The Truth She Never Heard

Chapter 1

I breathed in the scent of pie. Not coming from my house -my mother had simply decided to quit cooking all together when my father decided he did not like her cooking-but from my neighbors. I desperately wanted to be in that house eating the delicious pie and listening to Mr. Edwards talk about his days in the army while Mrs. Edwards- She insisted I call her Cora-spaced out because she had heard those stories long ago.

Instead I was outside, in the 100 degree' weather, staring at well, nothing. Dad decided that I was to attached to my computer (I was doing a school project) and that when he was a kid all he did was play outside. I tried to explain to him that I was doing my school project but he wouldn't hear of it and as soon as he coaxed me outside I heard the door lock behind me.

I stared at the bruise on my arm. I noted that it was healing-which was good it had been there for a while. I remembered how I got it- you do NOT talk to dad when he is drunk (which is all the time) especially when the whip is right there beside him hanging on the wall as if it is a Nobel Prize Award, or something. I despised that whip. In fact, I hated it. It had been used many times on me and my little sister -Vegas. That's another reason I hated being out here. She was in there-nobody to defend her- and I was out here-now watching the sun set and wondering when and if I'm going to be able to come back in. I was her protector and she was a little girl who let me take the whip for her but scream as if she had just been hit with dads well worn, leather belt that grandfather had made for him as a kid.

I just hoped Vegas was okay, she probably already got hit once or twice for a typical toddler doing. Our parents are what you called crazy. Im not talking about the hearing voices type of crazy.
I looked back at the door and saw Vegas appear suddenly-well her hand actually-touch the glass and then her face that had tears falling down her cheeks and her mouth that was screaming for me to help her. But I couldn't. But I could try to make dad stop. It had worked before, so hopefully it would work now. I grabbed a stick and ran towards the door. I hit the glass until Dad finally came up and released Vegas, opened the Door-Vegas ran towards me- and Dad screamed at me after hitting me once on the side with the whip. I took it though- I knew it would happen-and watched him go back inside and lock the door. Then I turned around and saw Vegas with her pant leg up staring at where he had hit her. All I saw was a big slash of purple.

"Vegas are you okay?" I asked her through my own tears (I may have known the whip was coming, but that doesn't mean it didn't hurt). I watched another tear fall down her cheek and fall into her lap. Vegas smiled at me and then stared at the night's sky. Mom and Dad still hadn't let us in yet but I occasionally saw Mom check on us from her bedroom window when Dad was not looking. Vegas shook underneath me.

"Vegas?" She turned her head away from the sky and up at me.

"I'z okay I'z just cold." She replied as she burred her head in to my side.

"OWW!" I yelled in pain and Vegas's eyes opened wide.

"I'z sorry sissy I'z forgot. Is dat where'd he hits you?" I moved her head onto the grass and stood up.

"Ya Vegas it is, but it's okay. I'm fine really." But I didn't know if it was fine and I didn't want to look.

"You'z so strong." I smiled at her and walked towards the shed where the sleeping bags were. It was not until Vegas lied down on hers that I realized that it had holes in it. I traded her because there was not another sleeping bag in there (On our camping trips, Mom and Dad had used an air mattress) "Sissy is mommy and daddy coming to get us?"

"Umm...Vegas...Sugar or Spice?" I asked. She knew what it meant I had used it millions of times before. Sugar meant me sugarcoating the situation and Spice meant me telling the truth and not dancing around the subject.