Protecting Him✔️

Chapter Two

——————April 13, 2006———————-
Age 14
Beaver, Ohio
3:04 AM
SKYLAR

The stars on my ceiling glowed in the dark of my room. I always thought of stars as dead people, that once you die your soul finds its place within the sky. Allowing loved ones to admire the beauty of death. Death for me was different from other's views, some saw it as a way of pain, and I see it as a way to escape.

My attention drifts to the headlights pulling into the drive, Aunt Carie. Whenever she comes over it always ends with her leaving with cuts and bruises on her. She's tried to get me away from him but always leaves empty-handed. There was a time I dreamed she could get me out. The reality of the situation is I'll never leave. I'm stuck in the 'group' til the day I die.

A loud crash comes from downstairs, I have to intervene before she gets herself killed or worse. Quietly I open the door, I can't make out what they're saying but whatever it is it's not good. Standing on the bottom step I can see Dan, his hand up ready to throw the beer bottle at her, before he gets the chance to I rush into the room as it flies from his hands. I can take the pain, block the thought of it out to the point I don't feel it, I won't let him hurt her. He looks at me with disgust evident in his eyes, seeing that I shielded her.

"Go to your fucking room!" He stomps up to me and spits in my face.

"Not a chance," I know I'll pay for it later, but I won't let her get hurt even if I die trying to keep her safe. I guess as he puts his hand on my throat and suspends me in the air. I claw at his hands, but he won't let me go. My vision begins to blur in black dots begin to form.

"Listen here slut, I own you got it. So when I say something you listen! Do you unders-"he's cut off as Aunt Carie pushes him. Due to the multiple drinks he's had tonight, he stumbles releasing his hold around my neck. I breathe in fresh air as I crash down onto the hardwood flooring.

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER LIKE THAT!" Aunt Carie is a small 5-foot woman but packs a lot of heat. She has dark coffee-colored hair like my mom, emerald eyes that turn a dark azure during summertime, blue wishes along her cheeks, and a petite button nose. She stands over my drunken 'stepfather' as he gives her a glare that could kill her.

Before I even realize what's happening, Dan has a gun in his hand and is pointing it at her. The gun hurls a loud descending shot, my body quivers as the bullet goes into her chest. Her body drops to the floor as blood seeps into the beige carpet. Her head slowly turns to me as she mouths the word run.

But I don't run, I don't do anything except watch her. Even when I'm hauled down to the basement, my eyes never leave her. The sound of chains moving brings me back to reality. Dan ties the chains around my arms and legs, I don't fight, it's ineffective at this point.

"I'll deal with you later," Dan says as he closes the door, leaving me stuck in the dark. A shiver runs through me as I press my back against the cold concrete wall. If I listen closely I can hear him shuffling, the sound of him relocating her body. I know I should be crying because she's dead, but no tears fall. To be honest I don't remember the last time I cried. I've become accustomed to his abuse and what he does. To say I was surprised he killed someone would be a lie. This isn't the first time he's killed someone in front of me and I know it won't be the last.

I lay my body down on the ground, tonight this is where I sleep, well not sleep, more likely this is where I lay with my demons.

————————7:00 am————————

I feel someone shaking my shoulder, slowly i open my eyes. I see Brett standing in front of me.

"Hey Skylar," he says. Brett is probably the only one in Dan's group who cares for me, but it's only because of what he gets.

Before Dan lost his shit, Brett was like a relative to me. But as puberty hit and Dan didn't care about me anymore, Brett looked at me the way an older man shouldn't. Brett wasn't 50, but he was well in his thirties while I am only 14. At age 11 Dan thought it would be a good idea if I knew how to meet a man's necessities. He didn't give me an alternative, he would sit on a chair in the corner of Brett's room and watch us. The first couple of times it happened I would cry until Dan put tape over my mouth as I lay under Brett, now I just lay there not caring. Heck, sometimes I'll just think of all the things that occurred at school.

At school I used to be the person who was admired and accepted, now I'm just another kid in the hallways who gets bullied by the popular kids. The sad part is that most of the kids who bully me used to be my friends. I remember the day Dan told me to drop my friends, I knew it was because he thought I would tell them what goes on at home. He had someone follow me to school and watch me as I told my friends we couldn't hang out anymore. I couldn't give them an explanation and because of that things started getting ugly.

Believe it or not, Dan wasn't always like this. But when she died and they escaped, he lost it. He started killing, drinking, and hitting me.

"Hurry up and get ready, he's passed out right now," Brett tells me as he unchains me. He gives me a sad smile as he sees the marks on my wrists. I quickly rushed out of the room resisting the cry that wanted to leave my lips as my ribs hurt. I skip all the steps that creek and go into the attic also known as my room.

Looking in the mirror I see the fingerprints left by Dan on my throat, blood that splattered on my face, and the same scar that stretches from my eyebrow to the corner of my lips. I clear the blood and then use some old foundation to cover up the fingerprints, using a wipe I clean the blood off. Grabbing grey sweats and a black sweater, I throw on my beat-up shoes and grab my backpack. I put my hair into a ponytail as I make my way downstairs. Without saying goodbye to Brett I make my way out of the house with my skateboard in hand. The blood-stained carpet doesn't go unnoticed from my vision as I rush out.

The ride to school wasn't long, but it did take a little longer with the weather being cloudy and rainy. Not that I mind, today is my favorite type of weather. Something about the rain falling on me as a ride to school just feels peaceful like it's the last peaceful moment I'll get. Crossing the road I'm met with the 'Beaver Highschool' sign.