••Ray••
Y/N screamed and cried, while I just stood there. Staring. I'm her brother. But, I'm only 12. I was too traumatized to help my 9-year-old sister from getting raped. Mt crack addicted father stood there, too, smiling up a storm. I look at him, pleading with my eyes for him to help her. He just sat there and smiled. While this random man stuck his manhood in my sister's sacred place. After the man had ejected his load, he gave my father a bag of the white substance I know all too well. Cocaine. My mother did it, and now, so is my father. My mother died from suicide. She hung herself. Right in front of Y/N. So, I'm not the only one with a bad memory that replays. The man left, and my father went in his room to be the crack head he already was. I helped my sister up, but she pushed me away and helped herself up.
