Our Love Will Last! <3

I rested my head on the pillow as I watched my older brother playing his guitar and singing to block out the sound of my mom's screams. I know. Screams? Did she burn herself or something? If she did, why weren't we out there helping her?Well, the real answer is: my step father is a drunk. He'll leave in the morning. Get drunk. Come home at around 5 in the evening. Beat mom (sometimes even me and Bryce, my older brother). And then he would leave the house again and come back a few hours later and repeated this every single day.I wish either Bryce or I had the courage to call the police, but my mom wouldn't be so pleased with that. She says he's helped us in ways we wouldn't understand. Our reply always is: You're right. We don't understand. I never got the courage to tell anyone what was going on at my house. Or why I couldn't be out having fun (while my mother's going through harsh beating; I can't be out having a laugh). Or even why I can't have anyone over."Why does she put up with that ugly creep?" I stated sitting up in my bed. "I don't know. What could possibally be the reason? I mean, all he does is beat her all day...He doesn't help us at all!" Bryce said clearly annoyed with the subject I chose to talk about."Go to sleep, you need rest. If your temperature rises any higher, you'll be in the hospitall for a week." He was right. I had been sick for the past week. Going to the doctor every now and then."Well, I can't with her screaming like that!" I frowned tears threating to spill out.Bryce put his guitar down on the floor and put his arm protectively around me.