He's Not Bad, He's Broken

Chapter 1 - Past

Have you ever felt so happy, so happy that you believe it isn't true.

Like, your life has been crap for majority of your life and anything that comes close to it getting better, always takes a turn for the worst.

And then you give up. You stop believing in second chances. You stop believing in people. Everything just always sucks.

But then, something starts to look up. Someone heard your cry for help. Someone called the police, saying they heard strange noises coming from the house next door. God is on your side again. And you have finally escaped. No more abuse.

And now I feel that happiness.

Today, I'm moving.

I have a bad past.

And it left one hell of a scar.

**********

It all started when I was 10 years old. My mother had died, and it was really hard for me, but I wasn't the only one.

Let me tell you about my family.

Brady?

You know how you're supposed to have a caring-protective older brother? My brother was everything and more. He was perfect. He always cared. But then she died.

He was still all of those things, but he got into bad habits. He turned to drugs.

And now? He's in jail, he got caught selling drugs.

I miss him. But I don't think I will see him, again.

Brailey?

My sister? It took a toll on her too, but it wasn't as bad. You see, she was like in shock, or something. She never cried, her emotion was always blank, you could never read her expression, you never knew what she was feeling. But she still cared for us.

That's the only expression you could actually read.

Care.

My father?

He took angry to a whole new level. He was furious. He thought it was everyone's fault, except his. But especially my little sister.

He wanted to take it out on my baby sister. He wanted to hurt a new born child. All because our mother died giving birth to her. Her last child. But it wasn't her fault. She didn't intentionally do it. She was just born for god's sake!

But, he tried. One night I heard crying from my baby sister's room. I ran in and that monster was sitting there hitting her repeatedly. I was horrified. I told him to stop, I tried to grab him. But he only pushed me away.

That was when my older brother came in, he pushed my dad off of her, picked her up and brought us to his room. He has always been a good brother. Even if he did bad things.

But my father kept trying, he tried to hurt her all the time, especially when Brady wasn't around anymore.

But I didn't let him.

I let him hurt me.

All I had was my two sisters and my little brother, they cared for me. So, the least I could do was protect them. I took all the hits.

I wouldn't let him touch any of them.

The twins?

My sister and I took care of them. Until she went to college that is. You might be wondering why she would go and leave us with my father.

But I made her, I knew she wanted it. She needed to live her dreams.

The twins names are Braden and Brandon. Braden is named after my great-grandma my mom adored. She said I could pick Brandon's name and I wanted it to kind of be like Braden's. If you haven't noticed all our names start with B-R-A.

Brady,
Brailey,
Bradley,
Brandon,
Braden.

It might be weird to others, but I love it. It is what makes our family semi-closer.

Or. . .it used to.

But, lets not think about the past.

The present is all we are supposed to worry about. And occasionally the future, or maybe that's just me.

**********

We are moving in with a friend of my mom's now, our Godmother.

They were best friends since they were little.

But, like he does everything. My father ruined that. Mrs. Ryder didn't like him, mom always said that Mrs. Ryder had a bad feeling about him. Mom didn't listen of course. So, Mrs. Ryder distanced herself.

I've met her before, she is a very nice woman. She was very happy to take us in, no questions asked, though I'm sure she was informed of what happened. A very sweet woman indeed.

She is also beautiful. Black hair, green eyes, fairly tall. She is everything any women would want to be at her age. If not more.

She also has a son, and he so happens to be my age.

I heard, from Mrs. Ryder of course, that we used to play together. And we were childhood sweethearts. If that makes any sense. I don't remember much of my childhood. Only vague memories. Not much with a boy though. There is one, with this boy. He looks similar to Mrs. Ryder. And it doesn't take a genius to know it was this. . . guy.

I don't know his name. It never came up. But, I have a feeling that it will eventually. And my gut tells me, this might be better than I imagined.