The Help~(Completed♡)

Subtly Suicide

Oliver's P.O.V.

Is dad mad?

I sighed tiredly, clicking on Justin's messages,

Yeah. Just keep your distance for the day. It's alright.

Okay.

I sighed, getting out of bed as someone slammed cabinet doors in the kitchen. Ophelia and I went into the kitchen as the twins ran in, Elaina tugging on dads shirt,

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

"What Elaina!?", he snapped.

"Can we go to the park?"

"Not today."

"Why not?", she whined.

"Because I said so!" Dad was never a 'because I said so' kind of person. He always told us if you couldn't find a reason, you need a different answer.

"C'mon guys. Let's give dad some space.", Ophelia said, leading the twins out, "He's in a bad mood and we make it worse, okay?", she said leading them out.

"Ophelia.", dad growled as the twins left. She turned back around,

"Y-Yeah?"

"Don't tell them that shit. I don't give a shit what you think about me but don't negatively influence your fucking siblings."

"Okay. I-I'm sorry."

"Yeah. I'm sure you fucking are." He sighed, "Room. Now."

"Daddy I-"

"Now!" She jumped but bolted down the hall as he followed. I sighed, following them both and standing outside the door. I waited until dad had taken his belt to Ophelia thirty times, then stormed out of the room to leave her to cry. I quickly walked in, sitting on her bed and holding her balled up body,

"It's okay. You're okay." I held her for about ten minutes while she cried before she'd suddenly stopped and sat up,

"I'm gonna go shower."

"Phili.", I said softly.

"I'm fine. I just-I just need to relax." I sighed a little but let her go into her bathroom. I went to the kitchen where dad sat at the table,

"I know today is hard for you.", I said softly, "But taking it out on us helps no one."

"I'm stressed Oliver."

"And we aren't?" I sighed, "Can I be honest?"

"Always want you to be.", he sighed.

"I really thought that you'd be overly cautious and on edge when we were seventeen. That's how old Mike was. But you're not. You-You've actually been so hard on us lately I'm shocked one of us hasn't tried. I know I've thought of it. And Justin has too. You know that though. Ophelia's getting worse and you're just getting meaner with her."

"She-She's thought of it?"

"Yeah. About twenty minutes ago when you fucking beat her and then left her to cry. I'm tired of you killing my sister. Yeah, you go way harder on me with sports and classes and grades but you push her into the mom slot and then tell her she's doing it wrong all the time. She does everything she can to protect the others and make them realize what an incredible person you are. I remember every single time you got angry when we were kids. Yeah, it might only be a handful of times, but I remember every one of them. The little ones won't. Because the second you're upset, one of us is distracting them. I would give anything to protect Ophelia like she does for the others. I know mom is sick. We all know that. But that doesn't mean Ophelia is our mom now. It doesn't mean it's her responsibility. We love you and we know today is so hard for you and I'm sorry, but get over it. I feel like we have to parent everyone in this house and that's fine sometimes but not as much as it's been happening lately. I really wish we could have met Mike, but I need my kids to have the option to meet their aunt." He hesitated before getting up and hugging me tightly,

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry kid. You're right." Justin came in, holding Jade in his arm and a knife in his other hand. "Why do you have that?", dad asked quickly. He staggered back,

"M-Mom had it-it."

"Good job Jussy.", I said softly. Dad nodded, going over and hugging him,  being careful of Jade,

"Thank you. I'm sorry I've been acting like this. I love you so much."

"I love you too." He walked back to Ophelia's room as I followed,

"Baby, will you come out here?", he called softly. The door opened quickly as she stood in shorts and a tank top. She was skin and bones. She always wore baggy clothes. "I'm so sorry. I overreacted and was immature and I'm sorry. You were trying to protect your siblings and I freaked out to try and distract myself." She looked up at him,

"I'd let you practically kill me to make you feel better. Especially today. I'd do anything to help you daddy." She paused, "Did-Did hitting you make me feel better?", she asked cautiously. Both of us held our breath.

"No.", dad didn't miss a beat, "Absolutely not. Never. And I'm sorry. I-I'd never take out my anger on you. I know it seems like I did though and I'm so sorry." He looked down at her arm, where a big handprint bruise stood, "Who the hell did that to you?"

"Daddy... you did..." His posture fell,

"I-I did?", his voice cracked.

"I-I think. I don't know for sure. I-I bruise really easy daddy."

"It's because you're skin and bone baby.", he said softly, "You-You stopped eating again, didn't you?"

"I... sometimes I don't have time."

"Then make time Ophelia.", he said sternly, "This isn't okay. I'm gonna call Dr. Beck tomorrow."

"Dad-"

"You need help sweets. I'm sorry. You're seventeen. You're still under my roof, my authority, and my parenting. And you can only get out of one, maybe two of those things. It's my job to make sure you're healthy in every way and you're not. In any way  that I can see. And I have to fix that."

"But I'm fine. You're overreacting.", she said firmly.

"No he's not Ophelia! Have you looked at yourself?", I said softly, "I'm sorry because you're my sister and I love you but you're dying. You need help."

"And it's not an option."

"Dr. Beck will say you're overreacting too. I know it."

Ophelia's P.O.V.

"You need to go to in-home living. Like, now.", Dr. Beck said.

"W-What?", I laughed, "You're joking, right?"

"Absolutely not. I'm gonna talk to your dad tonight-"

"No! No you're not-"

"Ophelia it was not a choice. You're seventeen. You're dad told me to do what's best for you, even if you fucking hate me or him or whatever and that's my job so that's what I'm doing. Go ahead. Cry, yell, whatever. You're going and that's the end of it." I clenched my jaw, taking deep breaths as I tried to stay calm. He got up and sat next to me on the couch, "Hey, stop. You know you can't just bottle all that shit up. Let it out." Fuck I hate him sometimes.

"I-I-I don't w-wanna.", I sobbed, "I'm-I'm fine. I'm g-gonna be f-fine!"

"You are going to be fine. You're absolutely right. But you have to get help to do that. You need help. But you won't be able to get better until you accept that you need some fucking help kiddo. I know you're scared and you don't want to do this but you have to. And you're not alone. I'm on your side. So is your family. You have a way better support system than most of my kids."

"I-I-I know. So w-why am I li-like this?"

"Sweetheart, it's a disorder. It's not something that has specific reasons or anything to feel guilty about. No one is on trial here."

"I don't wanna be alone with new people.", I sniffled.

"There's only six of you. Four boys, one girl and now you. And Stella is going to love having another girl around. And we have a whole staff of people who are there to help. And I'll be there, so it won't be completely new people. Okay? You can still come talk to me anytime when things get overwhelming. It's gonna be okay."

"Promise?"

"I promise."