Needing 13 - Johnny Kavanagh

SILENCE

TARA

"Mornin'"

I made a beeline for the coffee pot, my fingers trembling as I poured myself a cup. I could feel every ache and pain in my body—muscles sore and joints throbbing. The morphine and painkillers I'd been gulping down were barely taking the edge off, and if I was honest, I might have swiped a line or two of coke from my brother's stash just to keep me upright. Today was going to be brutal, and I needed every bit of help I could get to numb the pain.

As I lifted the steaming mug to my lips, I glanced up. The room was eerily silent, and everyone was staring at me, their eyes wide and unblinking. The only sound was the soft scrape of Tadhg's knife as he methodically spread jam on his toast, his gaze fixed purposely on his plate. My heart ached for him—he shouldn't have been here yesterday.

He shouldn't have seen the things he saw.

My brave boy.

"What the fuck!?" Joey's voice shattered the silence, his words a guttural roar of anger. His eyes were wild, his face ghostly pale, and his knuckles were white as he gripped the knife in his hand. "What the—? How—?"

Without warning, he launched himself at Da and he landed a powerful punch square on his jaw, "You fucking bastard, how dare ya?"

"Joey, Joey," Mam pleaded, her voice trembling as she tried to pull him away. "Stop it! Teddy, please, he's just a boy!"

"It wasn't me, ya little cunt!" Dad growled, his face contorted in pain and rage. He swung back, landing a blow that caught Joey off guard. "I'd never lay a fucking hand on your sister."

"Shannon," I called out, my voice hoarse as I squeezed her shoulder, trying to break through her shock. "Get Ollie and Sean in Joey's car or you'll be late."

"Your face..." Shannon choked out, her gaze lingering on the bruises and cuts. "I'm grand," I rasped, forcing a faint, reassuring smile. "Come on, hurry up or you'll miss the bus."

"A-ra," Sean cried out, his little arms reaching out toward me, his voice filled with distress. "A-ra."

"Hey, Seany-boo," I cooed softly, bending down to lift him from his chair. As I gently scooped him up, his small hands immediately clung to my cheeks. I bit back a sharp cry of pain, not wanting to alarm him. "Ready for school?"

My little brother's brown eyes filled with tears as he shook his head vigorously. He looked up at me with a mix of confusion and hurt, his bottom lip quivering. "A-ra, ow. A-ra sad."

"It looks worse than it is, Seany-boo."

I cast a quick glance at Ollie, who was already hopping off his chair. He followed me to the couch in the living room where his backpack lay. Shannon and Tadhg trailed behind him, leaving our parents and Joey alone in the kitchen.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Ollie asked, his voice tinged with fear and shyness. His big eyes were fixed on me, filled with worry.

"I'm grand, Olls."

"You don't look like it."

"Please stop!" Mam's voice cut through the air, strained and desperate. I could hear the clatter of glasses and plates smashing, the sound of anger and frustration mixing with the chaos. "Why do you always have to be at each other's throats?"

"Hold him," I said, carefully handing our little brother over to Shannon with a careful motion. "I'll be right back."

Without waiting for a response, I hurried back towards the kitchen, Joey stood over Da, his face twisted in a furious scowl, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. Da was glaring right back at him, blood smeared on his chin, his chest heaving with every breath. Mam was desperately tugging at Joey's arm, trying—and failing miserably—to pull him away from our father.