Unforgotten

6

"WHERE WERE you?"

It was the cold voice that made me shiver. Like ice it stabbed my ears and my brain. It stung. But mostly it made me cringe.

Had I really forgotten about the others?

Slowly I dared to turn around and take a look at the room. They were all there, even Edwin. That pathetic creature was there casually drinking a beer – his lips twitched a little upwards. It was like nothing had happened; like he hadn't left me alone in the darkness of the town. He looked more proud than repentant.

My oldest brother was sitting on the armchair in the furthest corner from the others – his eyes were on the computer on his lap but still he somehow knew that it was me who had just walked in. He didn't look angry; he looked bored. His face was blank, and his eyes didn't show a single emotion. But still I was scared. The brother had too much power hidden inside his body. With just a blink of an eye, he could use that power.

Charles and Bryson were playing chess; or had been playing chess before I interrupted their game by showing up. They had their eyes glued onto me and even a hint of worry flashed through their eyes as they saw my red eyes.

Anthony knew. He didn't dare to look towards me, but by the look he was giving to his younger brother he showed me that he knew. And so did Jordan. He gave a tiny peek towards me but almost instantly looked away. They both knew that it was Edwin, but either of them said anything.

Aiden looked at me, and his eyebrows rose up-
"You've been crying?"

That made our oldest brother finally rase his eyes towards me. He placed the laptop down and slowly stood up. With silence filling the room he walked towards me and when he was so close that I could hear his steady breathing, he grabbed my chin. As a reflex, I snatched his hand, but he didn't even flinch an eye.
"Are you hurt?" He questioned lowly.

I shook my head-
"No."

"Then tell me child..." He took a quick pause to analyze my face. "Why did you cry?"

I stayed silent as I slowly moved my eyes towards Edwin.

I wasn't a snitch – was I? A stupid child: the youngest family member who would tell on everyone.

Seeing his face, the awful proud look covering his face, made me want to punch him. I wanted to scream, I wanted to make him feel the way I had felt when walking alone in the dark sides of the town. Fear. But I couldn't. Somehow, I couldn't tell my oldest brother what had really happened. I only saw my brother on that stranger's face; the young kid, the one who had loved me, the one who had always read me a bedtime story. I couldn't do that to him; not even when the cover of that person was a stranger who hated me.

"Because I got lost."

Weston furrowed his eyebrows-
"You got lost?"

"Yes." I nodded before repeating. "I got lost."

He was silent for a moment before he questioned-
"How?"

"I was bored and left the house." I lied confidently, my eyes still on my youngest older brother. "And then I got lost."

"And now you are lying." Edwin added with a roll of his eyes, for the first time giving a proper look towards my face. "What are you trying to prove now, huh?"

Edwin stood up from the couch and grabbed his beer with him as he walked closer to me and our oldest brother. My hand around Weston's wrist tightened and a sense of discomfort filled my body. The way his eyes looked at me – like I was a nobody, someone who displeased him.

I saw Michael in him. The way he was holding the beer bottle, the way he hated me, the way pure fear filled my body every time I saw him. It scared me. Mostly because he was just Edwin, my brother, he couldn't be like that man. Yes, he was a little angry and bitter, but he couldn't be like Michael. Could he?

Weston noticed my discomfort-
"Edwin – leave, now."

"She is lying." He spoke with a low chuckle. "I left her out there, because the car had no room for her."

"And you are proud of it?" Bryson questioned as a look of unbelief filled his face. "For what?"

"Really, brother." Jordan agreed as he shook his head. "What is your problem?"

For a moment, it was all silent again-

Edwin looked at me; he looked at my face, at the puffy and red eyes and the stained tears on my cheeks. I could swear that I saw his eyes twitch a little, and for a moment, no longer than a second, my brother was there. The seven-year-old Edwin; the eyes, the messy hair and the braces. The boy, who really had loved me at some point.

But that person was gone as soon as it came.

"I've told you thousand times." He clapped his hands together, as a sarcastic smile fell on his lips. "She is my problem."

It didn't even take a second for our oldest brother to let go of my chin and grab the chin of his younger brother instead. It looked more harsh and painful – almost as if Weston was trying to strangle him-
"And I've told you thousand times that you are my fucking problem – leave now, I do not want to see you."

"Same, brother, same." He chuckled. "Have a good fucking rest of your life."

The boy dropped the bottle of beer from his hands to the floor and it shattered to pieces, just like my heart did. The alcohol started spreading against the white fluffy carpet. It was rather satisfying; the way the orange color took over the clean and white color. But I still couldn't help but think how the carpet got more and more ruined after every second that passed.

