Scared Of You (fic for @blightlulbs project!)

(TW: familial abuse, slight sadism, suicide attempt implied, and incestuous relations implied. We don't support these actions. If you are ok with the mentioned topics, enjoy ^^) I wrote this all to tell you, I think I am scared of you… I wince as Cleaver's nails dig into my wrist as I’m unwillingly being dragged along to her office. I don't even remember what I did, I was only talking to TNT… Cleaver’s talking about it, but the way her nails stab my wrist makes it hard to focus on her words. Her grip somehow tightened. “God, you aren't even listening to me, are you? You really are pathetic.” She spat. I don't know why she's so mean, but it scares me. I whimper and close my eyes before she turns into her office, dragging me with her and throwing me onto the floor in front of a velvet, burgundy couch. I sit up and rub my arm. She looks down at me from her desk chair. “Get up, take a seat.” She ordered. I did so because I don't want to know what would happen if I didn't. “You know you aren't supposed to talk to TNT anymore.” I slowly nod, knowing she probably told me…But I forgot, like I always do. “Then why were you talking to her? Trying to escape again?” I shake my head profusely. I forgot what we were talking about already, but I know we weren't trying to escape again. I didn't want to make Cleaver mad again. I get scared when she's mad. “Switchblade. You know we have cameras everywhere. If you're lying, I will know.” Cleaver moved to look me in the eye. “Tell me the truth, and you'll be fine, if not…You saw what I do to people who don't listen.” I'm scared. “I am telling the truth. Why don't you like me anymore, cousin Cleaver?” Cleaver looks sad now. She looks away at a framed picture on her desk. “... what's in there..?” I slowly ask. She turned to look at me, making her eyes small and frowning. “You probably don't remember that, so it doesn't matter.” She says, turning the frame down so she can't see the picture, and I now also frown. “Is it sad?” Cleaver nods. “Awwh…” I sigh. “Stop making that face. Head up.” I do as she says. She just sighs and looks at her computer, typing stuff on it. I'm quiet before asking. “Cousin Cleaver..you didn't answer my question…” Her mouth moves weirdly; she looks sad but also confused. “I was never nice to you, Switchblade. It's only obvious now because I don't have to hide it.” I don't know how to feel about this. We're cousins, we should be nice to each other…but she doesn't wanna. “Why not?” I ask. I like being nice to Cleaver. I don't know why she doesn't want to be nice to me. “...Because I was told to.” “...What?” I say quietly. “I was told to like you too much. But I never wanted to. Listen, Switchblade, we are just two different people. Complete opposites. You are someone I'll never like.” I look down. “Oh…ok..” I try not to let the tears flood down my cheeks, but they do so anyway. “I'm sorry, cousin Cleaver. I'm sorry…” My shoulders shake as I begin to cry. “...You should be. I'm surprised Steakknife wanted to marry you, you're so emotional.” I freeze when Auntie Steakknife is mentioned. “No…Don't talk about her.” Cleaver laughs. “Why? Makes you want to try again?” She looks down at me with an evil smile on her face. “N-No…” Cleaver scoffs. “Yeah, right.” She likes looking at me hurt. It scares me. I want her to stop, but she never will. Not as long as I'm alive.