Unlikely Hero

Chapter six

“Listen, if I ever hear you talk about killing yourself again I will kick your ass. Do you understand me?” Taylor questioned.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this before, why are we just learning about your fears? You. Are. Not. Alone. Do you understand me? I know sometimes it may seem like you are, but as long as you have me.”

“And me,” Jamie stated.

“You will never be alone.” Taylor said as he stood up and pulled me into he’s arms. “Don’t worry about Jim; he will never kill you or me. I won’t let him, so do not worry.”

I nodded my head and agreed even though I knew I wouldn’t be able stop from worrying. I will stop once we’re done with Jim for good, until then I was always worry.

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We arrived home thirty minutes late. We stop to get us something to eat so once we were in our rooms we wouldn’t have to leave. We didn’t see Jim anywhere so we thought that he left.

“It doesn’t look like he is here. So we’ll hang in my room until it time for you to sleep, alright?”

Nodding my head, Taylor told me to follow close behind him. A few more steps and we would’ve made it to Taylor room without any trouble. But of course life is a bitch and we ran into Jim. He gave us a huge smile showing all he’s fucked up teeth from smoking and drinking when he noticed us.

“Well if it isn’t daddy’s children, I thought daddy said to be home in thirty. I did say thirty right Alexz?” Jim asked. I could smell the alcohol on he’s breathe.

“Yes,” I mumbled looking down at the floor.

“Then can you tell me why you are let’s see,” he stop to look at he’s bare wrist. “Late.”

“Alexz had to stay after class to finish her work she didn’t do when she was on bed rest.” Taylor answered as he pushed me completely behind him, which didn’t go unnoticed by Jim.

“Why we’re you on bed rest?” Our mother asks when she walked into the room smoking on a cig.

“Because someone sorry excuse of a husband put her in the hospital, her ribs are bruised pretty badly from someone kicking her.” Taylor sneered.

“Don’t talk to your mother like that you little shit,” Jim yelled as he mange to push Taylor onto the floor.

“Taylor,” I called as I reach to help him up.

“Hmm, pull up your shirt.” Our mother asked as she stepped in my path.

“What? No, I’m not lifting up my shirt.”  

“Listen to your mom you little bitch, you kids are too disrespectful.”

“I give respect when it’s given to me, and I’m not lifting my shirt.” I screamed.

I cried out when my mother smacked my face, I was shocked. She only ever hit me once, “now lift up your shirt you little brat.”

Taylor shouted my name as I lifted my shirt, showing her my bruised chest. She stared at my chest with a blank expression on her once pretty face. A flicker of emotion flashed into her face. Making me believe that maybe she was realizing what she is putting though, “mom.” I called, and then it was gone.

“Next time I ask you to do something do it you little whore,” and with that said she took her cigarette that was hanging from her mouth and pressed it onto my already bruised stomach. I cried out in pain once again. Taylor shouted my name as he tried to get off the floor, but Jim put he’s foot on he’s back so he couldn’t get up. Taylor still shouted my name as he begged our mother to let me go.