𝘚𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙| 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴

14. Scooter's Point Of View

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter depicts graphic abuse. Please do not read if this bothers or upsets you.

My sister sat cross-legged in her bed, wrapped in the duvet. Her eyes were closed, a smile on her face, and the tip of her tongue poked out just enough for me to see.

That was something she'd always done. Whenever she was lost in thought, or enjoying a peaceful moment, her little pink tongue was poked out.

I smiled at the sight.

I loved my sister more than words could describe. Oftentimes I would treat her like she was my own child, just to give her some form of love and comfort.

I closed my eyes, remembering the small girl who had received a onsie for her 4th birthday. She refused to ever take the pajamas off, constantly pretending she was the hopping animal the outfit depicted. A bunny. Ella was my Bunny. Our mother had gotten her to take it off once for a bath, throwing it in the washer.

It shrunk. She cried for days. I didn't know what to do. My heart hurt seeing my little sister so upset. If only I'd know that wasn't the worst of it.

The day of her accident. Deep down, I regret ever leaving her to fend off our father by herself. I'd never be able to forgive myself for it.

The one day I had left home without a second glance, I had came back to a crime scene.

Ella, sprawled out on the floor, crying silently as if she had screamed her lungs raw. The sadistic look on our fathers' face as he stood over her body, ready to attack if she moved, still haunts me to this day.

He looked pleased with himself as she choked on her own blood.

He had beaten, scarred, and brutalized her tiny body. She was only seven.

I watched as my father walked back to his study, sitting down and reading his daily paper as if nothing ever happened.

I gently picked up my sister, crying because I didn't save her. I carried her upstairs to my room, running her a bath to clean her.

The bruises and cuts were everywhere. I cried as she passed out in the tub. I sobbed myself to blindness as I scrubbed blood off my little sister's face and neck.

"Scooter?" I heard her voice whisper, worry lacing my name as it fell off her small lips.

"Yeah?" I blinked, coming out of my daze.

"Why are you crying?" Her eyes dropped and her lip quivered.

I hadn't notice the trail of salty tears falling from my eyes. I exhaled a shaky breath.

"Just thinking. I'm okay kiddo." I sighed, wiping some of the tears off of my cheeks.

She gently pulled my mug out of my hands, setting both of them on her night stand. Her small arms wrapped around my torso as she pulled me into a hug. I held her close as if she could disappear into thin air at any moment.

"It's okay." She repeated the words I had spoken to her thousands of times.

Bunny always worried me. I never knew when I could leave her alone again and when I couldn't. After the incident, she had developed terrible anxiety. She would shake uncontrollably, sometimes even seizing. Her arms would cross, unbeknownst to her, and violently pick the skin off of the other. Her lip would quiver and her breathing became erratic and she would hyperventilate. When her hands had stopped picking her arm, they would fly up and grip her hair, threading to rip it from her scalp.

I never wanted her to break down like that. I tried my hardest to see if I could break her out of it. Trying everything I could think of to keep her calm and grounded. It seemed as though I was the only person able to snap her out of the attacks. Her tiny arms would fling around my shoulders and I would hold her and whisper that everything would be okay. I promised her things would be okay. I'll be damned if I break that promise.