𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ~ | 𝘔𝘢𝘹 𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯

023 || Did I hit a nerve?

⚠ Trigger warning ⚠

Violence, physical abuse, swearing

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A young girl stood in a dimly lit room, her weary eyes fixed on her little brother. His cries echoed through the dilapidated walls of their shack, resonating with a piercing intensity that seemed to pierce her very soul. She yearned for a moment of respite—a brief respite from the constant symphony of his wails. But, as always, her efforts to soothe him were in vain.

"Shhh, it's okay." She whispered, her voice trembling with weariness.

The soft plea hung in the air, mingling with the dust particles that danced in the slivers of sunlight peeking through the tattered curtains. The girl's eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and tenderness as she reached down to scoop the little boy into her arms.

His tiny body quivered with sobs, his face flushed and tear-streaked. She held him close, feeling the warmth of his small frame against her chest, hoping that her touch would calm his restless spirit.

She began to sing. Her voice cracked with exhaustion, but the melody was sweet. She wiped her brothers tear-stained cheeks with her sleeve gently as she continued to sing. She closed her eyes, the baby boy quietening at last. It was as if she was singing to herself just as much as him.

The loud sound of footsteps on the stairs echoed through the room, making her cease her humming quickly. It was the heavy boots on her father.

The man in the doorway watched her. His dark eyes were sunken, and he had dark bags hanging below them. His black hair, now streaked with gray, looked greasy and ungroomed. His beard was beginning to curl. He leaned against the doorframe, a half-empty bottle clutched in his fist.

As he approached his daughter, he took a slow breath. She didn't look up at him as she lowered the baby back into his crib. He had finally settled down. 

She didn't need to look at her father to know he was drunk. She could smell the pungent smell of liquor that clung to him.

She whisped a few more sweet things to the baby, tucking him in, before turning to face her father. He didn't say a word.

"Where have you been?" She asked softly.

"Doesn't matter." He muttered, advertising his gaze. He still would never look her in the eyes.

"Doesn't matter? You've been gone for two days! You could have been dead for all I knew!" She tried to keep her voice calm, but her anger was overwhelming.

"What I do is none of your concern." He growled. His voice was a warning, but she wouldn't back away this time.

"I'm about to get expelled. I can't just keep missing school just because you want to go out calavanting wherever you want." She pushed.

"Then get expelled! Who fucking cares?" He waved a hand, walking away to rummage through a cupboard.

"Me! I care! I refuse to grow up without getting an education. I just want to be normal, dad." She tried to lower her voice. "Please... I'm already so behind."

"Will you stop your whining? Every time I come home, you just won't shut up! Complaining about how hard your life is. I'm fucking sick of it." He snarled. She winced a little, but she still wasn't going to back off.