A dream hidden behind a sweat shirt

Chapter fifty seven

*timothys prospective*

I wasn't lying. I had went tumbling down the stairs. Except I did not fall. I was pulled. But I thought that it wouldn't matter she didn't know what went on in my home and if she did find out then it'll be my head on a platter if my dad gets caught. I sat back in bed and covered up my emotions the best I could. I wanted to tell her the truth I really did.

But I couldn't risk it. But when she told me that she already knew I froze. How could that happen. I let my gaurd down. And now there was no going back. The police would be coming for him and he'd vanish. He'd come after me like he went after my brother.

I remembered my brother. He looked so much like my father. We were about eight. That's when my mothers cancer started. She was weak an unable to protect us anymore. He usually locked her up in a room and if we messed up we'd get beat. We lived in France at the time. His name was Taylor, my brother. Looked identical to my dad. With pale blonde hair and ghostly pale skin. The same dark almost black eyes.

Taylor became close to a girl. Told her what his daddy did to him. She told her mommy. and she told the police. They went looking for him. We had already moved. My brother knew what would happen to him. Knew he was gonna pay the price for opening his mouth. We escaped to America. Moved to Tacoma but made a pit stop on the way there. At a local pub. We waited in the car. Our drunken dad came back. Staggering to the car. Took hold of Taylor's caller of his shirt. Ripped him from the car. Best him a little to much. He died that night. My father... My daddy... The murderer.

I knew that would be me soon. He'd be my muderer. My kidnapper. My beater.

All because I let my gaurd down. Because I wasn't stealthy enough. My fault... And I needed to fix it.