Buckley's Rowdy Ranch: Cam & Jessie

Chapter One: New Beginnings,Old Wounds

~~~ They say the world will end in fire, others say ice. But what if mankind brings about the world's demise? ~~~

Jessica Maureen.

Sounds plain, right? Sound utterly normal and plain. I bet you could imagine my life, almost eighteen year old living a happy life in the city, holding a steady job as a cashier or some mundane thing like that. I’m living with a small loving family that I could always count on, no troubles or worries.

Well, my life is far from that.

Ever since the age of nine, I've been abused physically. Hard slaps across the face, with the enough brutal force for my ears to ring for hours leaving a burning sting upon the mark, punches on my shoulders that weakened my muscles to keep from hitting back, horrible, stamping kicks against my stomach to break ribs and leave these awful purple bruises all over my body.

So far, I've had three broken ribs, one for each birthday I had at home. Would you like to know what I got for Christmas? A broken arm.

You can't imagine the pain I went through, never understand the hurt and life swallowing anger I bottled.

But it's not caused by how you think it is. No not my parents, no it was someone way worse, it was my older brother. Luke was the oldest of three brothers I had, and he was the worst. I think he's bipolar, because one minute he could be nice and giving me spending money, the next minute he breaks one of my bones in absolute rage.

And did anyone ever stop Luke?

No.

Because my parents are too weak to stop him, my other brothers just pretend they didn't hear my screams of pain. Pretend that their older brother wasn't a psychopath, though they could be just as half as abusive to me as well.

I remember being in the hospital at age eleven, because I was thrown down the stairs in one of Luke's fit of rage. Now I was seventeen and a half, back at the hospital from the same repeated incident.

"Hush, Jessica. You mustn't cry." Though my father himself was crying, big tears dripping down his face as his voice shook.

My father was a sweet old man, he could never harm anyone. In fact, he'd scold anyone for killing a moth or a bee, he was a gentle spirit. Unfortunately, that wasn't passed on to my so called blood brothers.

My tears never dried, I just stared at my father as they dripped down. How could he remain so. . . I don't know what I was expecting, I thought this would be some fairy tale moment where he kicks my brothers out and I would never have to see them again. So maybe then I could live a carefree life, one I deserved.

What a stupid thought.

The nurse came in, wearing those purple scrubs with a worried smile., she came in along with a police officer.

The police officer gave everyone a hard look, and looked down at me with worried eyes. For a moment I felt panic, but then I knew he wouldn't suspect abuse. My parents always covered up for my brother’s rage, besides . . . family comes first, right?

"Miss Maureen, I'm officer Jenkins. Can you tell me how this happened?" he asked, taking out a note pad and pen, poised to write down what I said. His eyes never left that rough glint, maybe he thought I was attacked by some psycho.

I almost confessed everything, but looking at my father I knew I couldn't. My father was elderly now, with a heart condition and diabetes. He couldn't handle any kind of stress and I could not be the blame for another heart attack he'd have.

Call me a coward, but I will not be held responsible for his death.

"F-fell...d-d-own..." I wheezed painfully, I had two broken ribs and a broken arm from the fall. Every breath I took was immensely painful, a constant crushing force on my chest.