Bullied by my Stepbrother

The lake was my escape.

I gripped my camera, positioning it perfectly to capture the way the moonlight danced on the water, the way the trees swayed in the breeze, the way the world felt alive even when I didn’t.

The sound of a tree branch break hit my ears. I froze. It sounded sharp, like something heavy stepped on it. My eyes scan the area, looking for the source of the noise. Nothing. I dropped my eyes back to my camera, absorbing the view of nature till a figure passed. 

My heart stopped. I took in a sharp breath as my eyes widened trying to spot the figure. A shadow shifted at the edge of the trees, and my finger paused on the record button.

I took another sharp breath as the figure stepped into the moonlight. My breathing paused as I raked through the figure with my eyes. 

It was a guy. 

He was tall, his broad shoulders hunched as he dragged something heavy behind him. I looked into the camera, zooming in to get a better view. My stomach twisted. The image was grainy, but I could see it. I could see the way he struggled to pull the load shaped like a human behind him. 

I swallowed the lump I didn’t know grew in my throat. I could feel the pounding of my heart in my ears, as I stared widely at the figure. I should’ve looked away. I should’ve turned off the camera and run. But I couldn’t. I just kept filming. My finger frozen on the button, as he dropped the body and straightened up.

All the hairs in my body stood up as his head snapped in my direction. Even through the lens, I could feel the intensity of his gaze. His eyes were a piercing shade of green that seemed to glow in the moonlight. His eyes locked onto my mine that’s about popping out of its socket. The way he stared made my blood run cold. I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe. I just moved.

I scrambled to my feet, clutching the camera to my chest, and bolted. My sneakers slipped on the damp grass, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Behind me, I heard his quick, heavy footsteps gaining ground. My lungs burned, my legs ached, but I didn’t dare look back.

The trees blurred around me as I ran, branches snapping against my arms, the sound of my own breathing drowning out everything else. I didn’t know where I was going, all I could do was hope it was the way to my house. I just knew I had to get away.

When I finally burst into the clearing near my house, I risked a glance over my shoulder. He was gone. Or maybe he’d never been chasing me at all. I didn’t know. I turned the door knob with my shaky hands. I let out a deep sigh as I slammed the door behind me. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t shake the image of those green eyes staring straight through me.

I stumbled through the staircase, my chest heaving, and leaned against the wall for support. The house was dark, silent. Mom wasn’t home. I didn’t know why I even bothered checking anymore.

I didn’t turn on the lights. I didn’t want to. Instead, I climbed the stairs to my room and locked the door behind me with my leg still unsteady.

I sat on the edge of my bed. My fingers trembled as I rewound the footage. The screen glowed faintly in the dark, and I held my breath as the scene played back.

There he was. The boy. The shadow. The thing he’d been dragging. It was all there, just as I’d seen it. But now, in the safety of my room, it felt even more surreal. Who was he? What had I just witnessed?

I paused the video, zooming in on his face. His features were sharp, his jaw clenched, his green eyes burning with something I couldn’t quite place. Anger? Fear? Desperation? I didn’t know. But I couldn’t look away.

I should’ve deleted it. I should’ve erased every trace of what I’d seen and pretended it never happened. But something stopped me. Maybe it was the way he’d looked at me, like I was a threat. Or maybe it was the way my chest tightened every time I thought about it, like I was holding onto a secret too big to keep.

I didn’t know who he was. I didn’t know what he was doing. But I knew one thing, I shouldn’t have seen it.

And now that I had, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to forget it.