Resisting My Hot Stepbrother

Allison

I opened my eyes to the sound of muffled moans and slurping noises coming from the other side of the thin hospital wall.

"Yes, baby, yes..." a woman's voice cooed.

"You like this?" A man's voice responded, followed by more moaning and groaning.

"Yes, please, more!" she begged shakily.

I rubbed my aching head, annoyed. "Fuck!" I snarled, throwing off the covers. "Who the hell has sex in a hospital room?"

I got out of bed and slammed my fist against the wall. "Can't you see patients are trying to sleep here?"

The noise stopped, and I let out a sigh of relief. "Thank God," I muttered, rolling my eyes and lying back down.

Just as I was about to go back to sleep, the door creaked open. I quickly opened my eyes and saw my mom walking in, a warm smile on her face.

"Are you awake, sweetie?" she asked, taking out a food flask from her bag. "I brought you some soup. You must be hungry."

I sat up, brushing the hair out of my face. "Mom?" I called, and she turned to me still wearing that smile.

"When can I leave here?" I asked, letting out a tired sigh. "I swear that I'm fine now."

My mom's expression turned stern as she offered me the flask and a spoon. "You can't leave until you've completed your treatment, Allison, and don't worry, it's in a few days, okay?"

I let out another deep sigh and started eating slowly. "How about changing hospitals?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes narrowing. "Did something happen?"

I shook my head, avoiding eye contact. "Nah, never mind."

As I ate, my gaze drifted to the cuts on my wrists. The mirror beside me also reflected the red marks on my neck. The hazy memories of my past self-harm resurfaced, but... that wasn't what landed me in the hospital.

It was the day I had run outside, hoping to get hit by a car. And that was exactly what happened. The car struck me, sending me tumbling to the ground. The last thing I heard was my mom's loud scream before I lost consciousness. I was rushed to the hospital, where I spent weeks trying to recuperate.

It was after a few weeks that I woke up. The problem was, I couldn't remember some things – why I self-harmed or why I wanted to kill myself by throwing my body into some moving vehicle.

My mom has told them that wasn't my first attempt, either. I had a history of self-harm and suicide attempts, but my memories of those events were hazy.

I still remembered when I first woke up after the surgery I had, my mom and stepdad were overjoyed. They were over the moon that I had made it through. However, my elder sister, Sally had only visited me once, and that was the next day. I never saw her again.

Probably, that was why I hated her and never responded to any of her stupid messages asking me to like her photos on Instagram. It was only my parents that always visited, always checking up on me.

"Allison?" my mom whispered, her teary eyes locked on mine.

"Yes?" I replied.

"How about going for therapy after you get discharged?" My mom asked, her voice laced with concern.

I grunted. "Why? I don't need therapy."

My mom's voice cracked. "What if you try to... to do those things you did to yourself last time?"

I sighed, rubbing the side of my face. "I promise, I won't! Besides, I've forgotten what led to that, so everything will be fine now."