-16 years ago-
Cullen's PoV:
I watched as my mother bandaged my twin's knee.
"Cullen!"I heard my father scream. As soon as he walked in, the smell of liquor permeated the room. He grabbed me up by my wrist, hoisting me off of the ground.
"You little bastard. How dare you!"His grip tightened on my wrist so much so that my hand began turning purple.
"Put him down Matthew!"My mother, Melanie said frantically.
He drug me up the stairs into his room, throwing me on the California King bed. He ripped off his belt with vigor, and began to beat me.
"I'm gonna teach you a lesson son and you are gonna learn."He growled, lashing me harder with each word. Hot tears streamed down my eyes.
"Stop crying. Be a man!"He yelled, whipping me with more ferocity.
My mother rushed in, flinging herself onto my father, my twin crept to the doorway, staring at the saddening scene that played out.
"Matthew he is only 6!"She screeched, gaming onto him.
"Melanie, get off of me."He growled lowly, lashing me again.
"He is our son! Stop it!"She winced as though she had been struck.
"I-it's ok Mama."I said through sniffles.
My father looked at me with narrow and venomous eyes, then he beat me even harder.
"Be a man!"He screamed, he would never hurt my mother so he just let her hang on him.
"Cullen. It's gonna be ok baby."She said gently.
I pretended to let her words comfort me. But I knew things would not be ok. He beat me like that often. He said because I was the older twin, I would take up the family business and needed to be a man. I just wanted to please my father back then, but really all these years I had covered my deep hatred for him with that excuse of wanting to please him.
"Stop fucking crying!"he screamed.
I bit my lip and put on my best and most convincing poker face, then sat up on the bed stone faced, just staring at him with a blank and empty expression. He had beaten the life out of me. He had beaten my smile out of me. He had stole my childhood, beaten it out of me. I was no longer a kid. I hadn't been for a long time leading up to that, but the last ounce of child-like wonder I had was extinguished.
My father beamed at me with a smile from ear to ear. It disgusted me even then at such a tender young age that he was finally proud of me. He didn't care that I had made top grades or that I had already learned 3 languages, not including English, but that I stopped letting my emotions show. He was finally proud of me. My mother immediately wrapped her arms around me, picking me up, she glared at my father as she walked out of the room.
"I'm ashamed of you."she said bitterly, grabbing Kollin's hand, taking us away from him.
Quickly he turned into a good father, proud of my every move. Proud of my being at the top of my class, proud of my learning a fourth and fifth language, and proud that I now had a poker face and knew how to hide my emotions, like a "real man." That day stuck with me forever and it now guided my every move.