Chapter 1: Genesis

“Honestly, y’know, I don’t feel safe in the classroom with her. She just gives me the creeps,” Emmie whispered, two rows in front—just loud enough that Lilith could overhear, but Mr. Richards couldn’t.

“ ... What?” giggled Julia, next to Emmie. “Are you saying you’re scared of the retard?”

“Well, look at her!” Emmie hissed. “I’m just convinced she’s gonna shoot up the school or something! She looks so dead inside!” She swept her blonde hair over her shoulder.

“I can see it,” Julia relented. “Less retard and more psycho these days, maybe?”

Emmie giggled. “Definitely both. But I mean, they should probably check her locker or whatever.”

Lilith tried her best to hide from her bullies, in particular these two, but in class there was no avoiding them, and because she trained herself not to react, the teachers never really figured it out.

Emmie had been making her life hell since the first year of middle school, and then they went to the same high school, the same homeroom, even—and from there she’d recruited this Julia character, who didn’t even have history with Lilith before she went all-in on the bullying. And they call me the weirdo, she thought.

“Right. I bet she cuts herself too,” a third girl added; rather overkill in Lilith’s opinion. If life was fair, they would’ve made fun of third-girl because she didn’t quite match Emmie’s specific flavor of snark, but of course they didn’t give a crap about sloppy work; they were just glad for the contribution.

Lilith didn’t even know third-girl’s name, ‘cause she was a new kid who only transferred in two weeks ago. Heartwarming to see that she was making friends already and bonding over shared interests like making fun of the weird girl.

For the most part, Lilith just ignored them, ignored everything, and tried to stay out of everyone’s way. She didn’t even need any friends. Emmie had poisoned the well early on, so Lilith rarely even had anyone sitting next to her most classes, and her brother Sam didn’t want his little sister hanging out with him or his friends during lunch, either, so yeah.

When the bell finally rang, Lilith shuffled out of the classroom, and Emmie & Co. didn’t follow her; the bitches also valued their lunch hour, most of the time, at least when it came off the back of a whole hour of bullying like today.

When she arrived at the picnic tables outside the cafeteria, her brother Samuel was already there, smoking a cigarette. So were two of his friends. Or rather, his two friends. Lilith didn’t think Sam had any other friends—but she herself had none, so ... who was she to judge.

“Hey, freak,” he went. He didn’t spare her a glance.

“Hi.” Lilith closed her eyes. She should just ask, but it was a bit overwhelming talking to him in front of his buddies. She really didn’t like it when his attention was on her, let alone in front of an audience.

Anxiety bubbled up like a roiling beast getting her near-catatonic. But she had to ask. “Umm, so um—”

“Cool style, Lilith,” interrupted Faye, the white girl with dreadlocks who Lilith was sure had introduced her brother to all that weed and booze stuff (and probably banged him casually as friends, for all she knew). “I like your Doc Martens.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Me too. That’s why I got ‘em.” Lilith’s eyes were locked on those very boots right now, in fact. Small talk washed over her, much like bullying did.

It was already difficult enough to talk to Samuel alone; she wished his friends would just ignore her, not acknowledge her at all. She didn’t want to be acknowledged. She wanted to be left alone.

“What do you want, Lilly?” her brother drawled, inadvertently saving her from her thought-spiral.

She looked up at him with a scowl. “C’mon, Sam. I go Mondays without lunch so you can buy your stupid fuckin’ cigarettes ... You have to give me lunch money the rest of the week. You promised.”

“Maybe if you ask super nicely.”

Lilith sighed. Her brother loved these little power plays. But he was only part of the problem; Lilith couldn’t understand why their stepmom Annette handed him lunch money for the both of them, assuming he’d be responsible about it. He’s an asshole. Of course he wouldn’t be responsible about anything.

“Pleeaase, Sammy?” she went, defeated. “C’mon...”

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment at how pathetic she sounded, but that was usually enough for him.

Not today. By the look in Samuel’s eyes, he was going to ask something else ... some errand, or homework he needed done. But then his friend Faye nudged him and shook her head sharply, sending Lilith a glance of pity.

Lilith scoffed. She didn’t need pity from this girl. But it did cause Sam to take out his wallet and shove ten bucks into her hand and shoo her away. Mission accomplished, I guess.

She didn’t thank him, nor his stupid friend. Her mind was already on those triangular pre-made sandwiches from the vending machine that she liked so much.

