𓆩♡𓆪

Ethan Miler

11 November

It was my birthday.

I wouldn't say I was happy. But I wasn't sad either. Dad had scolded me because I didn't want to come out to meet his esteemed guests. I argued it was my birthday, not some business conference. Even though he called me useless, I didn't take it to heart. I thought he still loved me as his son.

I quietly went back to my room. I hadn't used social media for a few days because my little brother said he didn't like me because of that. I didn't want him to hate me. I loved him. After all, I had promised mom that I would take care of him.

But I really needed to do a live stream at that time. I was upset, but I had people who valued me rather than using me. I had people who wanted to talk to me.

To avoid getting caught, I locked the door and started setting up the phone stand but before I could go further, I heard a knock on my door.

"Shoot." I quickly hid the stand under the sheets and prepared to answer the door. I hoped it wasn't dad, asking me to meet another business partner of his.

"God, please." I prayed as I swung the door open to see Edwin.

I smiled at him but he shoved me out of his way and entered. I was still grinning because it was him.

He sat down on the bed while I closed the door shut.

"Ou--" He gasped. He sat right where I hid the phone stand. He removed the sheets and held it up in his hand while I crossed my arms and nodded," I know I know."

"Then you shouldn't do it." He gritted.

"I was feeling down." I answered simply.

"Like I give two fucks about that?" He threw it on the bed and sat down again.

"Why do you insist I leave social media though? Did dad ask you to--"

"We don't talk like this. We don't talk at all." He reminded me. It was true we never really talked to each other because he disliked me. If things were in my control, I would've loved my brother dearly. But he never let me love him.

"And yet you're here." I smiled.

"It's because that fucker out there is asking me to do this and that. It's exhausting." He sighed and layed back," Why did you have to be born today?"

"Did you have other plans?" I asked. I didn't mind what he said. I knew he didn't mean it.

"Like I would tell you?" He side-eyed me.

"That's the fee for staying in my room."

"Just...this girl I saw few days ago. The one in your class." He spoke, looking at the ceiling. From the look on his face, I could tell he was serious about this mysterious girl.

"Someone from my class caught your eye?" I rushed towards the bed and sat beside him.

"Sto-- Stop acting like that you douche." He punched my arm and it actually hurt.

"You know her name?" I asked him regardless.

"I don't need your help, if you're thinking that." He said effortlessly.

"Sure? I'm the go-to person if you want to know about students. I practically know everyone." I said.

"Argh!" He shot up," You just keep talking and talking." He complained. I knew he was shy by then. That was his way of showing it and I wasn't supposed to give up. It was his way of asking help and if I said 'fine then, if you don't need my help', he would've been sad.

"Help is free of cost." I said.

"It was...the time when... you know, when I punched you in the face and she was standing at the door, looking at us." He said after biting his lips. He stuttered. It wasn't an 'Edwin' thing. He must've been really lovestruck.

"Gwen Smith?" I immediately knew who it was," She seems nice."

"Don't. She's mine to court." He pushed me and layed down again.

"Gwen..." He muttered her name.

Gwen Smith was a usual occurence in my day. I didn't know if it was coincidental. It probably was. She didn't seem to be interested in me because she never really approached me. Thinking my brother was interested in her, I could only feel happy. She was a great choice.

"Hey, does she talk to you?" Edwin sat back up.

"Not at all."

"Then why was she there?" He questioned.

"I don't know." I shrugged.

"Are you interested in her?" He asked.

"If she would've approached me first, I would've definitely tried to get to know her better." I spoke the truth.

"I'll make sure she never does." He smirked.

"Edwin, there's just one thing. Don't force her." I said, knowing his exact personality. He would get whatever he wanted regardless of the method.

"You talk too much." He stood up," Anyway, dad wants you to change and come downstairs after all the guests arrive."

The smile on my face dropped.

***

The guests had arrived. I wasn't ready. I hadn't gone down either. I knew dad would be angry. After all, he was going to announce me next in line to become the chairman.

I studied business because of him. I wanted to major in journalism. I changed my whole career for him. What else was I supposed to do to satisfy him? I wanted to live my life freely, not sitting at the chairman's desk. Besides, Edwin was better and also interested. Why couldn't it be him?

***

"You're a disgrace to the family name!" Dad slapped me hard in front of everyone. Those who were chatting away and having drinks paused to look at us.

"Dad."

"Don't call me that." He growled.

"How dare you show up in these clothes?! I prepared the best suit for you. And you say you don't want to be the heir? What's gotten into you?" He questioned.

