I really hate my family.

The story of my family has to start from when I was just a kid, like when I was two or three years old. My earliest memories were of my father beating the crap out of me for doing something I didn't even understand was wrong. Hell, I don't even remember what it was. Constant beatings, that's how I grew up. My father beat my mother, my brothers, my sisters... it seemed like violence was a way of life in that household.

Well, eventually the authorities got involved, and when I was ten years old I was removed from that household and given to my aunt and uncle's care. You'd think life would get better once I escaped the threat of constant violence. You'd be wrong. My aunt was just as abusive as my father, except she did it mentally instead of physically. She constantly put me down, she constantly belittled and questioned and gaslit me, until I doubted my own sanity. It's a wonder I managed to make it out of there with only the minor cornucopia of mental issues I have now.

Anyway, I left my aunt and uncle's household as soon as I turned eighteen. I got my own place, and supported myself with whatever jobs I could find. I never went to college. I suppose, in some way, that was a blessing in disguise, because four years later, when my peers were graduating with a buttload of student loan debt, I was relatively debt-free and had four more years of work experience on my resume. The jobs I could find were getting better, too. I knew better than to stay at one company for too long at a time. I knew that the days of staying at one place until you retire were long gone. I would work at a company for maybe three or four years at most before moving on. I specialized in IT, which was a pretty good field to be in. Every company needs IT people. Every company needs someone to keep their computers running and their servers connected and their website updated.

Eventually, when I was thirty, I got a job at a civil engineering and construction firm in Arizona. It was a pretty big company, with branch offices all over the country, and had tons of contracts from both the government and the private sector. I joined the IT department at their headquarters. It was a pretty good setup, with a good team of knowledgeable people who were willing to work hard and get things done. Moving out into the middle of the Arizona desert was also a nice change of scenery. All in all, I figured this would be a good job to have for the next few years.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I found out on my first day of work that my abusive aunt also worked there. She was one of the senior executives at the company. I had no idea she'd moved out to Arizona. Hell, I hadn't even known she was in the civil engineering field. I suppose her profession had never come up during those horrific years, when she was inflicting countless psychological tortures on me. All of those terrible memories, of my teenaged years spent unloved and unwanted, flooded back into my head. I actually considered quitting on the spot.

But then I got a hold of myself. Why should I quit? Why should I let her affect my life any more, now that I was free from her grasp? I didn't care if she's my father's sister. There was no familial connection to speak of in my mind. To me, she was just another member of the company. She wasn't even my direct supervisor, so there probably wasn't any way she could affect my employment at the company.

She saw me a few times in the headquarters building during my first few weeks there. She ignored me the first few times, but one Friday afternoon, right before quitting time, she stopped me in a hallway, and said, "Danny? Danny, that's you, isn't it?"

I briefly considered ignoring her and just walking away, but decided that I should at least put on a facade of civility. I didn't want to be the one to stir up office drama. "Hi, Aunt Jenny. Yeah, it's me."

"Wow, I barely recognized you! It's been, what, ten years, twelve years since you moved out? I haven't seen you at all since then! How are you doing?" Her voice was filled with what sounded like genuine warmth and care. I was nonetheless wary. This was the woman who'd spent eight years inflicting misery on me. I had no intention of letting down my defenses.

"I'm fine," I replied simply. Maybe we'd be able to finish this conversation quickly and I'd be able to get out of here.

"Oh that's good! That's good! I'm glad to hear it!" Aunt Jenny beamed at me. Her smile faded somewhat when I gave no real response. "Aren't you glad to see me too?"

Should I tell the truth, or should I continue with my facade, in the interests of avoiding drama? I picked the second option. "Sure, Aunt Jenny. Very glad."

My aunt's expression became very serious. "Really?"

Keep up the facade, I told myself. "Yes."

"Really really?"

"Yes," I said through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure that's how you really feel?"

Oh fuck you, Aunt Jenny. There she was going again, trying to plant seeds of doubt in my mind, trying to make me second-guess what I was thinking and feeling. I said nothing, and simply glared at her.

An odd expression spread over my aunt's face. "It's painful, isn't it? The way I made you feel? The way I'm making you feel now? Danny... for what it's worth, I'm sorry."

That was unexpected. In the years I've known this woman, she had never apologized for anything.

"Danny," she continued, "I truly am sorry for how I treated you when you lived with us. You see, your uncle and I never wanted to have kids. But when you were handed over to us, we couldn't say no. I wanted to get you away from your father. The way your dad treated you... that's how our father treated us. He was violent and abusive. Your father was repeating the cycle. I wanted to break the cycle by never having kids, but when you came to live with us... well... I'm sorry to say I ended up treating you the way our father had treated me. I recognize that now. I was wrong, and I hope you can forgive me."

My emotions were having a full-scale war within my chest. Half of me still hated her for what she'd put me through. The other half wanted to believe her, wanted to believe that her apology and contrition were genuine. I said nothing, and just stared at her.

Aunt Jenny continued, "I know saying sorry doesn't make up for all those years you spent with us. But at least I'm glad to see you're doing pretty well. I'm glad that I didn't end up damaging you too much."

The half of me that wanted to believe her won out. "But... Aunt Jenny... you did damage me. You did. I've had to go to therapy for years. When I found out you work here, I wanted to quit right away. I know you say you're sorry, and I guess I want to believe you, but I also want you to know what you did to me." I looked around for something to use as an analogy. I settled on the desert scenery outside the window. Pointing to the distant horizon, I said, "It's like those mountains and plateaus out there. They've been worn down by the sand and the wind. They look tall and strong, but they used to be taller and stronger. All that shit you put me through... it wore me down. And there's no way to undo that. So, basically, I guess what I'm trying to say is... I don't know if I can forgive you. But at least I think we can try working together in peace."

My aunt had tears in her eyes. "I know, I know, Danny. I'm really sorry. But for what it's worth, I'm going to try to change. You don't have to worry about us working together. You don't have to quit your job. You're like a big, strong plateau that's endured so much, and still stands tall and resilient. You don't have to worry about us working at the same company, I'm not going to cause any trouble for you. After all, an aunt has no quarrel with a butte."