"Be awake early tomorrow morning, 'Lena."

I shiver and curl up farther into my covers. I don't know what he has in store for me. He's never up earlier than he has to be, which is usually around the time I get home. It's Spring now. I turn eighteen in another couple months and graduate the month after that. Or, maybe, if I pass the test I have in Pre-Calc today.

I hear footsteps and then my doorknob turns and the door opens. He shuts it behind him and locks it, grinning at me with the sickest look in his eye since The Zoo. I want to stay curled up under the covers, but I know I'm going to get dragged out of them anyway, so I uncover myself and sit up.

He chuckles under his breath and his eyes glint under the little bit of sunlight trickling in through the window. He is awake at sunrise for the first time since I've known him as Stepmonster.

"Get outta that bed."

He grabs my wrist tight enough to leave bruises. Great, I'm awake extra early just for a morning beating.

I'm thrown to the floor and somehow find a rock or something with my ribs. He doesn't have his boots on, but he has shoes on that are similar enough to them to make me mentally cringe. He kicks me in the stomach right over the scar from Chase's cronies. Good thing I'm all healed or my stitches would have come completely undone. As it is, I lose all my breath and his constant kicks to my stomach, my ribs, my back--even my groin--make it impossible to get any of it back. I gasp when he gives me a break and then almost scream at the pain that sends through my body. Not good. Really not good. I have school, I can't be seriously injured.

His chuckle fills the room again and so does a zipper.

It's not just a beating.

***

"Slut... Whore... 'Lena... My 'Lena... My bitch..."

I jump as a hand lands on my shoulder, twirling around to face my would-be attacker with my heart beating faster than a hummingbird's wings, my fight-or-flight ingrained instinct kicking in.

"Philena! It's just me."

Adam's voice takes a little while to sink into my adrenaline-filled brain, but when it does my hands begin to shake and I turn back around to my locker, grabbing up my Pre-Calculus book for class. I'm passing now, thanks to Adam.

"Philena? Are you okay?"

I calm the shakes and trembles, breathe deeply and look at him, smiling the fake smile I've gotten so good at.

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

***

I get home around four o'clock with no homework to be done and a B in Pre-Calculus, the class that I thought would hold me back from graduating. Thanks to Adam, I am not only passing math but all my other classes with almost-flying colors. I graduate in a month and a half. Bring it.

"Philena? Are you home?"

That sounds like Mother... only it sounds like her before Stepmonster, when she was Mom. They did run out of their stash a week or so ago, perhaps...?

Either way, I should probably go see what she wants. Don't want to keep Mother waiting--it doesn't end too well.

"Yes, Mother, I'm home!"

I walk into the kitchen to see her hand wrapped around a bottle of Merlot. Only she's not drinking it, she's just staring at it. Glaring, really, like it is her worst enemy. Her hair isn't a bedraggled mess, but it's not at its nicest and she's wearing... the dress she wore to Dad's funeral.

"You know you can call me 'mom', don't you sweetheart?" Her voice is soft; gentle like she is speaking to a child. I blink and she's still there smiling. I close my eyes, because I swear I've got to be dreaming, but when I open them she is still there, her eyes full of concern.

"I don't remember any of... however long it's been. How old are you now, dear?"

I bite my lip and bite back the harsh words and unhelpful reply. Instead, I give her a simple answer--the correct answer.

"I'll be eighteen in two weeks. I graduate a month after that." I see her shudder, but I don't feel sorry for her. If she had listened to me, none of this ever would have happened. I never would have had to grow up as fast as I did, and maybe Garrett would still be here. Well, maybe not here, but closer to home. Maybe I could have worn actual clothes. Maybe... but she didn't listen to me and it has happened. Doesn't do any good to think about the 'what if's and the 'maybe's.

She meets my eyes and hers are filled with tears. Mine are hard as steel.

"How long have I been like this, baby girl? How long have you called me 'Mother'? How long has he--?"

My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I don't let her see it. Being around Stepmonster has taught me not to.

"Almost a decade, Mother. My birthday will never be something to celebrate ever again. Neither will July 4th... not for you, anyway. You lost your husband's would-be heir at midnight almost a decade ago."

I hear him before Mother sees him and move closer to her, farther from him. Stepmonster steps into view and watches Mother like a curious, but cruel, puppy. His grin takes in my figure and I put on my mask. He won't get anything out of me.

" 'Lena here's right, dear, you lost my heir with your greediness. All you wanted was my stash. All you wanted before that was the bottle. Tell me, dear, did you ever actually love me or just the escape I gave you?" As he contemplates, he takes steps closer and closer to us, "I wonder... did you know you were pregnant before I gave you a longer escape--a stronger high? Did you want that baby to die, hm dear?"

I back up to the corner--near to the table and Mother, but not to Stepmonster. He steps closer, gets a sick smile on his face and grabs for Mother. She skitters away, but only barely and grabs a knife. He chuckles.

"Do you really think you can hurt me? Kill me? You're weaker than this whore over here in the corner. You were a slave to the bottle and then a slave to me. Pitiful." He grins at me then and I go totally still. This is a Stepmonster even I have never seen before and don't ever want to see again.

Mother's face goes bright red. Whether in anger or shame, I don't know. Perhaps a mixture of both. She wields the knife like it's going to poison her if she holds it too tight. She has no chance if I don't try something, so I grab up our butcher's knife and charge Stepmonster. He whips around in time to take a nice deep chop to his shoulder.

Stepmonster shouts obscenities at the ceiling while I try to get the darned knife out of his shoulder, and when I can't I let go of it and back up close to the door in case we have to run for it. His eyes are wild as he looks around the room for something. I see the lightbulb go on right as I come to the same conclusion.

His gun is in a kitchen drawer. My eyes widen in horror as he takes it out of the closest drawer to the oven... and points it at Mother. She looks at me and mouths run and I listen. I run out of the kitchen and out the front door, then around the house to the corner before the kitchen. Breathing hard. I haven't heard a gunshot yet. What's going on?

I peek around the corner and her on the ground, blood pooling both from her head and her stomach. His plan was never to actually shoot the gun, just to hit her hard enough she was unable to stand up... and then kill her. Stepmonster is standing there with a triumphant grin on his face and a bloody knife in his hand.

"Oh... my... God..." I crouch in the grass and let out a long breath. Tears prick my eyes and this time I let them fall. There is no one around to see me cry, so there's no reason to hide.

"My mom is dead. She's dead. Totally, completely, bleeding-out-on-the-floor dead." And he killed her... he murdered her. Oh my God, I'm going to die. I'm alone with Stepmonster now.

"I am so dead."

A rustling of leaves reveals Stepmonster's boots, and when I look up, he is smiling at me like he's a lion and I am the zebra he's having for lunch.

"Not yet, my whore, not yet."