Glitter Glue

B...R...O...K...E...N

His wide blue eyes peered over the bed in terror as I endured yet another attack. He had just been playing around when he dropped a plate. Just one plate and the beautiful peace ended once again. Mom immediately comes towards Thomas with her one finger pointed cruelly to his frightened self, but as always just like she hates more than anything I get in the way.

I can't stand Mom to let it out on my little brother, especially when he was so innocent in what he is doing. It starts only with that

"he didn't mean to drop the plate. "

When I speak up she turns angrily! Her frail, worn face turns bright red and somehow... I just take it. I take the curses and name calling and the insults and occasional backhands I'm rewarded with when I get the courage to reply.

Holding back tears, I kneel down beside my four year old companion and assure him that everything is fine. It's not fine... trust me, I know quite well that it's not fine... but he needs to know hope.

Thomas never knew Daddy. I was only a little older than Thomas when Mom sent him away. Daddy loved me and played with me and he always kept Mom calm when he joked," Aww, come on Ren! Ain't you ever broke perfec' before?" Mom just growled at him, but I think she wanted to laugh to... she was just stubborn.

Well, Thomas needs someone like Daddy, so I'm going to try and help. He started preschool last year. There are always little pictures or scribbly drawn letters waiting for me when I come home from my school. He's tried to give one to Mom before but she burned it and yelled at him for getting in the way and then she yelled at me for speaking up again. He had only been trying to be nice. I wish everyone could just go back to when they were innocent and there was a simple careless answer to any possible question you could ask... Thomas reminds me and I can't get enough.

____________

I've been writing a journal in the time that Thomas isn't talking to me about everything that there is possibly to talk about. I haven't gotten very far... only a few pages but it gives me a warm tingly sensation when I write it. I write from the fact that a bug flew up my nose after lunch to the deepest, darkest parts of my mind. There's freedom and it brings me closer to going back to when life was easy.

Yesterday I decided to try writing and listening to Thomas at the same time! All of the sudden he stopped talking mid sentence and stared at my scribbly handwriting.

" b...r......o......k...e...n" he paused and looked at me," sister, why does that say broken? Did Mommy hit you to hard last time?"

I laughed" well, since when did you know how to read?"

" I been learnin' at school" he boasted," I know all the sounds the letters make and sometimes they sound right to me... why does it say broken?"

How do you tell a four year old what it's like to be broken without breaking them?

I began nervously," Sometimes, people get sad," I guessed that was a start," people say that their heart is broken"

" Did your heart break?" He questioned me with an adorable, concerned look," I think Mommy is broke too!"

" Maybe," I faked a smile.

He seemed to think for a moment then he scurried off to do who knows what. I grinned towards him. Everyone needs a cheerful , little boy to cheer them up.