𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐑: Hope
Louis and Aimée Cartier are two kids living in four walls of complete nightmare. Ever since their mom overdosed Louis stepped in as the parental figure for Aimée. In Louis's world, his sister was a top priority, even if that meant...
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As I watch my younger brother strap on his sisters knee brace, I frown.
From what my father told me it didn't take a genius to know that Louis raised Aimée, and guessing by the significant amount of injuries Louis has, he was clearly trying to protect his younger sister.
I was almost twenty-one, a full-grown male, and Louis was only sixteen. Yet he carried this maturity with him that I didn't. When I was his age I was living the teenage dream, going out to parties, getting my firsts, and my only concern was wether if my favorite soda was going to be in the fridge when I got home.
I doubt I'd have the balls to do what Louis did. He was beyond his years—and it showed. I almost felt insecure that I was in my early twenties and still acting like a child.
Louis rises, bringing Aimée up with him. "Ready?" I smile, not trying to look at the many bruises littering their faces.
He scowls, nodding a little.
I turn on my heel awkwardly, walking down the lengthy hallway and toward the stairs.
They walk so quietly I even have to look back to even make sure they are following.
"You can walk down the stairs, right?" I look toward Aimée whose head is downcast, focused on fiddling with her hospital bracelet, once she notices I'm talking to her, her eyes snap to mine.
Louis grabs her hand, moving her behind him. "She's fine," he snaps, top lip curling up.
I put my hands up in surrender, giving him a small smile. He narrows his eyes at me, a clear look of disgust on his face.
We walk down the stairs, silently and slowly. I would have suggested we use the elevator for Aimée's knee but I'm afraid Louis would try to bite my head off.
Once he lets Aimée walk on her own, I get a good view of her. I smile at how adorable she looks in her PJs.
Her hair is still the same bright blonde it was when she was a baby, just longer. Light freckles cover her button nose and cheeks. When she was a baby people would often compare her to a porcelain doll.
She clings to her brother's side as her life depends on it, making me frown. I can't even imagine what they've gone through at such a young age.
Everyone is already seated at the dining table, Dad had called us down thirty minutes to prior to informing the rest of my siblings about...Louis and Aimée's circumstances.
