Chapter 2

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I grit my teeth as the belt comes down. I don't cry anymore, I guess I'm used to it. Things like this happen about three times a week. The old bruises on my arm get covered up by new ones. The curse words still clutter my mind. I'm a bitch. A slut. On occasions I'm a piece of shit.

"Leave her the fuck alone! Come hit me, pick on me. Just stop hitting her John!" I hear Victor scream. I was sitting on my bed and Victor was checking up on Maria in the bathroom. Dad came in and started yelling curse words at me, calling me a bitch saying that I shouldn't have been born. I hope he doesn't mean that. I hope it's the alcohol saying that. But somehow I know he does mean it. He never liked me or Maria. He's not our real father. My mother got pregnant with Victor at a really young age. My mom got divorced from John and got a new husband. My real dad. She had me then Maria. Mom, for some reason, wanted to be with John again. He's hated us ever since. John preferred Victor, but when Victor started defending me and Maria, he started hating him too. I only call him dad because mom forces me to.

Dad stops hitting me and leaves the room. Victor walks over to me. I pull up my shorts and it reveals purple bruises. I look at my arms to the new bruises formed over the old ones.

"Are you okay Alex?" Victor asks me touching my bruises. I flinch and nod my head. I feel the tears start forming in my eyes.

"I'm so sorry. I should have done something this is all my fault. I'm so stupid. It's my job to protect both of you." He starts pacing back and forth in my room. I open a drawer that contains my most prized things. A box containing pencils, sharpeners, and colored pencils. Victor got them for me for my birthday a couple months ago. A teddy bear that I've had since I was 3, I still hug it when I get nightmares about dad. And also a heat and freeze ointment for the bruises. I start rubbing some on my arms and legs. I wince and a tear slips out. Why does dad do this to us? Why does he hate us so much? I've protected my sister from that monster, Victor always protects me. What did I ever do wrong?

*****

"Guys dinner is served!" Victor says with a French accent. Maria giggles and opens up the Jack-in the-box bag. Since Victor works he can pay for his own car and he brings us food whenever my dad is drunk. Dad doesn't let my mom out of the room when he's like this. God knows what he does to her. She doesn't scream or cry so I don't think he's hurting her. As Victor goes to grab the bag I catch a glimpse of something red on his upper arm. I quickly grab his hand and take him away from a very hungry Maria.

"What is this?" I ask him harshly. It looks like a cut and it's fresh, the skin hasn't started to heal itself.

"Nothing. It's just John again. I pushed him into the kitchen counter and he sliced me with the knife." Victor says shrugging. He shrugs like it's no big deal. He just basically got stabbed by his father. "Can we not talk about John please?" He asks me. I nod and we both walk over to my bed where we all start eating the hamburgers and tacos my big brother brought.

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