As you might expect, going home at the end of the day with a brother like that did not bring Lilith reprieve from bullying, not as such.

And, unlike with her schoolyard bullies, there was no hiding from Sam; he always knew whether or not she was home, since he was the one driving. At home, Lilith was an easy target, since she was alone in her room most of the time.

And her room didn’t have a lock. Even if it did, he would end up with the key somehow, turn it against me. Locking me in, or some shit.

It didn’t matter. If Lilith had learned one thing about bullying over the years, it was that sometimes it’s better to get the day’s mandatory bullying out of the way as soon as possible so they could all get on with it.

So, sprawled on her bed in the afternoon reading A Game of Thrones for the fifth time, she gritted her teeth at her brother’s voice echoing through the hallway, closer than she wanted. “ ... Lilly! Lilly, where you hidin’ out, you little creep?”

“I told you not to call me that!” she yelled back, her face contorting into a frown. Lilly, always with the Lilly. She hated that nickname.

He arrived, and just leaned against her doorway, with a stupid, expectant grin on his face.

“Yeah, okay, so what is it?” she demanded.

“Huh? Can’t I just wanna spend time with my favorite sister?”

Yeah, right. She rolled her eyes, and went back to reading.

He ambled closer. “Hmm? What’re you up to?”

“Fuck off, Sam.” She looked up, but only to shoot him a venomous look. “Leave me alone. I wanna be alone.” I always do, and you never let me.

“See, this is why you have no friends, Lilly,” he said cheerfully. “You’re always such a toxic little bitch.” He came even closer, casually, grin still plastered on.

It made her hair stand on end, Pavlov-style, fight or flight. To Lilith’s brain, a grinning Sam was one of the most menacing sights. She backed away instinctually, further towards the wall, though really there was no escape.

“What—Sam! Get away, retard!” She threw the nearest thing at him—her backpack. Too late, she realized her laptop was in it, but that just made it all the more effective as a weapon.

The bag hit Samuel in the knee, eliciting a deeply satisfying oomph and a groan of pain as he stumbled. Yeah!

But then he stood straight again, towering over her, with nothing but extra malice and motivation as a result of the hit she’d landed. Right...

Lilith’s eyes barely had time to widen before he pounced on her. He held her wrists down with his hands, and her legs with his full weight. And just smirked.

She struggled, to no avail. “Get off, fuck off!”

But the wind wasn’t in her sails, with Sam’s infuriating grin inches away from her face. That ‘I’m in charge here, and you’re not’, grin.

“What’s got your panties in such a twist today, huh?” he went. “Your boyfriend dump you?”

She scowled. “I’ve never had a boyfriend.” Like anyone’s interested in me. Sam reminded her often enough that she barely had tits.

“And why is that? Oh, right, because you don’t have any friends.” His voice was gleeful.

Ugh. I walked into that one. “I do have friends,” she protested halfheartedly, while wiggling around some more in another feeble escape attempt. He had her pinned, though, so it was pointless. Fuck herself for being so much smaller.

“Riiight,” drawled Samuel, “name one friend.” When she opened her mouth, he quickly added, “—who isn’t from the internet.”

She closed her mouth again, glaring at the wall.

“Exactly.” His smirk widened; she wanted to strangle him. “Soo ... no friends, no boyfriends, does that mean you’ve never been kissed either?”

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “How ‘bout that’s none of your fuckin’ business?”

“Oof ... that’s sad, Lilly,” he teased. “Most girls have at least one or two under their belt by the time they’re 15. No wonder you’re always so grouchy. You just need to get laid. Though, I suppose that’s kinda difficult, with no friends?” He made it sound like some kinda neutral interview question.

She glared at him, her face on fire, and she soon had to look away from his stupid grin. Why did he have to be such an ass all the time? The same jokes verbatim every day. Can’t he give it a rest?

“Well, my dear Silly,” he continued unabated, “step one is to learn to smile.” He used his fingers to push up the corners of her mouth. “Like this. It’s what people do when they’re happy ... Hmm, it’s not working.”

“Maybe I’d have a reason to smile if you left me the fuck alone.” She jerked her head away from his hand. “Stop it—ngh, fuckoff.”

By now she’d actually half-managed to wriggle out of his grip, but her shirt had ridden up. And he honed in on the exposed skin like a shark out for blood. Suddenly his fingertips were on her waist, tickling her. “F-Fuck! Stahahahap!” she squealed, flailing her legs, struggling to escape.

