“Do you remember any of the bad stuff that you want to tell me about?” I don’t expect her to answer this question, but she does.
“Yes, one time he hit Esme. We had been outside, playing with some animals. She had picked a beautiful, coral red flower for our mother, but when we arrived at home and our father saw it, he became so angry at her, furious almost. And hit her. Heslapped her cheek so hard. She was blue and purple for at least a week after that. We had to lie to our friends about what had happened, that she had fallen on a rock, even though that was far from the truth. We simply never spoke about it ever again, she didn’t want to. I think she felt ashamed of herself, she must have thought that it was her fault. I know how much it hurt her.”
“I’m so sorry that you and your sister had to go through all that.”
“It’s not your fault.”
I know it’s not, but I feel like I have a responsibility to apologize to her, because her father never will.
We both go quiet and get stuck in our own thoughts, at least I do. One memory suddenly decides to consume me, one that I don’t want to think of.
I had just been outside, playing with my boring sticks. Walking into our house, I saw my father holding my mother against the kitchen counter with his sharpest dagger against her throat.
I tried my best to be quiet, not wanting to be seen, knowing that he gets angrier if he sees me.
Please don’t hurt her, dad... Not my mommy... Take it out on me, not on her, she does not deserve it. But I do, I know I do, that’s what you always tell me, I deserve to be punished.
The floor creaked underneath my tiptoes, and my father’s eyes made contact with mine as fast as he heard it.
“You fucking rat!” He screamed at me.
I ran up the stairs as fast as my legs would let me, and slammed the door shut behind me. I tried to hide but he was too fast.
“Have I not told you to not slam the doors, you piece of shit?”
He grabbed me around my neck and lifted me up, threw me into the corner, and I landed on the hard wooden floor. He came closer and tore my thin, oversized shirt into pieces.The polished silver dagger that he was still holding in his hand came into view, and before I had a chance to move away, he started slicing up my flesh.
Blood was spilling from the deep cuts on my chest. He grabbed my arm and turned me around so that my back was facing him. Extreme pain was spreading all over it. I was screaming from the bottom of my lungs while the warm, deep red liquid ran down my back and stomach.
And then, everything went black.
As I woke up, my whole body was on fire, every single part of me was burning.
Tears poured from my eyes while lying in my mom’s lap. “Why mom? Why is he doing this to me?” I asked her in deep pain.
She started crying with me, “I don’t know, honey, I don’t know what to do.”
I wanted to be even closer to her, but I could barely move. “It hurts...” I cried out, begging for help.
“I know, honey. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” She cried while running her hand through my hair.
I tried to fall asleep again, not wanting to feel this pain, not wanting to feel anything at all. I couldn’t take it anymore. But I couldn’t leave, because then my mother would be all alone with him. And I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let anything happen to my mother, and if it did, everything would’ve been my fault. And then I would’ve gone through all this pain and agony in vain.
I needed to protect her.
Chapter 23
Genevieve
I’m starting to enjoy the thought of Ector and I more and more for every memory we create together, and it terrifies me. It makes me worried that I’m almost forgetting about the actual reason why we’re doing this. I haven’t been thinking about Esme as much as before I met Ector.
I can’t let a guy make me forget about my sister.
You’re not forgetting, you’re living.It was impossible to ignore the strong voice in my head.
If I don’t think about her every second of my waking time, what kind of sister does that make me?
One who tries to live her life after a tragic incident.The voice spoke once again.
