Elijah P.O.V

"Hey carrot, alone again?" Mikael, my brother, and tormentor ask me. His twin is just a little behind him and looks just as satisfied as his brother, with his arms crossed and his chin up. Jaydon looks down at me with blue eyes full of mockery. The brown-haired boy is not one to act, he prefers to watch his brother do all the talk and normally don't interfere. Sometimes, he will throw an insult or two, but Mikael is the one that does the beating. With his black hair and red eyes, he really looks like a devil, even more so with how he acts like a gangster. Of course, when he is in our parents' presence, he acts like a good little boy along with his twin and defends the weak, but behind their backs they bully me. Such hypocrites...

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Mikael says and takes the front of my t-shirt in his fist, raising me from the bench I was sitting on. The book I was reading fall on the ground with a small 'thud' and I cringe at the thought of dust on its dark hardcover. Looking at the red eyes enlightened by fury that are right in my face, I slowly blink and keep my emotionless facade. I learnt early that if you don't react to the bully's provocations, they will eventually get tired. It has been eight years since they started to bully me and I'm now twenty years old and they are fourteen. Honestly, I looked more like fifteen and them like seventeen. I was on the lanky side with little to no muscles and I looked extremely fragile with white skin and a skinny body. I was tall, but I looked more like a weak twig while the twins looked like pillars. They are six years younger than me, but my head is only at their shoulders. Their bodies are tanned and sport huge muscles, proofs of the intense training they were doing daily.

"Freak!" Mikael says before punching me in the stomach, making me stop breathing for a few seconds. I gasp and fell to my knees as he let go of my t-shirt before he punches me again on the nose this time. I guess my answer, or more like the lack of it, anger him. I'm always in my head, trying to escape from the real world, and the twins can't understand why, so they treat me like a freak. I don't think escaping the pain is abnormal though…

I watch while remaining on the sandy floor as both Alphas walk away, leaving me on my now throbbing knees and stomach with a bloody nose. I will have to make up an excuse for it, I can't let my parents worry about me. They are not aware of the way their real sons treat their fake one, they think we are good brothers that love each other. It couldn't be farther than this.

I slowly rise my hand to my nose and gently cup it, trying to stop my blood from tainting the ground. By doing this, I can now see the faint scars on my wrist which are normally hidden by leather bracelets. The wristbands are actually on the windowsill in my bedroom, slowly drying after I washed them. I forgot to take them off while I was painting, and a few droplets stained them. I couldn't continue wearing them knowing they were dirty. As if I wasn't…

I get up and take my book off the ground with my free hand, which gets a little dirt between my nails. I will have to wash them, again. I had finally gotten the blood under them off though… What a bad day.

I walk to the house and pass by the kitchen on the way to my restroom. Hearing the voice of my adoptive mother, I stop just beside the entry and listen. They are once again talking about getting me to see a psychologist. I can't really blame them after what happened the day before yesterday. My shoulders still sting a little from the cut my nails made, but it has stopped bleeding. The flashbacks had gotten too clear and I couldn't stop 'his' voice from fucking with my brain. I had to stay in the reality. So, I did the only thing I could think of and harmed myself. Normally, I escape to my room when I can sense an attack coming as to hide it, but this time we were eating, and they wouldn't accept any excuses I gave them. My parents and brothers don't know, well more like didn't know now, that I have regular attacks. It happened while they were there a few times before, but they put it on my real parents' death, and they thought that I was doing fine until the last one. As if I will ever be alright…

I told them I don't need to see a psychologist anymore, that it was just the stress of school that became too much with all the homeworks and projects, but after seeing me hugging myself and gripping my shoulders until they bled while quickly rocking back and forth, they started to have doubts. I can't tell them the real reason though, I can't tell anyone about it, or 'he' will come back and do it again. I don't want this, I can't have it happen again. It will-

No. Don't think about it. 'He' is not here and won't ever be if you don't tell anyone.

I hear the chair scratch against the floor and take it as my cue to leave. I walk up the stairs and quickly close the door to my bedroom behind me, while making sure to not make a sound. I don't want Samuel or Alexander to know that I'm here. They will come and ask me about it. I will have to lie, again. I can't even count how many lies I have told them until now, there are just too many and I don't want to add another one to the countdown. The countdown to the moment I will explode. I know it is just a matter of time until I can't take it anymore.

I will take every precious second until this fateful day comes.