Author?s Note: Tears were flowing down my face as I was writing this. This is my first draft, I feel that if I edit at all I will lose what I was trying to go for - just letting out what I am feeling inside. My religious views are expressed briefly in this, please remain respectful.
This shouldn't be happening.
This can't be happening.
Knowing that she is the punching bag of a stupid, inconsiderate older brother hurts me. Knowing that when I am laughing with my family, she is locked up in a room near the back of the house makes me toss and turn. Her green eyes, full of fear, mark his every move, predicting his next hit. Should she block her face or her arm?
His words stab her mind as his hand contacts her body, leaving it purple and blue. She cries from the pain and the hurt of his words. She cries because she can't fight him, and he knows it. She cries because no one can save her.
Her mother doesn't believe a word she says; after all she isn't home until late at night. Her sister doesn't say a word, in fear that he might come after her also.
She told me not to tell anyone. She told me it had been going on for a while now. I told her to tell someone. She told me she would. I don't believe her.
I cry, silently. I take in her pain by imagining everything that had happened to me that hurt. The time I twisted my ankle falling down the stairs, the time I got a pencil stabbed into my hand and the time I fell into a chair that forced my eyeball to go backwards. I then imagine all the emotional pain I've been through, having a friend betray me, being lied to, not knowing who to trust and being emotionally unstable for a while. Nothing I have been through could ever be the pain she endures.
I can't take this all by myself. I can't be superwoman and whisk her away. I can't fight him. I can't save the day.
I can't just sit around and let her keep being abused. I can't just pretend this isn't happening. What if her leg breaks? What if one day, she doesn't come to school because she left this bitter world?
I should've noticed something months ago, I tell myself. Why wasn't I nosier and in her business? I could've stopped so much pain. She could've been safe, if I would have noticed something.
Why didn't the pieces click together until she said something? Why couldn't my mind put together the puzzle without a hint?
I am hurting. I am hurting more then I ever had before. I cried more tears for her then I have for myself. I've let out so many tears, there are no more to let out.
I am feeling guilty for asking my best friend, Matt, what I should do. Even though I didn't say her name, he knows one of my good friends is being physically abused at home. I am feeling guilty for going to my parents for help. I am feeling guilty that I am talking to other adults and most likely a policeman. This may become a case because you are being abused by a legal adult, your older brother.
Family isn't supposed to do this to each other - at least, that is what I have been taught. Isn't an older brother supposed to protect her from harm, not give the harm?
Anger has filled me up, anger at that rip off of an older brother and God. Her older brother ruined a wonderful girl. She is beautiful with her blonde hair and green eyes. She has a wonderful smile that lights my world. I think about her future. Will she always be afraid of boys now because of what her older brother did to her? Will she ever have a normal, wonderful relationship with her husband? Will she ever get married, have kids? Will she live another year? I know I shouldn't be angry at God. But if he created the earth in seven days, how could he not strike him dead instead of letting her take the hits? Why can't he save her from this?
Sadness tops the anger that fills me. I cry and toss and turn at night, worrying about her. How hard did he hit her this time? Will she ever be okay again? Will she ever feel safe? Will I see her the next day?
This is happening.
This can happen.