He walked towards the door, but as he got next to me, he stopped. My youngest older brother placed his hand on my shoulder under the serious gazes of every other brother in the room. He squeezed it; enough to hurt me, but not enough to make me hiss. I hate you – he whispered, before he let go and walked out of the room.

Only the sound of the front door closing harshly was heard after him.

And as much as I tried to, I couldn't miss the black object our oldest brother was touching under the fabric of his suite jacket. When Edwin was gone, he slowly let go of it and just corrected the collar of his shirt.

What was he going to do with that gun?

"Lilah." My thoughts were interrupted when another hand, this time more gently, was placed on my shoulder – Weston. "He doesn't hate you."

"But he just..."

Arms were wrapped around me and only then I was able to feel the tears falling against my cheeks. I let them fall; I let the cold painful tears fall against my cheeks and drop on the white collared shirt of my brother which was now tightly pressed against my face.

He didn't want me to see – he didn't want me to see the sudden worry that was filling all the faces of our brothers. He didn't want me to see the alcohol spreading against the white carpet.

"Listen to me." Weston whispered; his lips placed against my forehead. "He is sick; he is very sick at the moment. It's not you, okay?"

"But I..."

"It is not you." He spoke again as he let his hand brush through my ginger hair. "Trust me with this one."

Unforgotten

"One hot chocolate with five marshmallows, chopped chocolate and a pinch of cinnamon." A cup was placed in front of me on the kitchen table before arms wrapped around me from behind. "And a very much needed hug."

The person held me for quite a while – at least half a minute – before he let go, but not before placing a kiss on my forehead. He then sat down on the stool next to me, and took a tiny sip from his own creature-
"Yes, I still got the skills."

I chuckled, giving a small smile to my second oldest brother-
"Thank you, Charles."

He returned that smile and let his hand brush through my ginger hair.

When Charles smiled, his appearance changed almost fully. He looked usually so much more intimidating – not anywhere near as intimidating as our oldest brother, but I knew better than not to annoy him. But when he smiled, he looked so much more like that teenager he had once been. So sweet and kind. A teddy bear – the little Delilah had called him, and that's what he still reminded of.

He didn't even have to say anything; the smile and the color of his eyes gave my mind some kind of peace. The peace which I really needed at that moment.

"You okay?" He questioned, his eyes trying to read my blank ones. "I know a lot has happened in these past days, and I don't really think no-one has had the time to ask how you are doing..."

"I'm okay." I tried to convince him, but I knew that he wasn't really buying that lie so I corrected myself. "Maybe I thought that I was going to be happier..."

His eyes softened, and a sad look filled his face-
"I know."

"I didn't think I would still be so scared; I didn't think the nightmares would come back." I spoke as my eyes were staring at the cup of hot chocolate in front of me. "And I didn't think Edwin would hate me..."

Tears were glimmering in my eyes, and I tried to fight them back – I closed my eyes.

I wasn't a crybaby. I couldn't just cry all the time. I was supposed to be stronger; I was supposed to swallow the tears. Be a woman – like my stepfather had told me every time tears had fallen against my cheeks.

Why was it so hard?

I couldn't hold the tears back and swallow them like my brain was telling me to do. Be a woman, be a woman, be a woman; those words ringed inside my brain after every tear that fell against my cheeks. I was a crybaby after all, stupid for thinking that I could bite my tongue so hard that the tears would never drop. Now my tongue was red with blood and the water kept falling from my closed eyes. I tried to catch all those tears, every single drop of water – just so Charles couldn't see how stupidly weak I was.

But he did see it.

The stool where I was sitting was pulled closer to him. He grabbed my hands before I could catch the tenth tear and it fell on the ground. He placed his own hands against my cheeks and gently dried the tears with his thumb-
"Look at me."

I shook my head.
"I..."

"Delilah, look at me." Charles repeated his voice this time sterner, not giving me room to fight him.

I blinked, making the fifteenth and sixteenth drop of tears fall from my eyes – Charles caught them both.

"Let them fall." He whispered. "Every tear that drops from your eyes helps you; trust me, I know."

So, I did that-

I let the water drop from my eyes once again, I let the tears fall until it was no longer possible; until there was no more water left in my body. I let the sobs escape my lips, and I let them echo through the whole household – I didn't place my hand against my mouth, I didn't try to choke myself just so a sob wouldn't leave my mouth. I had done that for the past years, but not anymore.

I was a crybaby, a sensitive stupid crybaby, but my brother didn't care. He let me cry, he let me cry in silence, his hand not even once leaving my cheek. He caught them all, all the tears. It was like he caught all the problems, taking it all from my shoulders and placing them on his own. And that's what made me calm down – I wasn't alone anymore. I didn't have to escape my problems, I didn't have to swallow the tears anymore, because for once in my life there were people who would give their whole hearts to help me.