"I don't like it!" I shouted," I don't want to be the next in li--!" He slapped me again before I could finish.

"Get back to your room and don't you go to bed or go out before I come." He warned me before walking away to grab a drink.

I turned back on the staircase to see Edwin standing with his clenched fists, glaring at dad. I gave him a reassuring tap on his shoulder as I climbed past him to my room.

No, I wasn't feeling happy anymore.

I was worried about dad coming to my room after the event. I wondered who would cut the cake. No, it didn't even matter. No one cared.

I was too depressed to do a live stream anymore. I couldn't go to bed and just anticipate how much dad was going to punish me and scold me. It was the first time in three months that he had hit me. He was never severe.

He couldn't afford to turn me against him, after all.

But his words hurt.

I needed someone to understand me. I needed someone with whom I could share what I was going through. That the perfect Ethan Miler with perfect personality, perfect grades, perfect reputation, perfect house, perfect family...was not so perfect after all.

I wanted a shoulder to cry on.

I wanted someone who could give me warm hugs.

I wanted to feel at peace.

***

It was around 9:20 PM when someone banged on my door loudly. I jumped up. It was dad.

"I told you not to go off to sleep!" He yelled, the banging continued.

I had an eerie feeling as I approached the door.

Should I have not opened it?

As soon as he stepped in and locked the door behind me, he slapped me hard. It felt like a sting on the cheek.

"Dad."

"Do not!" He slapped," Call me!" again, " Dad!" and again, until I fell on the ground. He was drunk. It wasn't going to end well at all.

He killed mom when he was drunk.

I layed low, trying not to offend him any further. I accepted his hits even though it hurt. I knew earlier, that I didn't deserve the verbal and mental abuse. But now, seeing him so angered, I couldn't help but think I had done such a big crime.

Could someone tell me it wasn't my fault? Anyone?

"You ungrateful son of a bitch! Why do you think I raised you? So that you'd go out looking homeless and announce you don't want my fucking wealth? If only Edwin could control his anger, he would've been my first and only choice! I wouldn't have even looked your way because you make me feel so sick!"

"I'm sorry." I said. He lifted me, grabbing a handful of my hair with one hand and looked around frantically before settling his eyes on the bed-frame.

He dragged me along, towards the frame. Before I could comprehend anything and tell him to stop, he banged my head against the frame mercilessly.

I removed his hand and attempted to push him back. Everything felt black. My world was spinning. I lost my hearing, replaced by a beep sound which was getting to me. I felt bile rise in my throat as I fell down, facing my dad who had retained his balance again.

Something warm trickled down my forehead, down my nose, touching my upper lip. It was blood, as I tasted the metallic liquid.

I pleaded, thinking dad had finally snapped out of it and seen me bleed. I wished he'd pick me up and get me to the hospital, until he pulled out the longest knife I'd ever seen.

He had come prepared to kill me.

He recklessly threw off his ring that he adorned to life. Of course, he wouldn't let it get stained.

And it would be a pity, if it didn't have my blood on it if I died that night.

The ring, which had landed in my close proximity, was urging me to stain it. If only a clever officer ever looked at it, this man I used to call dad, would suffer for all his deeds. If. Only.

"Stop." I hardly spoke. I crawled towards the ring, when my phone fell out of my pocket. It buzzed. Twice.

I looked back at that man, shaking his head because he was too drunk to kill me perfectly. He wasn't looking. I picked up my phone, hiding it in front of me while he stood somewhere behind.

It was an Instagram request from a name I recognised. Gwen Smith. I couldn't read what she had written. It was blurry.

"I'm going to kill you well, son." The man snickered behind me," No one's going to find out. No evidences. No witnesses. Just a coward taking his own life." He pulled my legs to drag me closer to him.

I gritted and knew what to type. I didn't know whether I typed right or not, but I begged heavens that she'd understand.

You're the witness.

It was then 9:25:36 PM. Five minutes were what my life was worth of. In five minutes, everything changed.

I slid the phone under the bed before he turned me around, grabbed my neck and made me sit against the bed frame again. I knew he was going to bang my head again and he did. Thrice before my face was completely covered in blood.

I fell on my side. Please...help me Gwen. Gwen. Gwen Smith.

Those were the last words that ever echoed in my head before I was completely blank like I had forgotten what had happened to me.

When I regained consciousness, I felt like air.

My own voice rang in my head. Please...help me Gwen. Gwen. Gwen Smith.

Maybe, my alive self wanted her to help me. How could I not listen to myself, my own pleading?

And that's how, our story started.

THE END