C1 Break Free

I stared at the food that my aunt had thrown at me, feeling like a wild animal she needed to feed. "You can eat or just leave," she snapped.

I didn't understand why she was always so harsh with me. I wasn't interfering in her life in any way.

Her bright, hateful brown eyes bore into me, and I swallowed hard. Crying wouldn't help; she'd only accuse me of seeking pity from Uncle George.

Auntie Alona was my mom's cousin, and Uncle George had been my dad's friend. They took me in after my parents died in an accident five months ago.

Everything felt wrong here, especially the way Auntie Alona treated me. I understood if she was struggling financially, but she didn't have to because my parents left money for me.

My mother and Auntie Alona weren't close, so I was surprised they'd agreed to take me in. When Uncle George was around, she treated me like her own child.

"I hope you'll leave when you turn eighteen. You'll have money then." Her harsh words stung, but I wanted to stay with them. Part of me longed for a complete family.

Maybe we could pretend I was their child, and Uncle George sometimes looked at me differently. But maybe I was just imagining things.

"I can stay," I said, and Auntie Alona's grip on my hand tightened, leaving bruises.

"You're so stupid, Jane," she hissed. I ate my food in silence, and she grew quiet when Uncle George came in.

He touched my arm, and Auntie Alona looked away. I didn't understand any of it. Uncle George had always been kind to me, asking about my well-being and offering money I declined because I had my own.

"Alona, aren't you leaving for your meeting at the subdivision women's program?" he asked. She got up and walked away without a word.

"You can eat your food, dear," he said, holding my hand and gesturing for me to eat. A shiver ran down my spine.

I didn't want to eat with him, but he always insisted, smiling all the while. I didn't know if I was overthinking it or if there was more to his touches and gazes. If I was lucky, he'd be too busy with work to eat with us.

I missed my parents, our meals together. I let go of Uncle George's hand and caught a flicker in his eyes. I wished Auntie Alona would come back and scold me instead of tolerating her husband's touch.

He could be overly touchy when his wife was not around. I would rather stay in my room than have dinner like this, feeling so violated. I gritted my teeth and tried to look passive as Uncle ate his food.

He could make it appear as if he was not doing anything wrong. I sat up straighter when I found the courage to speak. "I'm done eating," I said firmly.

He reached over me, and his branded cologne was suffocating. He touched my forehead, and I wanted to slap his hand. The unpleasant sensation from his touch spread throughout my body.

I disliked this feeling from his touch. It was no longer a fatherly touch, and I couldn't express my discomfort or move away to show that I was against it. His hand lingered far too long on my neck, and my stomach twisted as if I was about to vomit.

"Are you sick?" His breath was against my neck as he whispered those words. "Why do you have no appetite?"

His hand caressed my arm, and I bolted in my seat. I pushed him away, and disgust enveloped me. I widened my eyes, and he just looked at me, as if waiting for my accusation.

I clenched my fist, gripping it so hard. "What's the problem, Jane?" he asked quietly, as if he didn't know what the problem was.

I shook my head. "Nothing, Uncle. I just have a headache."

I could see on his face that he didn't like my response. I was also afraid of what he might do. He looked composed, but it seemed like he was running out of patience.

He could be nice, but I no longer trusted what I saw. His actions spoke volumes of his terrible character. He was making me anxious, and I wanted to cry so hard because my parents were not here to protect me.

I hugged myself as I stared at him. "You're so beautiful when you're scared. God, you're so beautiful, Jenna."

My lips twisted at the name he called me. That was my mother's name. He cleared his throat and took back what he said.

"You look like your mother, Jane." I caught the anger in his eyes earlier. I didn't understand why he was like this.

"Thank you, Uncle." I didn't know what else to say to him. He smiled and reached out towards me again, but I moved away from him.

"Do you still hate me now?" he asked. His tone was so low that I wasn't sure if he was still talking to me.

I turned my back and entered my room. My heart was pounding so hard. I knew that what he was doing was wrong, and I felt violated, so it was definitely wrong.

I swallowed the bile in my throat. My stomach still churned at the things he did and said. That was not something a sane uncle would say.

Auntie Alona entered my room, and I couldn't look at her directly. I saw her pitiful eyes as she looked at me. "You need to get the hell out of here, silly girl."

I nodded in agreement. For the first time, I saw her kindness and her hidden concern for me. "Pack your bags; I'll take care of George."

I did as I was told. It was time for me to leave.