Butterfly Effect

Chapter 1

"Ashlee, can you pass the sugar, please?" asks Vicki, my eldest sister. I obey and pass the sugar, but I almost drop it.

"Pay attention!" she reprimands. I, visibly embarrassed by this, blush before muttering an apology. Meanwhile, Casie and Lexi, my other older sisters, are laughing softly, but this makes me blush even more to the point that I could cry.

On the other hand, Emilee and Lyra, my younger sister are eating up lots of cookies, all while laughing loud. Okay, why is everyone laughing like that? My clumsiness is definitely no mystery to my family, which makes me the object of their mockery. I have to admit this, I definitely envy Ethan (if you're wondering, he's my only best friend in a place where anyone else would just make fun of me) because he's an only child and therefore doesn't have to crumble under the pressure to be the perfect brother.

Anyway, I avoid looking at anyone else and keep having my breakfast in peace. My parents are looking at me, though I'm ignoring them. I know they're anything but proud of me. I've never seen them approve of anything I do. I always feel like I'm constantly judged by them, which makes me suffer a lot.

Wanting not to have to deal with anyone else in this house, I leave the kitchen, but Dad notices and asks suspiciously, "Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

I hate him. He's so biased towards the others, whereas he couldn't give a damn about him. According to my parents, I shouldn't even have been born. I'm a mistake to them. Well, if I'm a mistake, then why are they still bearing with me? Couldn't they just let go of me?

I choose not to reply to him and go back to my room, crying rivers. I thought it would be a better day than others, but my family's attitude just proved that, in their opinion, I'm absolutely useless and they can say and do what they want to me.

To be honest, recently I've even started considering I've been adopted. Unfortunately for anyone who think I have a happy family, this is true. The happy family doesn't exist at all, or, at least in my case. Being the middle child, constantly mistreated by those witches of my older sisters or played pranks on by my younger ones, makes me feel estranged. (It also sucks, if you're wondering.)

Oh no! Dad is here, and it seems his intentions are anything but good. He has just extracted a belt. I know he's going to hit me, but, before he does so, he shouts, "When I ask you a question, you're supposed to answer! Also, I didn't tell you you can go back upstairs whenever you want. You had to stay there!" Yeah, I had to stay there to be belittled all the time. This is what he means.

"Did the cat bite your tongue, you little daughter of a bitch?" he snarls again. I cry. I don't like being called a daughter of a bitch. When he does so, I suffer, and tears are proof of my feeling.

However, he couldn't care less as he hits me with my belt. I try to shield myself, but, when I do, he hits me harder. Crying also makes the beating up harder. When he's done, my eyes have run out of tears and I'm bleeding, whereas he leaves laughing loud but without refraining from glaring at me.

I want to die. I really want to die. I can't believe he did this to me. I can't believe I haven't stood up to him yet at the age of fourteen. Will this situation ever change?

I know this will get me in serious trouble with my parents, but I can't help thinking of calling the cops on Dad. It's not the first time he's beaten me up with no mercy; moreover, he's done so with my mom lately. My other sisters must be his protegées, though. It doesn't seem as he's done anything to them, especially recently.

By the way, I decide to do some research and find the social services' number, hoping to find an answer for all the bad things I've gone through since I was even born.

Then, I call it. I confess everything I know, I let go of my anxiety and all the overbearing pressure I'm cracking under and talk in a calm manner. I've never felt this way before. It seems like I've been living under a huge dome of negativity ever since. I even end up confessing that the man my sisters and I were taught to call "Dad" is none other than a stepfather, a cruel man Mom married because he couldn't see through his façade, under which a mean man with little to no understanding is concealed.

However, the person who's talking to me needs to know about the rest of the family, as well. Though, I can't have Dad come here, he would deny everything, accuse me of lying and beat me up to death.

Luckily for me, Casie is passing by. She notices I'm on the phone and gives me a glare, like I'm not supposed to seek for help and have to suffer forever instead. 'I can't believe she wants me dead. If this is what she wants, then she and Dad would make perfect partners in crime.'

Luckily for me, it doesn't seem as she has such mean intentions. But when she asks me to hand her my phone to find out, to her growing horror, that I've just told the social workers all the truth, I'm more than scared.

"Are you realizing what you've just done?" she reprimands me, like I'm kind of destroying my family with my supposed selfishness. In other words, she's accusing me of lying.

However, it doesn't seem as she wants to actually reprimand me. She is more worried than me: in fact, she wants to confess something. She picks the phone and talks. She introduces herself calmly at first, then, when it's time to tell the real truth, she cries abruptly.

What I learn is probably the most absurd, as well as terrible, thing I've ever heard in this house. Casie has been abused for a long time. "Dad", obviously, didn't let her tell anyone, but, now, what's done is done. As soon as the others confess what he did to them, he'll pay the consequences of his actions.