62 | panic room

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| meliorism |
chapter sixty-two

| meliorism |chapter sixty-two

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It was a terrifying thought, knowing your own family was destined to fall.

After learning the inevitable truth, it was only logical to try and do something to prevent it, or at least make it better. You could try anything in your power to save them, to protect them from harm and any danger that may come. But saving was not an easy task, especially for the ones that were not meant to be saved.

There were moments where they could snap, releasing all the power inside. There were moments where doubt infiltrated the mind and caused a million thoughts to run through their head. There were days where the frustration was combined with anger, and the consequences of the actions are so clouded, you can't see them until it's too late.

The moment the first yell was let out, all the fragile and contained tries were evaporated and replaced with rage.

In the Bekker house, the only thing you could hear was the loud argument between the two parents. Glasses and plates were broken, furniture was kicked, tears were shed and anger was released.

    At the top of the stairs, not far from the heated argument of the parents, were two young children. The boy was hugging his little sister, shielding her ears from the blaring screams. He pulled her close, trying to calm her as the tears were formed in his eyes. It was a common occurrence in the household, but that day seemed to be the worst of them all.

    After months of being away, their mother had returned. At first they thought she was coming back for good, to become a family once again, yet, when they saw the pregnant belly she was carrying, it all came crashing down.

    Naturally, it was followed by an argument after ordering the two to go upstairs. It had been going on for hours to no end; for minutes, the two would stay silent, hurting in their own heads, then they would talk and it escalated to yelling.

    The two siblings hugged each other, trying to block the sound of the raging energy coming from their parents. But it wasn't as easy as it seemed, because no matter how many times you try and have gone over it, something always tended to go wrong.

    The little girl had little to no knowledge about what their fight was about, but she didn't like it. Everything was starting to buzz inside her head, an attempt to block out the words being exchanged, but she couldn't help but be overwhelmed.

    Her eyes were closed tightly as her brother had his hands on her ears. She had been crying and now was trying to calm her breathing, but it was getting difficult each second. There was something inside her that was shaking, itching to get out as a form of protection. But she contained it, digging her nails into her palms to focus on the pain instead of the consuming feelings she was having.

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