I flipped aimlessly through the channels, lounging back on the large leather sectional. Not caring about anything else on TV, I turned the channel to Titanic. A romance lost at sea. A fairy tale with a less than happy ending. Something real. Not every story ends in a happy couple ridding into the sunset on a white horse. It happens though. And that's what I look forward to some day.
Don't get me wrong, I'm far from a pessimist. In fact, I almost always have a smile on. I don't like when others are sad, and if that means I have to make believe a smile, then I'll do it.
"Whatcha doing?" My older brother asks, coming into the dark and quiet room. He pushes his long dark hair out of his vision and falls beside me on the sofa. "This is the best movie."
"Just a hopeless romantic, you are." I tease. He lets out a deep chuckle and offers me a place to rest me head on his shoulder. I accept and am lulled to sleep by the sounds of the movie and warmth of my brother.
I'm woken up by a loud crash in the kitchen; My pillow -formerly my brother- has been replaced with a soft cushion. I jolt up and run to the scene of the sound. Not to my surprise, its my uncle who has come home drunk yet again. I help him up and walk him to a dining room chair.
"How did you get home, Bentley?" I asked. I walked over and got the broom to clean up the glass that had just shattered to the ground along with my uncle.
"I called a cab. I'm not a fucking idiot. Margret Elizabeth, you're not the only one with sense in this poor excuse of a family." He yelled. I finished sweeping and went outside to see if the driver were still there. Assuming he had already paid, I went back inside. "Where do you think you're going?" he growled taking a tight grip on my arm.
"I was just checking to see if you'd paid the driver. Please let go. You're hurting me." I begged. tears began falling from my eyes. I tried to force them back, knowing it only makes him more upset.
"You're such a whiny bitch. No wonder you're mom didn't want you." He spat, slamming to the floor.
I looked up slightly as he walked up the stairs to the left of the foyer. I continued to blink back the tears that were trying so desperately tried to flood out of me. I take hold of my head that was throbbing from hitting the marble table. I grabbed hold of my cellular from the sofa and rushed out the door, feeling the warm blood matting my thick dark hair on the back of my head.
I pulled on my beanie, feeling the cold breeze on my head. I walked as fast as my disoriented mind would take me to my best friends house. I prayed he was home as I knocked desperately on the door. Shortly after, he opened it and his draw dropped at my unruly appearance. Although, he'd seen me when I'd looked worse at the hand of my uncle.
He quickly pulled me into the house and wrapped my shivering body in his arms. It probably wasn't a good idea to run out of the house in only short pajama shorts and a tank top in the middle of December in Connecticut. I just had to get out of there.
"Oh my God, Maggie. What happened?" Kellin whispered in my ear. I didn't want to explain. I just wanted to leave it a dying subject. I was warm, but still shaking. I just wanted Kellin to keep talking to me. Him and my brother were the only two who could calm me down. I didn't like talking about it. "I'm going to call your brother and tell him to come over, okay? Here, you sit down and I'll make you some hot tea." His low voice explained. I nodded and walked to the bar stool he motioned to.
I felt the back of my head, finding that the blood hat soaked through my hat. I called Kellin in from where he was making my tea in the kitchen and showed him the gash in my head. I've had worse injuries. My worst would probably be when Bentley got drunk last year and threw a glass vase at me and it shattered on my face, nearly blinding me.
"Andrew, I need you to meet us at the hospital. Your uncle went berserk again. It's bad."
