Darling, You'll Be Okay.

Chapter 1//

Krissy's POV //

"No! No please! NO I WON'T DO IT AGAIN I'M SORRY! PLEASE! STOP! PLEASE! I'M SORRY PLEASE STOP!" I woke to the sound of my little brother, Vic, screaming and sobbing. Shit. I thought to myself. Not again. I scrambled off of my bed, which I had accidentally fallen asleep on, and sprinted to Vic's room. I entered his room, panicked. I searched frantically. Shit where is he. I ran to the living room and froze momentarily at the sight. The dining room table was flipped and one of the legs broken off, the leg from the table was in the sink along with the broken dirty dishes. Our dad was standing over Vic, a deadly look on his face. He was punching him, kicking him, anything to hurt him. I snapped out of my frozeness as soon as my dad grabbed the closest thing next to him; in this case a vase, and raised it above his head. Blood, bruise, and tear covered Vic realized what our father was about to do and curled into a ball, arms covering his head, fear and panic clouded his one visible chocolate brown eye just before it squinted shut. I jumped over the couch and lay myself over Vic protectively, one elbow by the back of his head, the other in front of the arms that covered his face. One of my knees rested in front of his shins and the other right behind his lower back. The vase was shattered against my back. I arched my body and screamed out in pain. I could feel the glass shards pierce my back and the blood running down my back and sides.

"Krissy, get out of the way. HE needs to be punished," our dad said putting emphasis on 'he' and gesturing to Vic with a look of anger and disgust. Our dad hates Vic because our mother died in a car crash with him three years ago so now he makes any, and I mean ANY excuse to hurt Vic.

"No dad. I'm NOT moving. Vic doesn't deserve this," I replied my vision blurring from the tears brimming my eyes. I screwed my eyes shut. Shit don't cry. Don't cry. You have to be strong for Vic I thought to my self. The tears retreated back to my tear ducts and I slowly opened my eyes. Vic turned his head to look at me, an apologetic yet thankful look covered his hair, blood, sweat, bruise, cut, and tear stained face.

"I'm sorry" he mouthed.

I nodded in return and gave him an apologetic look.

"Fine. You'll take his punishment then," and with that my dad kicked the side of my ribs. I screamed out in pain, nearly collapsing on top of Vic. I managed to find the strength to hold myself up and not hurt Vic anymore then he already was. I looked down at Vic and he was covering his ears and closing his eyes, obviously trying to block out everything. I braced myself for another kick, which was delivered seconds later to my thigh. I cringed and moaned. There was a bruise there from a few days ago...you could say these types of beatings weren't uncommon at our house.

"I fucking hate you," my dad mumbled, trying to kick Vic from underneath me but, failing miserably when he kicked my stomach. I whimpered and cringed again. He beat me for the next 40 miserable fucking minutes, I, trying my best to not cry or damage Vic any further.

*Ring*

"FUCK!" my dad screamed, storming off to his room to silence the ringing and answer whoever the fuck called.

*Ring*

I scrambled up, doing my best to ignore the pain and help Vic stand. He breathed in a sharp breath and sobbed. He hastily sat down on the couch. Pointing to his ankle, "I-I c-can't walk," he squeaked, sheer fear clouding his beaten face, "it h-hurts too b-b-bad!" he sobbed. I slung his arm over my shoulder and helped him stand once again being sure not to put Vic's hurt ankle under any weight. We hurried as fast as possible to my room, which, with Vic unable to walk, wasn't very fast.

*Ri-

"FUCK! WHO THE FUCK IS IT?!" my dad screamed from his room, answering the phone.

As soon as we got to my room and I sat Vic down on the bed, I sprinted to the kitchen and got an ice pack from the freezer for Vic and then retreated to the bathroom, which conveniently was on the way to my room, and retrieved the first aid kit from under the bathroom sink. I heard my father slam his door shut and talk to whoever was on the phone...probably one of his many girlfriends or maybe one of his bar friends.

"C-cookie Mons-ster?" I heard Vic sob softy. A small, sad smile formed on my lips at his use of my child hood nickname. I always use to eat the last cookie when mom bought them.

"Yea, Bugs Bunny?" I whispered back, swiftly walking to my room to put the things down and check up on Vic. When we were little, he was energetic like a bunny and ate bugs a lot.

"C-can we...c-call Mike and-d Aunt-ty Crystal and hav-ve th-them c-c-come and get u-us...?" Vic stuttered. Mike is our younger brother who lives with our aunt in San Francisco. Our dad kicked him out when he was 12 after he got expelled for getting in a fight at school. That was 3 years ago. The same day of the crash...

I locked the door and turned to look at Vic. I sighed deeply, "I don't know Bugs..." I trailed off. Our aunt hates Vic and I because we look like our mom (Mike got lucky and looks like our grandfather, on our mom's side, of course) and our aunt hates our mom because as a child, our mom was the 'better' child, always winning at everything, kind to everyone, good grades, she was beautiful too, hell, if she was my sister I'd be jealous.

"I-I know b-but, we'll hav-ve M-mike," Vic said and then inhaled a deep, shaky breath signaling I hurt him. I'm trying to get his shoe and sock off and his ankle was sprained at the very least.

"Shit sorry..." I said, not answering his question. And for good reason too, we hadn't seen Mike in 6 months, and when we did last time, he was bitter towards Vic and I, saying he hated us and it was our fault he got kicked out and shit like that.

I finally got the stubborn as fuck shoe and even more stubborn sock off and carefully placed the ice pack on his ankle. I wrapped the gauze around it and tucked the end behind the ice pack. "There, now stay. Please." I told the gauze and ice pack.

Vic chuckled "Th-thanks Kriss-sy," he said, I nodded in response and then he continued "b-but, if w-we do, we wil-l h-have Mike...r-right?"

"I guess so but, the mean things Aunt Crystal will say to us, I don't know if I'll be able to control my anger," I told Vic. I know this seems selfish but, she says anything to hurt someone. And knowing Vic, he would rather take physical abuse then verbal abuse. Words get to him a lot worse then punches and kicks ever could and ever will. And I know I lied to Vic about Mike, but, he doesn't know that Mike said thse things, Mike said them to me while Vic was sleeping and I sure as hell don't plan on telling Vic anytime soon. It would break his heart to hear that the little brother that he loves so dearly and almost never gets to see, hates him.

"Okay..." he replied in a sad tone. I looked up at him from my spot on the floor and sighed deeply. I know how much he hates it here and how much he hates what has happened here and how much he hates our dad but, I can't let anyone else hurt him. I have to take care of him. No matter what happens.

"Maybe we could go over to Jaime's for a few days?" I asked cautiously.

"Really?" Vic asked excitedly, a newly found hope filled his voice and his chocolate brown eyes brightened a little bit.

"Yea but, first we have to get each other cleaned up. This glass in my back is-" I choked back a sob. Thinking about the pain made it worse and I suddenly felt as though all the glass shards were reentering my back.

"OH! Shit Cookie Monster! I'm so sorry! Here lay on your stomach. This is gonna hurt."

A/N:

Please excuse this if its crappy :'C this is my first book so plzzzzzz don't hate me if it's horrible. I'll update as soon as I can but, my birthday is in 2 days (woot woot \[^•^]/) and I got a lot of stuff going on