Page 116 of Ecstasy
Someonethat wasn’t really there.
Maybe all that time we spent together meant nothing to her.
Fucking bitch.
I head up the stairs, turn down the hall toward the double doors that lead to my room. Dad and I have our own suites, as I liked to think of them when I was younger. Mom had one, too, the one she shared with Dad.
But that was eight years ago.
She hasn’t been back since she left, giving me a kiss on the forehead, squeezing my hands in hers.
I wrench open one of the doors to my room, flinging it back. It crashes against the wall, but I don’t fucking care. My bed is before me, and on either side of it are two dark, wooden nightstands.
One is empty.
The other has a framed photograph.
I head straight for it, yank it up and stare at it as I do every single time I come in here.
A boy’s face, with dark hair like mine but brighter eyes like my mother’s, looks back at me.
Adonis.
His first name is my middle name. Almost like Mom was trying to replace her family completely when she went back to Greece.
Adonis is my half-brother that I’ve never met. Living a life that I was meant to live.
He stole her from me.
He fucking stole her from me.
I hurl the frame against the glass door that leads out to my balcony, and it shatters into pieces that fall to the hardwood floor.
It’s not enough.
I run my hands through my hair, looking around this empty room. There’s nothing else to fucking break. I don’t really live here, I never did.
I went through the motions.
I took showers.
Did laundry.
Jerked off.
Fucked girls.
Ate in bed.
Stared at Adonis’s photos that Mom sent every year with a letter wishing me well.
I didn’t live, though.
I haven’t done that for a long time.
So, there’s nothing else to break.
There’s my dresser, but it’s empty. I took all my shit when I moved out.
