Willow admitted that she'd rather received Oliver's rough bi-weekly punishments rather than having to sit outside on a cardboard box.
Every morning, when the sun would rise up, Emma would drop them food. Willow would ration her own serving, giving some of it to Sammy. He'd gobble it up, hugging to himself as if he were still starving after every serving.
Willow never looked at Emma, nor thanked her. She rarely spoke. Sammy always remained silent.
In the house, Emma and Alex would search. Oliver was nowhere to be found, almost remaining hidden in the confinement of his room. Alex would scrounge for things that would help the twins, going into their bedroom to pick out clothing. Emma was the one that made the distress call out to her mother, whom she had locked away in her blocked folder on her phone.
It was when the day slowly started to turn with no response from Sarah did Emma start to worry. Every night before they went to bed, Emma would sneak dinner and extra snacks out the window in small boxes. Alex kept watch, straining his ears for his father's footsteps.
Willow would take the things and hand them off to Sammy. Emma would feed their clothing through the window, hoping that they didn't land in the mud. Willow reached up, snatching the clothing and things from her hands.
They began to settle back down for their miserable night. Sammy was huddling close to Willow, huffing gently, tucking the blanket over his limbs.
"I called mom for you..." Emma managed to whisper, feeling the guilt pooling in her chest. Willow said nothing. She didn't look up, only tucked themselves in. Emma stared down at her younger sister, eyebrows knitting together as she realized what her words and sheepishness brought upon the household.
It was then, when Oliver began to remove them by dragging them by their wrists, did Emma realize the lies. How she couldn't see earlier was suddenly the main cause of her guilt for her own stupidity.
She heard Sammy's screams as Oliver made him bleed. Heard her father's prayers over Willow's body, asking that God fix her deformity in her identity. Emma watched as Oliver struck them both down, noticing how Sammy fought back no matter how hard Oliver hit him. Sammy would hiss insults, trying to use his small strength against their abuser.
Sammy would be forced underneath water, slamming his palm into the counter as he struggled to stay conscious. Oliver would feel him kick into his shins, the water bubbling. He'd count as Sammy started to fall limp, pulling him up from the water before he could drown. Sammy would gulp down air like it would never come to him again. His head would pound, his palms bruised from slamming them down.
Willow saw Sammy go back under, even though he was beginning to beg for mercy, which was a point he rarely got to. She had rushed up against Oliver, using the momentum to slam his knees into the cabinets. His grip would loosen, allowing Sammy to slither out of the sink, and onto the floor where he gasped for breath.
Willow grabbed anything she could use. The first thing she grabbed was a pan. With a clenched jaw, Willow sung hard against Oliver's shoulder, growling out as she saw her brother practically drowning on the floor. Oliver swung, catching the pan before he could reach her face. Willow threw the pan at his face, quickly getting down to her brother to help him cough up the water he swallowed. The soap was bitter and it burned in his throat and lungs.
How Emma never realized her misjudgment even after all those events was still beyond her.
Another day passed and it was about mid afternoon. Sammy was told by Willow to stay where he was, afraid that Oliver would spot them in his backyard and would remove them from the property, a place where they were barely surviving.
YOU ARE READING
The Grean Household
Romance"It was a mistake..." She told her mother, folding her hands into each other. "Marrying him..." Her mother said nothing, she simply sat there as her only daughter stood across from her, on the verge of collapsing from bruised ribs and cracked shins...