"I miss him so much-" The words got out of my mouth before I had the time to think.

My brother's eyebrows rose-
"Who?"

"Edwin." I spoke so silently that I was sure that he wouldn't hear me, but he did. "I miss my brother, the one who would be there for me every day. The little boy who wasn't scared of the dark because he couldn't be – he had to be brave for his little sister. The one who couldn't really even read, but still made sure that he told a bedtime story every night to his sister -- Charles, I can see him, but it's not him, it can't be."

A loud sigh escaped Charles' lips and without second thought, he pulled me against his hard chest into another hug – his other hand placed behind my head and his other on my back. He started drawing small circles on my back; it was his way of telling me that he was there, and he wouldn't leave.

For a moment he stayed completely silent, and for a moment I was sure that he wouldn't say anything, until he whispered-
"I know, Lilah, I know. I can see that boy too, that little kid, and it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart to know that something so bad has happened in his life that the sparkle has left his eyes. All the love, the care, and the happiness. When I look at him all I see is hate and fear."

"He hates me." I stated as the truth really hit my body. "Oh my god, he hates me, Charles, he hates me so much."

"No." Charles spoke, his words brushing against my hair. "He doesn't hate you; he hates the feeling he has towards you. He is scared to love, care about someone. He thinks that if he lets that feeling take over his body, the cruel world will take the people away from him – like it has done before."

"He doesn't want to care about anyone?"

"It's not about what he wants." My brother shook his head. "Someday you'll understand, sweetheart. He loved you more than anyone, his little sister, his little star, and he lost you. He lost you, and he lost his own mother too. His own mother picked a child, she chose from her own kids who she loved the most. He also lost his father, the one he looked up most of us all. The only one who ever even understood his fears, his feelings. And he lost his best friend, his only friend who he let inside his heart. He lost everything, and now he is scared—"

"It just isn't right..."

"It's not." He placed his lips on my forehead and let the words escape his mouth. "It is sad, and it is wrong. He is sick, and I know that someday he'll understand. But until that day you have us others; you'll never understand how much we have missed you. Especially Weston: he hasn't been this happy in ages – you are his little baby after all."

A small smile crept to my lips as I nodded my head against my brothers collared shirt-
"I know."

"It is even a little unfair." Charles pulled away from the hug, just to place his hands on my shoulders – I think it was a way to make sure that I was okay. "The oldest one is always the favorite, has always been."

"I don't have favorites."

"Humm--?" A voice hummed from the doorway as the icy blue eyes appeared to our view.

Charles rolled his eyes, but I just chuckled when our oldest brother walked to the kitchen. With just one motion he pushed Charles' hands from my shoulders and replaced them with his own. Not that there would've been something from with Charles' comfort, but the way our oldest brother pulled me into his embrace was something else. His hands were like a protective shield; warm and comforting, but still powerful enough to shield me from the outside world, from anyone who would ever try to hurt me. It was even a little funny; how that man was so intimidating and scary looking, but still could give the best hugs in the world.

His lips pressed against my hair- "I know I'm your favorite." He muttered so silently that only I could hear him.

"Edwin?" Charles questioned, referring to whether our oldest brother knew where he was.

Weston let his arms fall off my shoulders and he sat down on a stool on the other side of me. As soon as the warmness was gone, I already missed it, I wished it could've lasted a little longer – even a few seconds. I needed that comfort a little more, the comfort that I had my family by my side now and there was no one to change that.

As if my oldest brother heard my thoughts, his right arm wrapped around my shoulder again and he pulled me close to his side—
"He's out."

"Alone?"

"No." Weston spoke, his tone holding some harshness in it. "Aiden went with him; they are in a bar."

"It's not your fault." Charles shared a look with our oldest brother as if they were having a full conversation with their eyes – some language I couldn't read.

"I should've never made him watch after our little sister." He chuckled lowly, a breath of frustration leaving his lips and brushing against my head. "I was stupid for thinking that he would be a good brother for once; for her."

"I'm in here too." I murmured against my brother's collared shirt. "And it's fine, Westie."

"It's not." He lowered his head down to look at me – his hand brushing through my hair as he sighed again. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head-
"Don't apologize."

"It's just..." Another frustrated breath. "I've told him thousands of times. I will not watch him hurt his own sister, my sister. I'm not watching from the side as he hurts you, sweetheart, there is no way I'm going to let him do that."

"He is hurt..."

"And so are you." My brother cut me off before I could say anything else. "It doesn't give him the right to release his pain on others, especially on you – on my kid."

Unforgotten

He's not here, the monster is not here – I tried so hard to remind myself with that, with those words.

How was it so hard though?

