Little Lady

Chapter Six

Little Lady

Chapter Six

Her vision was blurring as her body swerved from side to side. The hit was so hard she couldn't feel the pain or the burning. She felt empty, she liked that. She looked up at the man who was supposed to protect her, treat her as his own, and love her. She was mistaken, he was nothing but crude. He kicked her hard in the stomach and she rolled in a tighter ball hugging her knees as she lay sideways. A cry made its way and escaped her mouth. As much as she wished she could have no reaction and be stronger she couldn’t help but show the pain in the blows he hit at her. As hard as he tried nothing changed the fact that she was a fifteen year old girl who had learned this as life for three years now.

"Clean up this mess slut." He slurred his voice making her flinch as he limped to his bedroom.

Her poor excuse of a brother was probably locked in his room shooting up the last drops of stuff he bought last night. She had taken notice in his bruised arms and tried to tell him it wasn't the answer. She hadn't even turned to that at this point. He had pointed out that he got jumped and there were the bruises but she knew the difference. Her bruises seemed to look as if pain had caused them, battle scars, while his looked chosen in certain places, pathetic. She hadn’t pointed it out again after he slapped her saying how it was their little secret. It was his little secret, just his; Evelyn wanted nothing to do with him, he, like the rest of her family, was crazy, animals.

She was thrown in the struggle while he chose it for both of them.

Stomping footsteps echoed through the hall in rhythm with her off steady heart. Maybe the man was back for one more hit, just one more for the night. Evelyn wasn’t sure she could take just one more hit, she was beat and bruised like a punching bag though she was ready to snap off of the metal chain. Then she heard heavy breathing smacking into the wall, some more footsteps and a click of the tongue.

"Evelyn." Chasin her brother slurred with a chuckle.

So he had been smoking and drinking, must have run out of the heroin.

He touched her neck with his finger and she flinched pushing his hands away. What was his deal? He had never touched her. Sure he had hit her but never had he been gentle to help her but this didn’t seem like help but another one of his sick games. What was he thinking? She was his little ugly sister. Then she remembered he was just like that man, a sick-o, plain ol’ crazy.  

"You’re so...pretty." He whispered looking at her bruised abused body, leaning into kiss her she jerked back crawling away, her bones aching.

Not now, not ever. He couldn’t get her, even with her low pride, messed up dignity; she couldn’t ever live with herself; he was disgusting.

"Stop." She croaked as he walked over his eyes angry now.

He slapped her leaving her with a stinging cheek. "What's wrong slut? I'm good enough."

"Leave me alone Chasin."

The sick boy screamed. "Fuck yourself! I try to help you and you’re not even grateful for it!"

He went for a kick and then...

Evelyn snapped awake with sweat dripping down her face as she tried to catch her breath. It was all so real. She found herself tangled in the white sheets and shivered at the thought. The walls felt as if they were closing in on her. She rolled out of her bed and opened her window. A slight breeze came in and she sighed.

She could run away from them but the dreams were inescapable. She was like a child taping leaves back to a tree during autumn though she knew it would die. Hope was a good thing but it made you weak and let down. She couldn’t handle another feeling of disappointment, especially from herself. Other people could disappoint her –she couldn’t change that- but she had some control in herself. She wouldn’t ruin that for some dumb hope.