“Not until you admit, out loud, that you’re a loser with no friends,” he went, and she could feel his breath on her ear, giving her goosebumps. It was only a short reprieve before he went back to tickling.

“ ... Fahahack—fine—I’m a loser with no friends! I’m a loser with no friends! Uhaha! Just stop!”

To his credit, he did stop. She schooled her features back into a glare. He still didn’t let her go, however, once again gripping both of her wrists and languidly pinning them above her head.

Lilith let out a sigh.

Somewhere around two years ago, Samuel had discovered that he’d grown strong enough—at least relative to her—that he could fully hold her down like this, for as long as he wanted, whenever he felt like it. He made greedy use of that fact. Just loved to show her how powerless she was.

She struggled, of course, just as she was struggling today, but it was just a game to him, and one heavily weighted in his favor. Can’t win against the house.

So she met his gaze, and they were locked in a staring contest; him grinning, her scowling, neither giving an inch. His grip on her wrists tightened a fraction, and she narrowed her eyes. He was pushing it. Well, alright then.

Based on experience, she had exactly one weapon against him: out-of-pocket shock comments. “Well, what’s the endgame here? Gonna rape me?”

As expected, he then let her go all of a sudden, so sudden, backing away. “Jesus. Don’t even say shit like that.”

“Yeah, you’re the one who’s always on top of me, asshole.”

“Anyways, I wouldn’t fuck a girl with no tits,” he added helpfully. That fucking grin.

“Screw you.” She kicked her heel in his direction, but he was already halfway out the room. “Whatever. Just kill yourself!”

“See. It’s like I said. Toxic bitch.”

Lilith put the book down and faceplanted her pillow. God, what a jerk. Always with that shit. She curled up in her sheets, put in earbuds, and spent the next hour feeling bad about her sucky existence.

Dinner came. In their household, that meant their stepmom Annette cooked dinner for five, Dad didn’t show, and Annette exclusively initiated conversation with her own daughter, their half-sister Allie, because she’d rather pretend that Lilith and Sam didn’t exist.

And on paper, Lilith was totally fine with that. She didn’t want attention anyway. Unfortunately, this policy of Annette’s also enabled all of Sam’s rotten bullshit as long as he directed it at Lilith and not her precious little Allie. As such, he spent all of dinner mocking her in a low voice.

“So, Lilly, what’s the plan tonight? Holed up like a saddo in your room, naturally, but...? Like, aside from that?” She didn’t answer. Then he leaned closer. “Oh, I get it. You won’t tell me ‘cause it’s private time with your hand between your legs?”

“Shaddup,” she murmured.

He didn’t shut up. “So who’s the unlucky bastard featuring in your silly fantasies, huh? Or are you a dyke?”

“Samuel!” Annette chastised, finally having heard something.

“Sorry,” he said with a smile, not sorry at all. His gaze didn’t even leave Lilith, and he continued to whisper. “So, got any internet e-boyfriends to flash your nonexistent tits to, then?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Lilith hissed, glaring at her food, not meeting his gaze. “Why d’you keep bringing up my fuckin’—”

A hand hit the table. “Can you two please give it a rest?” Annette complained, having heard Lilith’s f-word that time. Yeah, with her it was always ‘you two’. Lilith truly never felt more powerless than when her step-mom ‘intervened’ in their ‘bickering’.

“Err, yeah, sorry, I’m sorry,” she mumbled, and she focused on scarfing down the rest of her food.

The conversation moved on to Allie, who was 14 and had lots of friends, and had gotten an A+ on some project, and was generally an utterly angelic presence that could do no wrong. She was so adorable that Samuel didn’t even bully her at all; in fact, he treated her like a princess.

“That’s great, Al!” he was saying. Case in point.

After all that, Lilith was relieved to retreat to her own room at the first opportunity. She made sure to put away the plates so Annette had absolutely no reason to complain, and fled while Sam was still in conversation, a guaranteed reprieve.

Unfortunately, when she finished her homework and wanted to cap off the evening with a nice calming bath, Samuel caught her by the arm in the hallway, yanking her back. “Nah, nah, I’m showering first. You fuck off back to your autistic little gooncave.”

The standoff only lasted a few moments. Lilith’s patience had worn thin, and she knew she’d lose any fair fight, so, tired and annoyed as she was, she kneed him in the nutsack. She regretted it immediately.

