TRIGGER WARNING:PHYSICAL ABUSE
HARRY'S POV
dream (flashback)
Sabrina, Lou, and I had spent the past hour chasing butterflies around in the backyard. Sabrina loved them and would spend hours watching them, whether they were fluttering in the air or resting on a nearby flower. She usually pulled the two of us along to catch them for her.
Sabrina would point them out and then we would (carefully) hunt them down and present them to her. Then she would very delicately rest them on her fingertips and stare at their very pretty colors and patterned wings until they would fly away.
Lou and I would go find another one for her to hold after the last flew away until she was satisfied for the day.
It was after our fifth and final catch that we all finally retired to the house.
"Harry?" Sabrina pipes up, putting a small hand on the end of my shirt to tug at it, "Can we paint? I want to draw one of the butterflies that we caught today."
I nod at her, giving her a smile, "Yeah, of course 'Brina. I'll go upstairs and grab everything we need. I'll meet you two on the back porch."
She claps her hands loudly together, putting a hand out to pull at the other boy, "Lou, c'mon! We have to hurry so we can find the best spot before Haz comes back with the paints" she urges, tugging at him to follow her as she scurries away in the opposite direction. "If we don't find a good shady spot then the butterflies won't come up to us."
I watch the two run in the opposite direction as I continue to make my way to the backdoor, feeling the gust of cool air conditioning against my hot skin as I walk in. It felt really nice after running around for so long.
I was feeling a little dehydrated as well, deciding to stop by the kitchen to grab a glass of water for myself before heading upstairs. This time I made sure to grab the stool inside the pantry though, because last time I tried getting water myself, mum got mad at me for climbing up on the countertops because I was too short to reach.
I place the stool in front of the cupboard, grabbing a glass for myself and then proceeding to fill it up at the sink faucet, taking a large sip of it once it was full. The water felt really nice and I automatically felt a bit more hydrated.
"She's a nuisance, Amanda! She shouldn't even be here, nor should she have been born in the first place! As soon as we had Harry, you should have gotten the procedure as I suggested. How the hell can you be this stupid?"
I nearly drop my glass of water when I hear the shouting, recognizing my dad's shouting immediately. It wasn't the first time I heard it, however, he's never been this loud or angry sounding before.
I was scared.
"Sabrina is a blessing Christopher. She's deserving nothing but love - your love - and support. How can you even say these horrible things about your own daughter?"
Hearing my mother's voice struck more fear into me, but that fear wasn't for myself. I was scared of what was going to happen if Dad got even madder.
I had no idea why he was so mad though. Sabrina had done nothing wrong, that I knew of.
"I need my son to be focused on the future" I here my father sneer, "This enterprise is his future and he cannot have this three-year-old-"
"She's five Christopher"
"-distracting him. I absolutely cannot have a child threaten an empire I've spent my entire life building", his hard breathing being heard from the room over.
"Harry is only nine, you can't have this sort of pressure on him at such a young age" my mother replies calmly, in an attempt to soothe such a tense environment, "And what if he doesn't want the comp-"
A loud slam elicits from the room, sounding almost like a book falling. A muffled shriek follows.
"Nonsense! If you knew what was good for you and my son, then you would find something to do with her" he speaks up, his voice sounding even harsher than before, "For god's sake, she was making him run around and catch butterflies for her today! No son of mine will be caught doing such girly things. She has done absolutely nothing but distract him."
His words only send more confusing thoughts through my head. Maybe if I just went in and told him that I didn't mind catching the butterflies for Sabrina then...
"She's our daughter and we love her just as much as we love Harry -"
"She is not my daughter."
"-And he is her big brother. He's supposed to be there to do these things for his little sister, things that will make her happy. He would be absolutely heartbroken to see Sabrina sent off somewhere where he may never get the chance to see her again." I begin hearing heavy sobs fall from out of the room. "I would be absolutely heartbroken to see my little girl go. How do you expect me to-"
Then I hear the slap.
And then another.
And another.
I don't know where they're coming from, but my mom is crying even louder now.
"Get rid of her Amanda," my dad practically growls, "or I swear to god, you won't be happy to see how I decide to handle it myself."
The slam of a door follows his final words, and I waste no time running into the flat to see what just happened. My glass of water is forgotten on the counter, the sounds of a squealing Sabrina being heard and seen through the kitchen window as I run past it, and the sight of my mom curled up on the floor catching my eyes as I walk into the study.
"Mum?" I walk up to her, my voice startlingly her a bit, her head raising up from off her knees to stare at me with very sad-looking eyes. "Why are you on the ground? Are you okay?"
"Mummy is fine," she says, giving me a smile. A very broken one.
