Coming Home (8)

After our nine hour drive of mostly silence and waiting, we finally started pulling up the driveway. Once we were parked, dad started helping me unload my things. I walked in the front door hoping for a warm welcoming greeting and what I got was the opposite. My step mom was walking past the front door inside when I said hello. She didn’t respond. She wasn’t even fazed my my words to her, and I was hurt. She walked passed me without even making eye contact and went into her bedroom shutting the door behind her. All I could do in that moment was cry because I was told that things were different. I hoped so much that my life was shifting and I knew in that moment that I had walked back into the lion’s den.  Things weren’t different at all. I put my luggage in my room and sat on my bed wishing I would have thought harder before deciding to leave, but there wasn’t a lot I could do to fix it. My only options were to take the abuse that I tried to get away from for years.

“I started to take off my shirt when I noticed a figure in the window above the bathtub. We made eye contact.”

I continued being nice to her and treating her how I wanted to be treated and she continued to pretend I didn’t exist. I wanted nothing more than her love, and she wanted nothing from me. I had hoped that one day we could mend our relationship. I didn’t have a mother and I wanted her to love me. A few weeks later my older brother and I were home alone. We had never had issues in the past as far as getting along goes. He did try to get me into trouble a few times, but I feel like brother’s tend to do that. I should probably go ahead and tell you that he was my step mom’s son, but not from my father. In other words he was my step brother.


Growing up my step brother and I got along quite well. Amidst me telling wacky stories and trying to impress the kids that came over he always seemed to be level minded, but we were only kids. We grew up together from the age of 4 and 5 on, and we were practically siblings. I went into the bathroom to take a shower and was doing my usual picking at my face and judging myself in the mirror. I started to take off my shirt when I noticed a figure in the window above the bathtub. We made eye contact.

I was filled with a hot boiling rage and put myself back together and climbed up to the window and watched him crawl down a ladder that was propped against the house. He walked across the yard looking defeated and came into the house. He sat in a chair across the room from where I was sitting and I couldn’t think of anything to say. After a few awkward moments he asked if I was going to tell mom and dad, and I told him no. I stated that I wouldn’t tell them on the condition that he stopped trying to get me in trouble and contributing to his mother’s hate. He agreed to treat me better and we went on our way.

Another month or so passed with the usual arguments and bickering that my step mom and I shared, and things were seemingly back to normal. When again I was left alone with my older brother. I thought to myself, he would never be stupid enough to do it again. I was wrong. I went into the bathroom and this time I heard the silent sound of the ladder being put against the outside wall. I took this as an opportunity to attack. I crouched down into the tub fully clothed and waited for him to peep his eyes into the small window. Once he did it I climbed to where my face was right in front of his and I scared the shit out of him. He was so scared he jumped from the ladder and ran into the house.

The same situation we were in only a month before, and his question was the same. Are you going to tell mom and dad? My answer this time was yes. I told him he was disgusting and I couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing. I awaited the return of my dad because I just knew he’d protect me.


Taylor J.


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