Falling for My Childhood Sweetheart

The Scars She Hid From The World

REGINA MCBRIDE

The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab." My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle. When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine. They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber. I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone. At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on.

Modern Revenge Scheming

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Richard was only a year older than me, but he had always used his role as an older brother to control me. When I was younger, he'd scold me for skipping classes. As I grew older and started dating, he still interfered.

One time, my friend joked, "Maybe Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." Since then, I had tried to keep my distance. But during the holidays, he suddenly brought a girl home.

"Tricia, this is my girlfriend. Say 'Hi'." That night, I locked myself in my room and cried uncontrollably.

He pulled me out from under the covers and gently wiped away my tears. "You could find a boyfriend to annoy me, but I couldn't do the same to you?"

Lately, luck hadn't been on my side. Every time I found a boyfriend, Richard scared them off.

I complained to my friend, "My brother is stricter than my mom!"

Sandra handed me a bag of chips and thought for a moment.

"Could it be that Richard likes you? You guys aren't even related by blood." It was true. My dad and his dad had been old friends, and ever since my dad passed away, his family had been taking care of us.

My mother had always told me to treat Richard like a real brother.

Even though we weren't related by blood, he was more responsible than any real brother.

Back in school, he would watch me do my homework every day and even lecture me if I skipped class.

He was only a year older than me, but he had always acted like an adult.

Whenever I did something wrong, he'd scold me faster than my mom.

"Tricia, that's not polite. Don't do that." "Tricia, don't talk badly about people behind their backs."

The thought that he might like me sent chills down my spine. "Don't say that! You're going to give me nightmares!" After leaving Sandra's house, her words kept echoing in my head, as if they had put a spell on me.

That night, I dreamt that Richard cornered me at the stairwell, gripping my chin and kissing me forcefully. "Who said you could get a boyfriend?" I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified, and immediately blocked his number.

Thankfully, I was about to start my internship and wouldn't be home much longer.

When I opened the door the next morning, Richard just happened to be walking by.

Instinctively, I stepped back and slammed the door shut.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cold, piercing stare. It felt like a blade cutting right through me.

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