Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD AND A PACK OF BIG, BAD WOLVES

TADHG

If our brother was our protector, then our sister was our guardian angel.

At least, that's how I saw it.

For as long as I could remember, Tara had been mine. While Shan, Ollie, and Sean naturally gravitated towards our older brother, Joey, I found myself gravitating towards our older sister.

Tara had always been there for me. She was there the day I was born, and she was the first to hold me when I came into the world. She was there when I took my first wobbly steps, catching me when I stumbled. She was there when I lost my first tooth, her smile brighter than mine. She was also there the first time Da's fists collided with my face after I lost my first hurling match. In that moment of pain and confusion, Tara had scooped me into her arms, hugging me tightly and whispering that none of it was my fault. She promised me that this would be the first and last time Da would make me bleed.

I remember that night like it was yesterday, the thunder crashing outside my window. The noise reminded me of Da's outbursts. I didn't cry, because men weren't supposed to cry—at least, that's what Da always said. As I lay there, trying to be brave, I saw her walk into my room. Her presence immediately made me feel safe. With Tara by my side, I knew no harm could come to me.

But I noticed something was off that night. Her clothes were torn unevenly and disheveled, and when she lay down beside me, I smelled Da's whiskey and cheap men's cologne clinging to her. As she hugged me, she let out a pained whimper, like a wounded animal. I remember asking her if she was hurt, if I was hurting her. She answered by holding me even tighter, and then she began to softly sing I'll Stand by You into my ear. Her voice was shaky, but it was enough to calm me down until the storm outside passed.

At the time, I was too young to fully understand what had happened to her. All I knew was that my sister had been hurt, and somehow, it felt like it was my fault.

I tried to protect my older sister as much as I could. After all, after Joey, I was the man of the house. Since I was too young to face Da's wrath directly, I did what I could to mend my sister's wounds. I'd scavenge for bandages and make sure she was alright, trying my best to be the little hero she thought I was.

Tara refused to ask Joey for help. He had never seen her physically hurt. In fact, I reckon I'm the only one among Joey, Shan, Ollie, and Sean who's seen our older sister bleed. Tara only bled when Da got angry about something we'd done.

I knew this because I stayed awake the nights when it happened. Tara and Shan's room was across the hall from mine, and I would hear Da's heavy footsteps as he came in and took her away. Hours later, he would leave her lying at the door, discarded and broken. He used to kneel down next to her, brush a lock of hair from her forehead, and tell her that he loved her, that he was proud of her, and that she was his favorite daughter.

I felt like a coward for watching it all happen without saying anything. I felt like screaming. I wanted to tear Da off of her and shout at him to never touch her again, to tell him that he cared about nothing and no one. But I just watched in silence. She would then get up from the floor once Da had gone back into his room. She would lie down next to me, hug me tightly, and sing our song to me until we both drifted off to sleep.

I remember getting angry at her for not asking Joey for help, for letting Da touch her, and for not resisting. Joey could protect her—why wouldn't she allow herself to be protected by him?

As we grew older, students in the hallways at BCS would start whispering when they heard our last name. At first, I thought it was because of Joey. He often got into scraps and always ended up in Mr. Nyhan's office. But then I learned that it wasn't because of my brother, but because of my sister. My brother's fists were nothing compared to my sister's retaliation, especially if Joey, Shan, and I were involved.