The Truth of the Able

IV

Ⅳ •

[trigger warning: brief non-con]
[minor smut warning]

The walk to his house was excruciatingly painful. He wasn't injured, but he knew he would be once he stepped through the door. His shoulders sagged in defeat once he reached the door. He knew he had no other choice, nowhere else to go.

Ezra fiddled with the bottom lock, testing to see if the door was unlocked. He knew that if it was, his parents were home. His heart dropped to his stomach when the door immediately opened, a stank smell invading his nostrils as soon as he walked through the threshold. He tiptoed passed the living room and kitchen, heading straight to his room in the very corner of the house. It definitely wasn't a big house, containing only one story and three bedrooms. It had a tiny kitchen that barely fit two people, let alone four. The living room was the biggest room of the whole house, yet it barely had furniture in it. It held one three seat couch, a coffee table, a tiny TV on top of a TV stand, and his passed out mom with a tie around her forearm and needles dangerously close to her face, sprawled out on the carpet.

Ezra shut his bedroom door and made sure to lock it, tossing his backpack on the floor and shoving the shoes off his feet. He headed towards the bathroom but completely walked past the sink and small shower, straight to the door on the other side. He opened the door and peered inside his sisters' bedroom, smiling as they looked up from their books. His youngest sister, Crystal, smiled happily at the sight of her big brother. She bounded towards him, wrapping her small arms tightly around his leg, leaning her chin on his thigh and looking up with a large smile plastered on her face.

"Hi, brubby!" the toddler smiled sweetly, jumping up and down excitedly.

"Hi, baby." he smiled back, pinching her cheeks. She giggled, swatting his hands away and running back to the bottom bunk of her and his other sisters bed. "Hey, Becca." she looked up from her phone, tugging one ear bud out of her ear and looking at him expectantly.

"What?" she asked him to repeat himself, gesturing to her earbuds.

"I said hey." he rolled his eyes, leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom.

"Oh." she responded shortly, shoving her earbud right back in her ear.

"Becky mean." Crystal pouted, tugging on Ezra's jacket and pointing at her big sister. Ezra picked the toddler up, her legs instinctively wrapping around the side of his waist.

"Becky's not mean, Ezra's a fag." Rebecca shot back, talking in a sweet baby voice, contrary to her words.

"Will you stop saying that in front of her?" Ezra sighed quietly, leaning his baby sisters head on his shoulder to cover her ears.

"Oh, relax, queen. She's a baby, she won't remembe–,"

"Faggy!" she hollered excitedly, clapping her hands in Ezra's ear. Ezra placed her back on the floor, kneeling to her height.

"Cristy, that's not a nice word, okay? If someone says that, tell them they're being meanies and shouldn't say it anymore." Ezra lectured, smiling softly at her so she knew she wasn't in trouble. Crystal nodded her head in response, climbing up the stairs to Rebecca's bunk.

Halfway through the stairs, she began to say, "You're being meany, Becky!" she exclaimed, almost near the top.

"Oh, shut it." Rebecca snapped, kicking her feet down and connecting with Crystal's stomach. Crystal's hands slipped off the ladder, her feet following as she tumbled. Ezra's heart beat wildly as he watched his baby sister fall.

As she fell, Ezra slid on his knees and caught her in his arms, her head dangerously close to the hardwood floor. He let out a sigh of relief as she hugged him tightly, crying in his chest. He stood on his feet, glaring angrily at his stupid sister. "What the fuck was that?" He yelled, gesturing towards the crying toddler. Rebecca was on her knees leaning over the railing of the bunk, a startled look on her face. Once she realized Ezra was looking, her expression changed to one of passiveness. "She could have hit her head! She's fucking two you dumb fuck!" Ezra was surprised at the language that came out of his mouth. He was never one to curse or yell, especially not at his family.