She pulls me into her lap, the two of us now both sat on the floor. "Mummy just fell down and just has a really bad headache right now. There's nothing you need to worry you're curly little head about" she sighs, putting a hand through my hair to ruffle the top.
"Can I stay with you here for a little bit? You look sad" I say, laying my head against her chest and looking up at her. Her cheeks are really red, and tears are still falling down her face, despite her saying she's 'fine.'
"I would love for you to stay with me Harry," she smiles, a dimple visibly indenting into her cheek. "It would make me so happy if you would stay."
"I want to make you happy Mummy."
"Oh, but you do sweet boy. Every time I look at you, I automatically feel so blessed. Not to mention, that I am so, so proud of you for the way that you've grown up to be such a thoughtful young man. You always watch over your sister, and you're such a good friend as well" she continues, kissing my cheek. "Never change that, okay?"
"Okay" I smile a bit, putting my hand up, "I pinky promise to be the best big brother and friend, forever."
She laughs, sticking her own pinky out towards me, but pulling back a bit before she begins speaking "You know that a pinky promise can never be broken right?" she stares, glossy green eyes overlooking my own, "That means you need to watch over your sister, keep her safe forever, just like you said.'
"I know" I nod in agreeance, wrapping my pinky around her own to seal the promise. "I will."
"Good," she nods, resting her head on top of mine, "I love you, Harry, don't forget that okay? With my entire heart, no matter what."
Her tone made me nervous, for it seemed like her words meant so much more.
But the butterflies waiting to be painted outside urged me to ignore the strange gut feeling I had.
"I love you too Mummy."
I wish I hadn't ignored the bad feeling in my tummy.
Because one year later my mum was rushed to the hospital.
We don't know why she was so sick, but we did know it was bad.
Very very bad.
Our neighbors were the ones to drive Sabrina and me here, informing us that our mother had passed out while in the car, running it into a tree due to her unconscious state. Our father was too busy at the moment to stop what he was doing and pick us up, much less meet us there for that matter, resulting in us finding out the news from the source we did.
When we made it inside, the tears threatening to fall the entire drive over finally did, a sobbing Sabrina next to me. The two of us stood there staring for a while at our mother, heartbroken at the sight. Machines pumped into her, a heart monitor beating slowly next to her. A nurse escorted Sabrina out of the room as soon as the crying became too excessive, leaving me alone.
"Mum?" I try, desperately wishing for a response I would never receive. "Mum, wake up. You need to wake up, please."
I shake her shoulder, hoping that it might wake her up. "Please, mum open you're eyes."
"Don't waste your breath" a voice interrupts, one I place as my fathers, "She's not going to wake up, no matter how hard you try to shake her."
My father's voice only made more tears well up in my eyes, a knot forming in my throating because of his blunt words. "Don't say that. Don't say things that are not true" I force out, refusing to take my eyes off my mother, in fear that she may disappear forever the moment I turn around.
"Why the hell would I lie? She hit her head, which caused a lot more brain damage than she had to begin with" he bites, having absolutely no remorse for his dying wife in front of him. "It's your sister's fault too. She was bothering Amanda all day about buying her more of that cereal she eats nonstop. What was it? Cocoa Pebbles or some shit?"
"Sabrina did this?" tears now running down my face as he continues to speak, "No, she couldn't have. This isn't her fault. Mum passed out. She's sick."
"Doesn't matter that she's sick. Your mum wouldn't be here now, practically dead if it wasn't for her constant nagging. Sabrina made her get into that car. She was the one who did this."
"No, she didn't!" I cry back, putting my hands up to my ears to cease the ringing in them. "This isn't her fault. This isn't her fault. This isn't her-"
"If Sabrina wasn't here, your mother would still be alive, I can promise you that."
"-fault. This isn't her fault. This isn't her fault. This i-isn't her fault."
"Stop being stupid, boy. Crying is for sissies and I won't have you making excuses. Accept it."
I shake my head no relentlessly, only stopping midway when I feel a sharp slap across my skin. The tears fall faster.
"Accept it, now. Or else that won't be the last time I try to knock some sense into you."
...
Present Time
GRACIE'S POV
I didn't expect to be woken up at such an unholy hour in the morning, but sometimes days don't begin the way you expect them to.
Shallow breaths and smaller whimpers startled me awake, the sound ringing in my ears evoking my curiosity. At first, I tried to block them out, thinking that it was possibly a loose air vent or an outside environmental factor. However, when the mumbling started, my body was forced awake.
Managing to pry an eyelid open, I flipped around to see exactly what Sabrina (immediately assuming it was her who was making the sound) was doing up at such a strange time, much less why she was crying and speaking to herself. Yet, to my surprise, I found her sound asleep and curled up into her blanket, right beside me. Snores slipped from her open mouth, a string of saliva falling from it as well.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who drools" I grumble, feeling even more confused than I did previously. I assumed that Sabrina would be the one eliciting the noise, but one look at her proved me to be completely wrong.
