"Spark!?" I shouted and dropped to the ground beside him.
"You know, you really shouldn't have gone off with your ugly ass brat of a brother," my father said, coldly.
"Wh-what did you do to Gray?" I demanded loudly. My father only laughed and shook his head.
"But honey, don't you love surprises?" He grinned maniacally. Shit. The word ran through my head a million times in one second. Father took a step closer- and another. I reached behind me, my fingers fumbling for the spare pocketknife I kept attatched to my back belt loop.
As soon as my dad stepped within arms length, he kicked my legs out from under me. I yelped and jabbed the knife into his shin, twisting it brutally. He grunted in pain as I yanked it out of his leg and hummed it at his chest. Knife buried slightly in his chest, he stumbled backwards as I pushed him with all the strength I had left.
Spark was groggy but somewhat awake as I ushered him to his feet and away from my maniac father.
"Let's get out of here," I pushed the half-conscious boy into his car and drove us both to his house.
I dumped him on the couch after basically carrying him up two flights of stairs. Good thing you're a twig.
"Spark," I poked him over and over, "Wake your punk ass up!"
"Wh-what?" He mumbled, his eyes still closed. I pushed him until he fell off the couch.
"Okay, okay! I'm awake!" He jumped off the floor, ready to fight back. His smile fell, and I could tell he was remembering what had just happened.
"Are you alright...?"
I nodded, "I'm fine, let's get some food," I walked into the kitchen, Spark close behind.
There, on the blue tile floor, lay Grayson, in a pool of his own blood.
