To Kill The One I Love

Skylar Xylon You’d think turning nineteen would come with cake or maybe a few balloons. Instead, mine came with boxes and duct tape. Again. “Birthday girl, help me load this into the car” my dad huffed, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead just as soon as he taped up the last box I helped him load the boxes into the car and just like that we were leaving yet another town for the umpteenth time. I stared out the window as trees blurred by, closing my eyes to take in the fresh air to calm the storm in me We had moved ten times in the last three years. Every time it was the same: new town, new school, same old rules. I wasn’t allowed to have friends. Or social media. But he loved me. I knew he did “Where to this time?” I asked eventually My dad sighed and took his eyes off the road for a minute to look at me. “Glen valley,” he answered. “It’s a beautiful place” When I didn’t say anything, he tugged at my arm with his elbow. “Come on, don’t be like that. I know this move sucks, especially today, but it’s—” “—for my safety,” I finished. “Yeah. Got it.” He looked like he wanted to say more. But he didn’t. He never did. “I got you something. Check in the glove compartment” he spoke again My brows rose with curiosity. I adjusted my seatbelt and reached for the latch, popping open the glove box. There was a tiny velvet pouch. My initials “S.X.”were embroidered on it I pulled it onto my lap and untied the string. Inside was a hat that said ‘birthday’ and a small, round compass. Antique-looking. The bronze edges were worn and smooth, the glass cover slightly scratched. It was beautiful—vintage, but strangely perfect. My fingers curled around it instinctively. “It was your grandfather’s,” Dad said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Passed it down to me when I turned eighteen. Said it kept him safe. I figured… maybe it’ll do the same for you.” The needle just… hung there. Not north. Not south. Just… still. I tapped the glass. Nothing Was it broken?? We were running out of gas fast. My dad pulled into a gas station and turned off the car. He picked up the hat in the box and adjusted the strap before putting it on my head and securing the strap under my chin. I smiled and rolled my eyes. “Dad, really? I’m not a child anymore.” I reached out to pull it off but he caught my hand, giving me a soft gaze “You’ll always be my child. Wear it for me. It’ll make me happy” he pleaded. “Fine” I gushed reluctantly “That’s my girl” he smiled broadly and placed a kiss on my forehead before stepping out. I stretched my legs, hoping to shake off the road stiffness, and wandered into the convenience store—still stuck with the ridiculous party hat Dad had insisted on “Cute hat” I turned. A red-haired girl stood by the fridge, sipping something bright blue out of a bottle. She had glitter around her eyes. “It’s your birthday?” I gave her an awkward smile and took the hat from my head. “Apparently. My dad made me wear it” She grinned. “I’m Rhea.” “Skylar” You new?” “Yeah, I just moved in” I said, my eyes dipping to her sweat shirt to read what was written on it. DERTLEY “You go to Dertley??” I asked, pointing at her shirt “Yeah, why?” “I’m starting tomorrow” I beamed, happy to keep a conversation with a complete stranger going for this long Her eyes lit up. “You’ve got any birthday plans later?” I would probably be too busy unpacking and helping my dad secure our new house because of his weird superstitions. “Not really” Her grin widened like she’d just won something. “Then you’re coming to my party tonight. Everyone’s coming” “I don’t really— “Please. Don’t make me beg. You’ll love it.” She scribbled an address and a number, probably hers on the back of a gum wrapper and shoved it into my hand. “See ya” she wiggled her fingers at me, exiting the store. My dad would absolutely murder me if I even attempted to go to this party or even entertained the thought but I still slipped it in my pocket I grabbed two cans of soda and paid on my way out “Where did you go off to??” “Here. I figured we could use a drink,” I said, offering a casual smile as I opened mine. He took it with a grateful nod, but his eyes scanned my face with that signature look of his—equal parts concern and calculation. “You okay?” he asked finally. “Yeah. Just thirsty,” I replied, hoping my smile was enough to shut down whatever suspicions he had brewing. He didn’t press it. Just sighed, nodded, and took a sip. “Next time, take your phone with you, okay? You just disappeared.” I rolled my eyes. “I was gone for like three minutes.” “Still,” he muttered, already turning the key in the ignition. By the time we got to the new house, the sun had started to dip behind the hills of Glen Valley. It was quiet. We unpacked in silence for a while. Boxes were strewn across the living room, some labeled “KITCHEN,” others with just my dad’s scrawled handwriting: “TOOLS,” “SUPPLIES,” “DON’T OPEN.” Classic Dad. Always some hidden stash, always something off-limits Dad, of course, jumped straight into his ritual—checking window locks, flipping light switches, testing the alarm system three times. He even pulled out his weird metal detector wand to scan the doorframe. Again. He did this with every house in every town we moved to “Still under your name?” I asked with a trace of sarcasm, as he triple-checked the deed papers. “Just making sure everything transferred right,” he replied, not looking up. God, he was exhausting. “Sky,” he said, turning to me, “remember the rules. No inviting anyone over. No random conversations with people you don’t know. No leaving the house without telling me first. And—” “Don’t open the door after dark,” I finished in a monotone voice, waving my hand like I was reciting a prayer. “Yeah, yeah. Same song, different town.” “I’m serious.” “I know,” I said. But I didn’t. Not really. Because he never told me why. An hour later, we were still halfway through unboxing when I wiped sweat from my brow and stood up straight. “Hey, um… there’s this girl I met at the gas station. Rhea. She invited me to a party tonight. I was thinking maybe—” “No,” he cut in, sharp and immediate. Not even a second’s pause. No consideration. “Dad—” “No. That’s final.” I stared at him, something inside me finally snapping. “I’m nineteen, not nine. You don’t get to just say ‘no’ and expect me to shut up and obey.” His eyes narrowed. “It’s not about control. It’s about safety.” “That word again!” I exploded. “Safety. Safety from what, Dad? From life? From people? From parties?” He said nothing. “You keep dragging us from town to town like we’re fugitives,” I continued, my voice rising, my chest heaving. “You never let me stay long enough to make friends. Or even try to fall in love. Or just—be normal for once. And the worst part? You never tell me why. You just expect me to follow your weird rules and never question anything.” He rubbed his temples, clearly trying to keep his temper in check. “Sky—” “No! I have a right to know! I have a right to live! I want to see the world, make mistakes, do stupid teenager things! I want to exist, Dad, not just survive!” There was a heavy silence between us. Then he stood up slowly, walked over to the fridge, and pulled out a small white box. “I bought you a cake,” he said softly. I stared at him. “Thought we could light a candle. Just you and me.” My lips curled into something bitter. “Let me guess. Garlic flavor?” His face fell. “Sky—” “I’m tired,” I said, my voice breaking. “I’m really, really tired” I turned and stormed upstairs, every step like a drumbeat of rage echoing inside me. My room was bare, cold, barely unpacked. I slammed the door shut and locked it. Threw myself onto the mattress still wrapped in plastic and let the tears burn behind my eyes. God, why was this my life? Thirty minutes passed. Then an hour. The house was quiet. No movement downstairs. Probably him giving me “space” like he always did when I blew up. I sat up. My hand slipped into my back pocket, fingers curling around the crumpled gum wrapper. Rhea’s party. The address and number scrawled in purple ink. I stared at it. Dad wanted me safe, but from what? There was nothing out there except life—and I was tired of being afraid of living. I pulled open the window, pushed the screen out slowly, and slipped on a dark hoodie. No way I was walking out the front door with that alarm code set. I grabbed my sneakers, my phone, and the wrapper, and climbed out into the night. It was time to prove he was wrong. I was done hiding