truth

the morning after.

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING??? Brett, if he presses charges-" I yelled, my voice echoing throughout the kitchen as I panicked.

"Then I'll show them your eye, and your waist. I think any jury would call this second hand self defense and let me off." he said, smiling as he hugged me, trying to take my worry away.

Raymond had stayed with Brett and me over night, and filled me in on what had happened last night. Most of which I remembered, besides the beating of James. My doctor said that my "fall" was very, very severe.

"And even if I did go away, I'd do fine in jail!" he laughed, trying to make light of the situation.
He failed epically at it, but he tried.

"You broke his jaw, cracked three ribs, and fractured his skull." I said, feeling argumentative. He had been reckless, and I couldn't stand the thought of him leaving or being taken away.

He glared at me, his eyes boring holes into my forehead.
"How many times has he fractued your ribs? How many times have you had to cover up black eyes? You've been hurt enough. We didn't have the ideal child hood, but I'm trying to give you an ideal life! You deserve that. You may be worried about me, but I'm worried about you too." he finished, looking away and pulling himself together.

Ugh... I'm an ass.

"I'm sorry, I just... I hate that you had to do that. That I made a bad decision and was to weak to run. And because of that, you had to do something so awful, something I could have avoided if... If I'd given him what he wanted." a tear began to run down my face.

He looked at me with guilt, knowing I didn't cry often and that I must really be upset.

"It's not your fault. You shouldn't have to compromise, and you should not give him what he wants. Not out of fear, or guilt, or obligation. You didn't tell him to hit you. Stop. You did nothing wrong." he said, hugging me.

I didn't want the hug. I wanted him to be safe and happy and not busy taking care of his "baby sister."

I stopped fighting him, my body hurt and I just wanted to feel better.  I just want to get away, start over. Why can't I just leave? Oh yeah, I have work and school and car payments and a life... I guess I'm stuck here.

"I need some sleep." I said quietly but firmly. I needed to get away from this.

"It's 9 in the morning" he scoffed, giggling as he looked at me in my basketball shorts and his old tshirt. I looked ridiculous. Like, bad.

"I'm going to go to bed. I didnt sleep much after James left. And... Thank you. What you did for me is... I don't know how to thank you enough... For everything." he gave me a look, knowing exactly what I meant. She just shrugged and gave me a lopsided smile. "What are big brothers for?" he whispered back.

I walked out, trying to keep myself from turning around. I need sleep. I need escape.

He has taken care of me since I was born. We may only be three years apart, but he deffinately understood the concept of a big brother.

My parents gave us up when I was born. I guess two was more than they could handle. Anyways, after that they never saw us again.

The foster home "distributors" as we called them, seperated us when giving us families. One kid is easier to get rid of than two, I soon learned.

That never lasted long, though. The first time, I was four months old and I had never been away from Brett. The adults "loved" me at first, thinking I was an easy baby. Then they took me home, away from Brett... I wouldn't shut up, screaming at the top of my lungs and crying, never pausing to eat or sleep.