Death Will Always Win

Found

"Are you sure the other kids won't notice?" Conner asked as he looked up to his sister while she smeared the foundation-covered makeup pad over his cheek. The boy winced and pulled slightly away as it came in contact with the ugly, purplish bruise that marred his cheek.

You should be OK." Madeline replied as she did her best to gently pat the substance onto his skin, trying not to hurt him further in the process. Conner held his breath as she worked and didn't make another sound. He was strong. They both were. Mainly, because they had to be.

Madeline and Conner Shandon did not have it easy. Their early years consisted of two parents struggling to break away from either a dysfunctional, and often abusive, family or a family that went out of their way to ignore the fact their "little girl" had gone off and married some low-class hoodlum from the wrong side of the tracks. Still, the Shandons did their best to make it work for themselves and their two children. They at least managed to put food on the table and a roof over Madeline and Conner's heads.

However, that life came to a sudden end as a car crash took the lives of both senior Shandons. Madeline, who was only eight at the time, was forced to endure the loss of the two most important people in her life and become the guardian of her little three-year-old brother. With their parents gone, the two were given custody to their uncle, who came from the same abusive family that their father tried to escape. Drunk and angry, he had a tendency to take out his aggression on the two children. Neither could speak up to anyone about his abuse, however, under threat that "if he went down, he'd take the two of them to hell with him."

Madeline got good at covering up the bruises. And that's what she was doing now for her little brother. He had made the mistake of spilling his soda on the carpet and paid the price with a swift backhand from their uncle that left him crying on the floor. She hated seeing her brother in pain. That's one reason why she helped him. Conner was only twelve now. He didn't deserve to have this kind of pain. He was just a kid and Madeline hated to see that swollen, darkened reminder of what he'd been through on his face.

"I think I almost got it." she spoke as she dabbed a bit more of the makeup. "Yes, there!" A small smile and she pulled away. "Good as new." Madeline took a moment to look over her work. The foundation blended well with the light tan of his face and that was needed. His short blonde hair couldn't be used to cover up problem areas like her longer hair could. Conner lift a hand to poke at the concealed bruise, but she swiftly pushed it away. "Hey, kid! Don't do that or you'll smear it. And then all the kids at school will find out that you got makeup on." she teased with a small chuckle and gave his arm a nudge with her own.

"Yeah, yeah." he replied with a sigh before he leaned in to look in the bathroom mirror, eyes taking in every detail of his new look. "Thanks, sis. I'm glad you're here." Conner turned to her with a bright smile. She couldn't help but return it with one of her own. That smile. Even through all this crap, he still found a way to have a genuine smile. It brightened up every bit of his face and she could swear that those bright blue eyes of his almost sparkled. It gave her hope that, maybe, if they hung in a little longer they could escape this. That hope was the reason why she still got out of bed every morning

* * *

The door swung open slowly as Madeline crept into the house. The school day finished and it was time to slink back into the household shadows while she hoped she wasn't spotted. Uncle Lewis tended to hold in his angry attitude long enough for him to take it out on the kids when they got home from school. The best strategy was to just slip away, hide, and pretend you're not there. Locking yourself in your room was a good strategy until he discovered you were home. Or passed out. The later was obviously the one Madeline always hoped for.

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