When he collapsed with a groan, she speedwalked the rest of the way to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

Lilith took a deep breath to calm herself. I’ve won this round, she told herself, maybe he’ll let me have it. She let the bathtub fill up and scowled in the mirror.

Her hair was a mess, as always, black and wavy but no shine and clearly tangled. Hairstyle just-letting-it-grow; she was not a hair girl and she’d never had a mom teach her, either. It was hard to even brush.

She still liked it better than any other part of her. She was not nearly as curvaceous as the other girls in her year. Compared to real boobs, hers were basically nonexistent. Allie, for instance, two years younger, already lugged around boobs many cups bigger than Lilith’s miserable little sports bras.

She tossed her T-shirt over the closed toilet seat and inspected her torso in the mirror. Well, viewed from the side, they did have a bit of profile, but it was more triangular than round, like Allie’s...

Lilith was just small and skinny. Tight and bony—it was more unfortunate genes than a lack of any development at all. She’d seen photos of her mom ... let’s just say things weren’t looking up for Lilith in the further boob growth department.

Halfway through peeling off her tights, Lilith heard a scratching on the door. Frowning, she glanced over, and sighed when she watched the lock seemingly unlock itself from the outside.

Ugh, there we go. Maybe the oldest trick in Samuel’s playbook. Dad and Annette had often told him not to ever do that to his sisters again, etc., but all that meant was that he saved it for special occasions.

She covered her bare chest with her arm as the door swung open to reveal him, notably not grinning this time.

“Creeping on me now?” Lilith spat.

“You don’t have anything worth lookin’ at.”

That stung. “Wouldn’t that just make it more creepy? Like, pedophilic or whatever?”

He ignored her and crossed his arms, pointedly looking anywhere but at her chest now. “Gimme the bathroom or I’m kicking your ass, Lilly.”

She clenched her fists and looked away, frustrated, embarrassed, annoyed, tired, all at once. And maybe it was just a little much for her, because then Lilith did something that surprised even herself, in a kind of manic impulse: she dropped her arm, baring her little tits, just to see if she could get a reaction out of him.

Turns out, she could; she heard his breath catch.

Yeah, Samuel might think he was some kind of evil super-bully, but he was also a boy, and now he just looked away with flushed cheeks. No snide comments about her body followed. She almost had to do a double take. Could it really be that easy?

No doubt her own face was equally red, but whatever—in that moment, Lilith felt a heady, horny feeling of power and control she had never felt before in her fifteen and a half years of life.

“What’s the matter? I thought I didn’t have anything worth lookin’ at?” She was smiling, puffing her chest out. It felt weird. She didn’t do either of those things very often. “ ... You’re quiet all of a sudden, Sammy. Aren’t you the one who keeps bringing up my titties?”

She brought her hands up to cup them. That was too much for him, apparently. “Fuck off,” he snapped, and after one final glare at her chest—as if it was the titties’ fault—he turned and slammed the bathroom door closed behind him.

She moved to lock it, in a daze. Man, just like that, huh? Somehow she didn’t feel embarrassed like she probably should. Sure, her face burned, but the feeling of victory was overpowering.

When she stretched like a cat to lay in the warm bubbly bath, Lilith had an epiphany of sorts. She apparently had a secret weapon against Sam in the form of her girly parts—modestly sized they might be. But that means ... oh, God.

Lilith had always thought she was too bony and her tits too tiny and pointy to be interesting to any boys, but ... Samuel was a boy. (A particularly decent-looking one, even, though she knew she wasn’t supposed to think that.) No way he would have blushed and fled like that if he really thought there was “nothing” on display just now.

Oh man, she thought, before she slid a hand under the warm water toward the even warmer place between her legs. No wonder I’m getting fuckin’ bullied, I’m really fucked in the head.

Several orgasms later, Lilith was left mainly mortified. She didn’t masturbate to her brother very often, it was a guilty pleasure, but she had to acknowledge that she never come quite so hard. The result of vividly imagining herself with Samuel.

Of course, that fantasy was always followed by a good dose of post-nut clarity and self-loathing. It was like an ice bath, despite the reality of a lukewarm bath.

She knew that this was a kind of messed up that she would never live down if anyone ever found out about it. Intrusively, she imagined Emmie and the bitches knowing she masturbated to her own brother. God, that would be so bad. She had to giggle, and that broke her spell of self-pity. Well, good thing mind-reading doesn’t exist.