop to the floor as I gagged and threw the pills up. The man looked down at me and then at the sick. “Clean this up before your mother gets back, and Matthew, if you tell her what happened here…” He didn’t finish the point, one look at my face was all he needed to know that I understood what he was implying. He left disgusted, while my vision swam and my face rested against the sick-covered floor.

 

The memory began to shift to another.

 

“ENOUGH!” I cried out. The memories cut away, leaving me alone in a dark abyss. I curled up against the floor and pulled my tails tight to my chest. “I can’t do this!” I cried. “I’m too weak. Please don’t make me do this…”

 

A memory faded in of Miss, Ratio and me.

 

“Star, it’s important we go over this one last time. Whatever you encounter in there can’t hurt you, but, if it gets too much you have your safe word; use it and I’ll pull you straight out,” Miss said.

 

“I’ll be fine,” I groaned. “Seriously, the both of you worry too much!”

 

“You will be fine!” Ratio added cheerily. “Whatever comes your way, just smother it in hugs. No one can resist hugs.”

 

“I’ll have you know I can resist hugs thank you very much,” I stated matter of factly.

 

“Is that so?” she teased and dived into my chest, wrapping her hands around my waist.

 

I gave a startled grunt. “Sis, get off me! Stars! I don’t think you’re taking this at all seriously!”

 

“You’re going to be fine,” she whispered. “If any bad memories come up, I’ll hug them away until you’re safe again.”

 

I looked down at the android girl and found myself smiling. I took my free hand and gently rubbed her head. “It reassures me to know I have someone as brave as you protecting me,” I teased and kissed her head. I looked up. “Miss, I’m ready.”

 

Miss leant down and kissed me on the head. “Stay safe.” I began to get drowsy and fell into her embrace.

 

The memory dissipated into a fog leaving me once again alone in the void. I cried and swore and did a great many other not-so-mature things and in the end felt better for it. A decision needed to be made; was I going to brave my past again? Or would I call it quits and admit I was the failure I had always been painted out to be?

 

Never let it be said that spite isn’t a good motivator.

 

The second round wasn’t as bad as the first. I still ended it crying and feeling sorry for myself, but I bounced back a little faster. It didn’t take three attempts, nor four, nor five. In the end, it had taken me nine different cycles to come to terms with my fear.

 

I was in a room. My stepdad sitting in a recliner and seeing me enter the room, eyed me angrily.

 

“Sit down,” he commanded.

 

“No, I don’t think I will.”

 

“You’ll do as I tell you!” he shouted.

 

I ignored him. “I’ve come to say goodbye. I’ve let you live rent-free in my head for far too long. No more.”

 

He stood up, removed his belt and stood before me. Seeing him like this I noticed he wasn’t half as scary as I remember. He was taller and had more muscles than me, but he was also aged; being in his mid-30s but looking to be in his late 50s. I looked up at him and pitied him. He was a sad man who lived a sad existence. One who could only feel strong by praying on the weak. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t weak anymore. The belt came down and struck my arm. I flinched, but it didn’t hurt. Then it struck across my leg and this time I didn’t flinch. Finally, he aimed for the face. Before it landed, I caught it in one hand and ripped it away from him. I pulled the belt taut and raised it towards him. He cowered before me and every fibre of my being wanted to hit him with the belt; to lash out at him and enact my revenge. But then I thought to myself, how would we be any different? I looked at the belt and threw it away in disgust, knelt and spoke to him at eye level.

 

“I despise you. I despise every fibre of your being. I despise the happiness that you stole from me, the misery you inflicted on my family, the emotions you sealed away and the person I had to grow up to become as a result of your influence. I hope your days are long and full of misery. I hope you never find happiness and if there is a hell, that you end up there and get everything you deserve. I will never forgive you, but we’re done. You’re no longer my burden to carry and I refuse to be the person you moulded me into any longer.”

 

I stood up, and as if on impulse, brought my arms wide, my hands outstretched. I brought my hands slowly together, the room twisting violently as it shrunk to fit them. At first, it was easy, but the closer my hands came, the more force that was required; similar to two magnets repelling each other. With the last of my will, I cried out and slammed my hands together, the room completely buckled and compressed into my grasp. I opened one palm to find the room trapped in a little crystal ball, no bigger than 3 cm in diameter.

 

A large chest materialised in front of me and I inspected the insides to find various other balls, each containing another negative emotion or memory. I knew that if I dropped the ball in here, I would be safe, at least for a time; however, this box would need to be opened again and I didn’t trust that opening the box wouldn’t set him free. I closed the lid.

 

“Never again,” I said to myself.

 

I took both hands and squeezed down hard on the ball. It didn’t work. As I said earlier, I had used all my will to form the crystal ball; destroying it was currently out of my reach. I wanted to scream and cry in anguish and I could feel the ball buckling to break free as it slowly grew in size. I prayed and begged any higher power to help me, to grant me one last ounce of strength to finish the task I had resolved myself to. To my surprise, my wish was granted.

 

Two phantom arms encased over mine and tightened my grip on the ball. “Together,” an unknown voice whispered from behind me, as the both of us squeezed the ball. It made a loud noise and cracked and I knew the end was in sight. With the last of my borrowed energy, I finished the job and the ball shattered into a million shards before fizzling into dust as they were swept away by a none existent wind.

 

I collapsed, my energy exhausted and my strength fading. I pulled my tails close once more and began to cry. Not out of fear, misery or being hurt. No, I cried freely because finally, after all this time, the demon of my nightmares was gone; never to return.

 

I cried because I was free.

 

…

 

Wrath ☑️