How did the darkness of my room make my imagination play with my mind? Behind every corner – under my bed, behind my curtains, in my walk-in closet – I saw his eyes everywhere. And when I closed my eyes, trying to escape, his whole face plopped into my view. The look on his face, the dirty brown eyes, and the way his yellow teeth showed when a smirk fell on his lips. I couldn't escape his gaze; he was watching me.

Strawberries – I heard the way he whispered against my ear, the way his dirty breathing touched my skin.

"Strawberries." I let a shaky breath escape my lips as I repeated that word playing in my head. "Stupid strawberries, stupid stupid strawberries."

Whatever – I thought as I grabbed my soft blanket, my pillow and Declan, my stuffed animal.

Poor Declan only had one eye. He was supposed to be white, but his worn fluffy fur was browner than it was white. There was a tiny hole under his armpit, and the bow that used to be around his neck was not there anymore. But he was still my home, he smelled like home, and he gave me comfort whenever I needed that. He had always been there, and there wasn't a way that I would've fallen asleep without him on my arms.

And all that because my oldest brother had given it to me.

Speaking about Weston, I somehow found my way behind the door to his room. Like old times – I was wrapped around my blanket and Declan was tightly pressed against my chest as I was there graving for some comfort. As if I was just a little baby having a nightmare.

I raised my hand up, but didn't have the time to knock as a feeling of hesitation flowed through my body-

I wasn't a baby anymore, though. I was fourteen. It had been almost ten years since I had last stood there, I couldn't possible just assume that I could ran into my brother's room whenever a feeling of fear washed through me. A nightmare wasn't a reason – I was supposed to be old enough to handle it myself. As much as I wanted to, as much as I graved for some comfort, I wasn't that little girl anymore. Too much had changed, too many years had passed...

So, with a sigh I turned on my heels, my direction back to my room.

Grow up – I shook my head as the words of my stepfather rang inside my ears. As much as it hurt, I knew that he was right. Be a brave girl for once and ignore the monster in your dreams, ignore the eyes watching you.

"Lilah?" The low whisper of my oldest brother startled me from my own thoughts as the door to his room creaked open. "What are you doing; are you okay?

I turned around to meet his eyes that softened as soon as his gaze fell to my blanket and the stuffed animal that I was holding for dear life. His lips twisted a little upwards by the sight in front of him.

Like old times – I could almost hear his thoughts as he stepped away from the door motioning for me to get inside:
"C'mere."

But maybe I wasn't a brave girl, maybe I didn't have to grow up – not just yet. Not that night. That night I could be weak; I could be scared and afraid. It was okay to search for comfort the same way I had done ten years ago, because I couldn't do that during those ten years. Not even once. And maybe fourteen was still a child, at least for me. I had grown taller, my face wasn't baby round anymore and I had all of my teeth in my mouth, but other than that I was still that little kid.

I needed that comfort, I really did, and I always would need it.

So, wrapping my arms even tighter around Declan, I walked inside my brother's room like I had not even once left it. It was the same. Same dark walls, a huge bed, two bedside tables and a little dresser – that's all he had in his room. He loved to keep it simple; nothing to garnish his walls or floor. Nothing else than just a tiny family portrait on his bedside table.

"Scared, huh?" Weston questioned as he closed the door, his eyes still following my every step.

I didn't answer, but I knew that he understood it by the look on my face. I was probably pale as a ghost and looked like a lost bunny. A look of horror was still probably covering my eyes. There was nothing he could have not seen from me. He knew I was scared.

"Lilah?" He whispered as I scrambled on his bed and wrapped my blanket around my shivering body – I wasn't even cold.

"Couldn't sleep."

I felt how the covers of the bed sank down and a warm hand was placed on the side of my head. The lost curls in my vision were brushed away, and the hand wiped away the tear under my left eye which I didn't even notice-
"I won't let anyone hurt you. I'll drive away all the monsters that even dare to step close to your dreams, I'll be here. I'll always be here..."

"Do you promise?" I mumbled, my words getting stuck against my pillow. "When I'm sixteen, do you still promise to drive the monsters away?"

"Yes." He whispered, letting his hand smooth my hair back. "Even when you are fifty; just call me and I'll fight those monsters away with the walking stick on my hand. I might not see them anymore, but I'll do my best."

A soft chuckle escaped my lips - -

"Go to sleep." He placed a soft kiss on my forehead. "You are okay."

"Westie?"

My brother hummed-
"Humm..."

"I'm sorry for being such a baby."

"Don't be." His lips twisted a little upwards. "You'll always be a baby for me."

"I know." I murmured, my brain dancing on the edge of a dream and reality. "Westie?"

"Lilah."

"I love you." I found myself saying as my arms wrapped tightly around Declan.

"I know." He used my previous words as he placed another forehead kiss on the top of my head. "I love you more, and more, and the most."