"Sabrina's fault. It's Sabrina's fault. She's dead and it's Sabrina's fault."
My head whipped to the side, the sound of Harry's voice and the whimpering that followed it catching my attention and shocking me, to say the very least.
"She did this. She's dead, and it's her fault."
"What the hell?" I mutter, noticing the sleeping boy right beside my feet. He was laid across the floor, his long arms and legs thrashing at his sides. He continued to turn from one side to the other, bumping into the couch I was seated on as he did so.
The whimpers were beginning to grow louder, and out of fear that he may wake the rest of the sleeping people's up, I quickly brought a hand down to shake him awake.
"Harry" I whisper, trying my best to keep my voice low enough that I didn't wake Sabrina. "Harry, wake up, please. It's just a bad dream."
He continues to toss, his eye's fluttering, but still refusing to open. With him face up to me now, I can see the wetness spread across his cheeks, curls tousled across his forehead due to his insistent tossing and turning.
"Please, Harry. You need to wake up," I try once more, shaking him harder. This time I successfully managed to wake him, his eyes flashing open, fear painted across the different shades of green. He stills completely, most likely in shock of being woken up out of whatever nightmare was playing out in his head, or maybe because of me being the one he has woken up to.
His eyes look over my own momentarily, until they flash to gaze over the girl beside me.
A lone tear falls from his eye as he stares at her.
Then another.
And soon full racked out sobs fall from his throat.
"Oh no, Harry, shh, it's okay" I hush, pushing myself off the couch and down onto the floor next to him, "Please talk to me, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
I watch as the tears stream down his face, the sight so unexpected and one that I never thought I would see in my entire life. With each new tear that falls, I feel my heartbreak a little more, feeling helpless in knowing what to do to help him.
"Please Harry, please talk to me. Tell what I can do," I beg, placing my hands to the side of his face so that I can force him to look at me. "What can I do?"
The distraught plastered across his face causes a welt to swell in my throat, biting my lip in an attempt to distract the pain in my heart with a physical kind.
"Nothing" his voice cracks as he speaks, "You can't bring her back."
"Bring who back Harry?"
He shakes his head, bitting down onto his lip to choke back another sob.
"It's okay," I nod, keeping his head in my hands, "You don't need to tell me. Just tell me if there's anything I can do. I don't like seeing you sad."
"Anything?" he repeats, looking back at me.
"I think you and I have two very definitions of anything" I raise an eyebrow at him, trying my best to get some sort of positive reaction out of him, "Anything within reasonability."
He nods, accepting my answer, his eyes flashing to look back at Sabrina again before focusing on me again.
Harry swallows, blinking up at me before giving into my offer.
"Uh, my mom, she used to let me lay in her lap when I was sad" he admits, swallowing down any sort of embarrassment he thinks his confession may have caused him. "She would run her fingers through my hair, and uh just you know scratch my back and stuff to get me to calm down" he explains, his head now leaning into my hand as I begin to smooth my thumbs up and down on his cheek. "She sang too."
I smile, tilting my head at him before I drop my hands from his face. A small frown forms on his face as I push myself away from him, standing up and walking towards where I was previously sleeping.
I quickly grab a pillow and blanket, before sitting back down on the floor, pushing my back to the couch, and crossing my legs in front of me.
"Alright, come to Mama."
Harry's eyes widened with my statement, only then making me realize how bad that sounded, especially considering how little I know about his family situation.
"Holy shit, I am so sorry," I apologize immediately and profusely, bring a hand to my forehead, slapping at it for how dumb of a comment that was. "That was so inappropriate and a complete accident. I really didn't mean to-"
Harry's head on my lap cuts me off and immediately makes me shut up.
I'd never seen him give in so quickly and willingly, only making me realize even more how distraught his dream left him.
Immediately, my hands gravitate to his hair, my fingers running up and down his back, and through the curls on top of his head, my nails scratching his scalp.
"They're even softer than they look" I whisper, more so to myself, but I feel Harry let out a silent laugh due to the vibration I felt through his body.
Harry's head stays curled up on my lap, my fingers twisting through the curls and making more of a mess of them than they were before. The close contact allows me to feel every breath he takes, and within minutes of running my hands up and down his back, I can tell he's knocked out.
Similar to his sister, small snores fall from his gaped open mouth, letting me know that he truly is asleep. However, afraid that if I were to move that I may wake him, the little space I have to slip out keeps me stuck in my place on the floor.
But I wasn't really planning on moving anyway.