Not Your Typical Country Girl

Prolouge

Prolouge

"That's yet another failure!" My mother screamed. Her face was red with pure rage, eyes no longer soft and loving, hands clentched in anger not sadness.

My older brother's gaze fell to the floor. "Mom I said sorry a thousand times already. There's nothing else I can say."

My brother, Adam, a smart boy. Got straight A's, was in marching band, jazz band, chior, and was on the debate team. Everyone thought he was perfect. But he's not, he's human. And Gay. Which doesn't sit well with my parents.

My mother's hand made hard contact with Adam's face, forcing him to the floor. "You're right, there nothing left for you to say. Get out of this house!"

Adam stayed on the floor, knowing this was one of my mother's episodes. Anyone could tell, by the crazed look in her bloodshot eyes, the reek of alchol and whatever she'd smoked that day. "I'll go." He spoke quietly.

Just stay down. I thought.

"You better you worthless piece of shit, just wait till your father gets home." She slurred angered. "He's going to throw your shit out the window if you don't get it yourself."

My big brother nodded, keeping his head down as he rose up to his feet. He was a good three feet taller then our monster of a mother but, something in his nature just wouldn't let him hurt her. No matter what she did to him. He avoided her eyes and walked straight to me, lifting me as I raised my arms to him.

His legs carried us quickly up the stairs, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck and his arm securely around my legs. We reached his bedroom door, he opened it with shaking hands and set me down on the floor. The door shut and he twisted the lock. He sat down on his knees and looked over my face, gently resting his hands on my shoulders.

"Where'd she hit you?" He questioned, concern and worry written all over his face.

With unspoken words, I lifted my pink powerpuff girls shirt, revealing to my older brother all the bruises.

His sigh was the only noise in the room. He pulled my shirt back down and lifted me again. "I'm going to go talk to her."

"No!" I squealed. Jumping off the bed and cling to his legs. "Don't back down there! Mommy will hurt you!" Tears started to build in my eyes.

He chuckled softly, his slightly feminine voice yet deep tone echoing in the room. "Don't worry hunny. I'll be right back." He handed me his old red flips phone and placed it in my hands with a brave smile. "Just call Thomas, he'll talk to you wihile I'm downstairs."

I nodded stiffly, trying to hold my tears in and be just as brave as my big brother. The phone clutched in my hands as a lifeline, when it really could be his only lifeline.

His smile vanished, and his eyes went deathly serious. "Listen to me okay."

I nodded quickly, I always listened to him. He is the only person whoever bothered to tell me things.

"You are special. No matter what mom and dad tell you. Your a beautiful, smart, talented, perfect little girl. Promise me that no matter what happens; no matter when, you will always be yourself." He paused and gauged my reaction. "Don't let mom and dad put you down. Stand strong on your own. You don't need anyone else. Okay? Can you promise me that?"

My tears escaped unnoticed, his own hid behind his eyes swimming in a pool of pain and regret. "I promise Bubba." I jumped into his arms and held on with all I had. Never wanting to let go of him, wanting him to stay up here with me. Sing me to sleep and hold me when I cry. Be my hero.

The door opened under his fingers he turned back to me once more. "Keep the door locked."

　

My brother almost died that night.I was only seven. Luckily I had called Thomas soon enough, but I was still too late. Adam had suffered two gun shot wounds as well as several broken bones and a few stab wounds. My mother had beaten her own son to a bloody pulp. All over a report card.