The Protector (Discontinued)

Chap. 17 Why? (Part five)

Mention of physical and sexual abuse.

Chapter 17

Why?

Part 5

Luke's POV

I starred out of the window like I usually do, thinking. Thinking over the past. Over how my mom killed herself and my father left me, saying neither of us were worth the effort people put in to even be in our presence. I had done all I could do, everything I was capable of doing to keep her safe, but I couldn't do it. I'm weak.

I couldn't protect my own little sister from her own father. I was so weak, it was pitiful, stupid, it was unforgivable.

I hadn't been home, I wasn't there, I couldn't change what had happened, no matter how hard I wished for it, no matter how much I had cried.

It had been a little while after my mom had killed herself, a little before my father- that horrible, terrible excuse for a man killed my little sister.

It had meant the world when my little sister had been born. Someone to play with, someone to talk to, someone to be protective over, someone to grow up with that I could feel really cared for me like I cared for them.

She had been my pride and joy, so that was what I called her. Joy.

It had been impossible to guess what had been happening to her when I was a kid, but now, looking back on it, it seems to me that it was screaming to me by the way her body acted around him.

I can remember coming home one awful night, seeing the long since dead corpse of her covered in blood, and nothing else. The scarring over her body terrified me, angered me, killed me on the inside. How did I never notice? She flinched away from any sort of touch and hung her head in shame when he was near, the dead look in her soft chocolate brown eyes, so similar to mine that used to shine with innocence and LIFE. It was gone.

How could I of let that happen to her? The one I loved the most in this world, my strength, the person who gave me the strength to go on, to live, had been hurting and I hadn't known, I hadn't saved her, I hadn't helped her.

I was alone, with no one else left in the world who truly loved me, and I could love back, I had nothing.

Perhaps this is what I deserve, perhaps, I was meant to be alone, to die a lonely man, if that's what you can call me.

Maybe this was the way I was meant to be.

I haven't told anyone about her.

She is my lonely secret.

My lost faith, my insecurity.