The Secrets We Carry

Chapter Four | Brave and Special

Adam

My heart can't help but drop as I watch Liv walk out of my room.
Her tear streaked face etched into my brain.

Getting up a sharp pain runs through my ribs and I inhale quickly. I walk over to my mirror and examine the new damage.

The once fading bruising on my ribs is now revived, turning dark once again.
My cheek and jawline has already started to puff, the red will soon be replaced with violet.
Yup, definitely missing school. Sighing I reluctantly turn around to look at my back.
Gritting my teeth as the skin stretches and moves, aggravating my back.
Red stripes mark up my back, with fresh cuts.
I pull my eyes away after a moment not wanting to see it any longer.

Anger flushes through me as the thought of fighting back rises to the frontal lobe.
It's quickly replaced by shame and fear.
I know I'm not strong enough, it would only further piss him off.
Not to mention he would likely kick me out if I did.
Then who will make sure he doesn't turn his rage on Liv?

When mom first left he began to hit Liv too, his anger peaked, but I would always try and divert his attention.
Just like I had when my mother was here.
Until one day I snapped, attacking him at full force, or the full force of a 12 year old.
I yelled as my fist pounded on his body, that she was not to be touched again.

I paid a price that day, but it seemed to have work as he began leaving her alone.
In my eyes what I went through was a win, if it meant she was safe.

I sit back down on my bed and look at the bowl of food, my stomach grumbles in protest but I ignore it.
Instead grabbing my laptop from my desk and bringing it with me to bed.

I sit up so I don't put any pressure on my back and get to work on my homework.

I know I need to keep up with school work despite my home life. The need to do something with my life and get Liv and I away from him propelling me.

Just over an hour and I had finished my homework.
Putting my laptop back on my desk, I debate letting Josh know that I won't be at school.
I don't want to message him, knowing it will only add more fuel to the fire of hatred he feels towards my dad.
But the need for him to get my school work so I don't fall behind is greater than the need to protect my dad from looking any worse in Josh's eyes.
I decide to message him in the morning, not wanting to go through it all with him tonight.

Trying to find a comfortable position to lay in was a challenge.
My back felt stripped and raw. My sides were beaten and bruised.
There was a compromise to be made.
I turn on my side putting a pillow between myself and her bed trying to relieve some of the pressure off my body.
Gritting my teeth I move myself into position.
Definitely a less than restful sleep ahead.

My mind starts to play out a fantasy of me packing my things and leaving in the night.
Not having to deal with my father any longer. But guilt quickly replaces the thought. Closely followed by anger as the realization that my mother did just that.

Like a movie the images being to play out through my hippocampus.

The door slowly creaked open. Even in the darkness he could make out the small silhouette of his mother.
Relief flooded his small battered body, knowing it wasn't him.

She came over to his bed and turned on the lamp on the side table as her tiny frame sat down beside him.
Pushing himself up he held bit his lip to not make a sound as his shoulder screamed in protest at the movement.

His mother didn't miss the pain in his eyes as he looked up at her.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart." She brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Do you want an ice pack?"