All The Faith In The World

Chapter 5: Then There Were 4

I don't know how long I laid on the floor for. Connor and Noah stayed the whole time. Connor told me the whole story. About the big fight and then mom went to the bar and then she met Robert and then she had a little more than 1 drink then I came along. I cried a lot, but, what else was there to do, honestly. With my eyes red and puffy, and it almost being 12:30 by the time I was calmed down, I fell asleep on the carpet, my head in Connor's lap and Noah stroking my hair. I would never know it, but Noah carried me to my room and put me into the bed. Not once had mom come out to say anything to us since dad left. She stayed in her room and occasionally picked up a box or two from the hallway and shoved into an open crack in our black hole of a garage. As I drifted off into a perfect world with perfect parents and a perfect house and a perfect life, I couldn't help but wonder when dad was coming back, and if he did, did he really want me? What about Robert? Had he ever wanted to meet me or be in my life at all?

I woke up to the sounds of yelling and slamming things. My door was shut, so I climbed out of bed to open it and face the world I never wanted to see again. It was like a friend you had a fight with, but then you had to go to school and face them the next day and try to make up. I opened the door a crack and stuck my head out.

"Well, why did you let him go?!?!?!" my mom yelled in the living room.

"There was no stopping him! He made up his mind," Connor yelled back, his voice shaking. I have never heard him nervous like that.

"If you all weren't so stupid you would have kept him here and let me deal with him this morning!" she yelled again.

I could tell from her voice she was drunk. Great, I woke up to a drunk mother, no father, and 2 brothers who were trying to recover from last night just like I was. No one yelled anything after that. I decided now would be the best time to get some toast. All I needed was some toast, and if that takes too long, I take a cheese stick and run for my room again. I jumped out of my safe bed and ran into the kitchen, avoiding as many boxes as possible along the way. Noah was sitting at the counter, eating cereal and wearing a old t shirt and jeans. Connor was leaning against the counter, facing us, like she had been screaming in his face. My mom was leaning in the fridge with all her weight on the handle of the door. There were many empty beer bottles on the counter and I could see a glimpse of another six pack already in the fridge.

"And you!" She screamed at me when she first saw me. She came towards me and I backed up until I hit the wall. She walked in a zig zag pattern. Connor tried to stop her, but she wouldn't. He followed her all the way to the wall where she was getting ready to yell at me, ready to hold her back if she tried to hit me or something. She stumbled over to me and got right up in my face.

"You worthless, little brat! It's your fault he left! Why did you have to come along and screw up this whole family?" Then she smacked my face so hard I fell to the floor in pain. I put my hand on my cheek to stop the throbbing.

"Leave her alone!!" Noah jumped up from his seat and came up next to me.

Connor pulled her away, but that didn't stop her from still kicking me in my legs, with her heels on, on the floor. She screamed at Connor to let her go. She howled that I deserved everything coming to me. Noah jumped in front of her to act as a shield and give me time to escape. I stumbled back into my room and fell face down on my bed. Everything hurt, my face and legs and arms. Every where she struck. Not only on the outside. My heart hurt as well. I heard the squeaky, rusted hinges of my door door yelp in pain and I immediately hide under my covers for protection.

"Faith, don't worry, it's just me," I heard Noah's voice. I dried my tears and sat up.

"Don't worry, I'm fine. I-I was just going to get ready now," I said, still sniffling a bit, and stood up. I looked at my legs and saw they were bleeding. I felt like I would collapse at any moment, but I stood up and went to my closet. Noah just watched me get the clothes but said nothing. I closed the door on him and changed. I sat on my bed and changed from my soft pajamas into some black athletic shorts and an orange t-shirt from soccer camp forever ago, careful not the get blood on the shorts. I put my red, curly hair in a ponytail and opened my door back up, not expecting him to be there, but he was with a wash cloth and an ice pack. I actually looked at his face, all beaten up. His bottom lip, slashed on one side. His cheek, bruising a bit toward his hairline. His eyes, once playful, had lost all life and were filled with compassion like I had never seen before.

"Thank you, but nothing hurts, I do not need these," I said, thrusting the ice pack and wash cloth back at him.

"Your eye is turning purple and your legs have dried blood on them," Noah said, inviting himself into my room and sitting in my bed, motioning me to come join him. I looked at my eye in the mirror and went to my bed. I sat down next to him.

"Where is Connor and mom?" I asked as he gave me an ice pack and started to clean off my legs. I cringed at the cold water against my bare legs.

"She is out cold on her bed and he is in his room waiting for me to tell him everything is ok with you and I. Here, this is going to hurt a little," he said, motioning toward the alcohol pad he had in his hand. He very gently put it on each one of my cuts. I dug my hands into my pillow and bit down on the edge to keep a blood curdling scream on the tip of my tongue and not in the atmosphere. With the look in his face, I could tell it killed him to watch me in this much pain and him knowing he was the one causing it. Once the pad was dry and all the cuts were disinfected, I put the ice pack on my face and then I really started to feel the pain. I looked at my clock, just now realizing time wasn't frozen. It was 7:49 am and considering I needed to be at school by 8:30, I figured I have time.

"You know it's not your fault right? Nothing is. She's just drunk and she doesn't know what she's talking about," he said. I nodded and looked at the floor. I wish I could believe him, but she really felt like it was all my fault. Noah took back the ice pack and put it on my night stand.

"Do they love me?" I asked and felt my lip quivering. He sat in silence for a minute.

"Well, you know Connor and I do. We love you to the end of the earth, so, don't worry. We won't let anyone hurt you," he said, grooming down my hair like dad used to do when I was little. I picked up the ice pack he left on my nightstand and held it up to his bruising face. He tried to push it off and put it back down, but I waved his hands away and kept it on the color-changing skin.

"Wait, but, if we don't have the same dad, does that mean that we aren't really siblings?" I asked, looking worriedly at his dark brown eyes.

"We are still siblings. And nothing will change that. Not drunk moms, or absent dads, or black eyes, or bloody knees. We will always have your back," he said, pulling me into a hug. The ice pack fell on my bed with a soft bounce. Dad used to hug me like this. He would always wrap both his arms around me so tight, I felt like the whole world was going to wash away in a big, multi-colored ocean. I felt my whole body start shaking and tears came back to my eyes. A shaky breath filled my lungs and Noah held me tighter. Sometimes, all you need is an ice pack to make the pain go away. But this pain is too deep for the ice to heal.