A Stepbrother's Silent Damage

Gabe （18 Years Old）

This is what I wanted. From the moment I was old enough to know what was happening, I wanted him dead. But seeing his lifeless body on the floor, blood pooling at his side—

I don’t know anymore.

I look down at my hands to find that they’re clean.

That doesn’t make sense.

Mom is crying on the opposite side of the trailer. She’s on the phone with someone—probably Doug. That’s who they were arguing about.

Mom loves Doug.

Dad hated Doug.

Dad’s dead.

“I can say it was self-defense,” I hear her explain through gasping tears. “I had no other choice. He would have killed me. It’s self-defense.”

My stomach twists. Self-defense?

The trailer feels cold even though it’s August.

I’m shivering.

The lights above are too harsh, and they shine on Dad.

My eyes land on his face.

I haven’t looked at his face since he hit the ground.

There’s so much blood.

All I can see is red. Pools of it stain our dirty trailer that reeks of Coors Light and cigarettes.

There’s a frantic knocking on the door, and Mom opens it to let Doug inside.

He jets into the trailer but freezes when he sees Dad's lifeless body. “Fuck me,” he hisses.

Doug looks at Mom, about to say something, but gasps when he sees her bloody nose and black eye. “He did this?” he asks.

Mom nods, her gaze locked on the floor where my dad lies. Then she looks up, and our eyes meet.

And something breaks in me. Seeing her face like that—the sad look in her eyes.

I don’t even feel it happen.

I’m crying.

Loud.

Ugly.

I can’t stop.

She rushes across the trailer to cradle me in her arms.

“Baby, it’s gonna be okay.”

I bury my face into her shirt and let the tears flow. It comes on hard and fast, and soon, I'm screaming into her chest.

The knife flashes behind my eyes. His face when it went in. The sound he made—

“Listen to me, baby.” Mom’s words pull me out of my mental spiral. “When the Police come, you tell them that Daddy was hitting me, and I stabbed—”

I bolt to the front door, ready to sprint into the night and escape, but Doug catches me. “Gabe—“ his grip tightens. “You need to listen to her.”

“NO!” My hands cover my ears. I can’t listen to this. I won’t listen to this.

Mom rushes across the trailer, closing the distance between us, and clutches my face in her hands. “Listen to me, Gabriel. You need to do this. For me. This is my fault. I stayed. I tried to fix him.” Her voice cracks as she utters that last part. “I should have left sooner.”

I close my eyes and shake my head.

Mom snaps her fingers, making me pay attention. “You listen to your mother,” she warns in a stern voice. “You hear?”

I just stare at her, blinking away the tears.

“Can you do that?” she asks with an edge in her voice.

Nothing.

I can’t speak.

Blue and red lights flash outside, filling the trailer with a haunting purple hue. A car door slams, and a heavy pounding shakes me to my core.

“Police! Open up.”

Mom grabs my chin. “You will tell them I did it to defend myself, Gabriel. You understand?”

Another round of pounding on the door.

I clench my eyes shut and tear my face away, shaking my head as I try to find the words to protest, but nothing comes.

“Police!”

“Will you tell them?” Mom asks Doug in a whisper. “Tell them we were on the phone when it happened, then I called you back. Okay?”

Doug doesn’t say anything for a moment, then responds, “Linda, I don’t think I—”

“You will!” She motions to me. “If he can’t, then you will.”

Her tone leaves no room for argument. Doug releases a defeated sigh and replies, “I’ll do it.”

She nods and opens the door, letting the police barrel into the trailer.

Mom launches into her story, and Doug backs it all up.

I can’t say it.

I won’t say it.

This shouldn’t be happening to her. She shouldn’t be the one in trouble.

Because I did it.

I killed him—plunged the knife into his gut when he put his hands on her like that.

This is my fault.

I’d rather say nothing than blame it on her.