5 Minutes in a Lifetime

[1]

Breathe. Just breathe. Keep running. Where's Alex? Is he alright?
     My mind is a jumble of thoughts as I push my legs to run faster through the dark forest.
    They burned like hell. I could only imagine the pain Alex felt as he ran with that cut on his leg.
Alex... My brother. My second half. As I ponder his whereabouts my foot catches on something in front of me and I tumble to the forest floor.
   My hands burn as they scrape against rocks and twigs but I pull myself up.
    When I check my hands I see a gash cutting through my palm. That's gonna leave a scar.
    "You get back here boy!" My heart thuds louder, and harder.
    My legs start to move again as terror sets through me. "K-keep going" my lungs feel as though i've breathed in razor blades, but I trudge on.
   The footsteps behind me fade and I can only guess my chaser had stopped chasing.
   As I catch my breath, my eyes analyze my surroundings.
   Trees, of course, were scattered heavily around me. Pine needles and colorful leaves mixed together on the ground to make a picture of swirling reds, yellows and oranges.
   My mind immediately switches to Alex and my mouth opens to call his name. "Alex!" My voice is raw from screaming earlier so the sound came out horse and raspy.
    "Alex!.... Alex..." I find a log not to far away and I sit down as warm, salty tears begin to drip down my cheeks.
   My hiccups echo through the forest as I sob. Why?... Why us?...
   I remember the angry screaming of our druggie/alcoholic mother. I remember our dad not being there to distract her. I remember our mother pulling a knife and threatening that if we were ever late again that she would hurt us worse.
   I even remember Alex's screams as she cut him after he had muttered a few choice words at the woman.
   It was excruciating as my sore lungs heaved as heavy tears continued to appear. Crunch... Crunch...
   My head snaps up at the sound of  footsteps. My longish black hair skewers my view of the person in front of me.
  They come closer and bend down. Pale hands like my own are set down on my knees.
   "Adrian?" A soft whisper calls my name and I immediately throw my arms around the person I recognize to be my brother.
   "Alex..." I gasp out. His arms curl around my torso. "When will it end?... I want it to end..."
    "I know... I know..." His hands tighten on my black hoodie. My hold tightens on his own.
   "How touching" the growl startles both of us and we pull apart quickly. There, standing in front of us, was our mom.
   Now when you think of a mom you'd think bright eyes and a nice smile. Our mom was the exact opposite.
   Her crazy brown hair was stuck up in all directions. Her eyes, brown and smoldering, were lit with a fire, and a dangerous one at that.
    "M-mom..." Alex stutters out. His hand subconsciously drifts to the injury on his leg. There's no way to run...
    I scoot down and in front of Alex, guarding him from our mother's stare. "You're drunk..." I note quietly, "...you don't know what you're doing...".
She sneers at me. "Shut up Andrew, I am perfectly sober". she says, slightly slurred. Her fists are now clenched hard. Her broken nails are probably breaking the skin of her rough palms as her temper rises.
   "It's Adrian" I'm surprised when my voice doesn't quiver, despite the heavy hiccups that rock my chest. "I don't give a damn about your name, you're coming home so I can give you a proper beating!" She lunges forward and grabs a fistful of my hair, as well as swerving and grabbing Alex's too.
    Tears prick my eyes again as we struggle to pull free of her grasp. She was strong for a 36 year old women.
  I cry out, attempting to punch her leg with my injured hand but she turns and steps on it, letting more blood flow freely from the wound.
    "Don't try anything you little bitch or little Alex over here gets it."
   There it was... The same tactic that she always used. The same tactic that she knew would work.
   She had used it on both of us plenty of times. Sometimes, if our big sister Diane was home and in a fight, she would threaten her too, by hurting us.
   She knew that we all cared deeply for one another. That was her greatest weapon besides physical abuse. Let me tell you that sometimes.... the mental abuse hurt worse.
   She turns back around with a growl and continues to walk back towards the hell we call home. I could tell Alex was trying to keep quiet as his leg scratches rocks and other sharp items that lay on the ground.
    The house comes into view and i'm surprised that we hadn't run far. We're thrown down on the porch as our mom releases our hair. "In the house!" she barks. We crawl, terrified, into the living room where an unconscious Diane lay.  The living rooms seemed almost normal, if I hadn't been living in it for the past 16 years.
    "You two are worthless! I should've aborted you when I had the chance, but that good for nothing father of yours stopped me. They'll be like angels he said. Don't worry he said, bullshit! You devils are the worst thing that's ever happened to me!" She practically screams the words in our face. Her face scrunches into a scowl, turning, she walks into the kitchen, pulling out another bottle of beer. She takes a swig. Stumbling, she turns around to walk back towards us.
My head spins from her dragging us, but I sit up and lean against the wall. "Yeah?! Well you're the worst mother we could've ever imagined! All you do is sleep all day, you lazy pig!" I'm surprised by Alex's outburst, but what I'm not surprised by is the punch that comes after it.                                             He holds his cheek after mom's fist makes contact with it, tears in the corner of his eyes.  "Hey! Don't touch him!" She rounds on me and brings her leg up kicking me in the stomach. I hear her mutter something among the lines of 'bitch' before she continues.                                Hit after hit, after hit, after hit, and it keeps going. The only sound was our screams and mom's maniac laugh drifting through the night. Nobody could hear us though... Nobody ever did... We lived in the middle of nowhere, at least a 30 minute drive to town. So no, there wasn't anybody to save us. Just us, our thoughts, and the agonizing pain, both physical and mental.
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Picture above belongs to the artist. I did change the hair color, but I will post the original next chapter. <3

~The Author