Caught

Chapter 2

The picture above is Shilo.
~ SHAYS P.O.V ~
I tried my very best to slip through the door without making any noise, but of course, I tripped. And when I fell, I made a loud noise on the floor, and I cursed under my breath.

I laid there for awhile, and closed my eyes tightly as I heard footsteps coming down the stairs just steps ahead of me. I slowly opened them, finding a wide-eyed Peter staring down at me.

"Shay! Are you alright? Why'd you stay out so late this time?" He whisper-yelled towards me, and stretched out his hand to help me up.

I bit my bottom lip softly. Did I really want to tell my older brother I was with a guy? I took a deep breath, and grabbed his hand to get myself up. "I was out by the old railway with some friends."

Peter looked slightly unsure at my answer, and eyed me suspiciously. "Until 9 at night? Shay, anything you want to talk to me about?"

I shook my head, and suddenly remembered why he was whispering. I wasn't. Shit. "Nope, not in particular. Is dad home yet?"

Peter shook his head, and I sighed in relief. Thank lord for a little while I was okay. Maybe I'd just go up into my room and lock the door or something.

Here's the thing: my father is an alcoholic. He doesn't care nor notice what he does when he's drunk; or not drunk. And, he finds pleasure in beating me and my brother. So yes, me being the little sister, Peter does try his very best to protect me, and he doesn't know how thankful I am for that. But, Peter can't always be the hero here. Sometimes he's not there, or I can't see him getting hit so many times in a row in efforts to keep me safe. That's why I'm never home, and Peter tries his very best not to be.

This time, it'd been a week since I'd seen Peter. He had escaped to a friends house to get away from here. Except, I couldn't exactly do that... I didn't have many friends what-so-ever. To solve that problem, I tried to be at the railway relatively late, and come home when my father was sleeping. The next morning, I'd escape through the window, and resume my daily routine.

Peter smiled warmly at me. "Go get some sleep yeah? I'll see you later." He pulled me into a hug, and I winced slightly. But, I wasn't about to pull away from the safe embrace of the person who'd taught me how to love.

"Alright. Love you Peter." I smiled as he let me from the hug, and I began to walk up the stairs. I knew why he told me to go get some sleep, even though he knows I wouldn't. He didn't want me out there when our father arrived home.

When I was about to shut my door, I heard the front door slam shut. I bit my lip, and the yelling of my drunken father and Peter began. A few tears slipped from my eyes, but I knew why I was crying. I cried for Peter because he didn't get to.

I locked my door, and walked into my bathroom. I sighed as I looked at myself in the mirror. Just by staring at myself for not even a minute, I saw nothing that would make me stand out to Shilo. I only saw imperfections.
I had slight bags under my eyes from my endless number of sleepless nights. I was well-past pale, from always being away from the sun. My light brown hair sat like a pile of knots on top of my head. My hazel eyes looked dull and lifeless. If I turned to either side, I had that pudge that sticks out from my stomach. If I sucked in, I looked like I was just ribs and that's it. That's when I grew mad at myself.

I should be confident enough to look in the mirror and smile; but I couldn't. I should be allowed to be happy with how I looked; but I wasn't. I should be happy with my weight and my facial features; upset would be an understatement for describing my attitude towards that.

I needed to break something; the anger was too much. I looked at the mirror again, and punched it. I brought my now bleeding fist close to me, lightly wrapping it with my shirt. That wasn't the first time I've made a stupid decision.