𝕎𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕤 𝔽𝕒𝕝𝕝 (Book 3)

Backstories

A/N: Hey guys, so as this is in a different universe, as Gwen's now mixed and everything, last book is still canon but with a few little tweaks. As I said before, third books about to be millions of ages better than the first two. Gives a little more insight on the characters. So be prepared to read lolll.

McKenzie Stone:

Every night there's yelling. When you've listened to it long enough it's all just white noise.

"You fat bitch!"

"You ungrateful asshole!"

"I wish I never even married you, you fucking slut!"

It becomes more and more graphic but I still find myself falling asleep to the sounds of angered screaming and items being thrown back and forth across the room. Something about it just puts me right to sleep. My brothers weren't as calm as I was when these disputes happened. My older brother, James, was always propped up by our door to listen just in case my dad decided to take a break at my mom and come upstairs. My little brother, Nick, was always huddled in the corner of our room trying to be as far away as he could when the screaming began. He covered his ears thinking he could drown it out but when he couldn't I was always there ready to comfort him. We were all so young. James being 15, Nick only being 7, and then me. Only 10 years old when my mom packed up and left. Dad didn't take too kindly to the act. Me looking so much like my mother infuriated him. I can't tell you how many things have been thrown my way or things that have badly bloodied and bruised me. Years and years of yelling and screaming from my mother and father and when mom left, I found myself missing it. I'd rather be invisible than be seen as the punching bag.

Years passed and the hits kept coming. Fear built within my younger brother while rage filled James' veins. He wanted to keep us safe but there was only so much he could do when my father held the advantage over us. He dangled our freedom, safety, and love over our heads and we jumped to reach it for years. We never got close. That is until James found his opening. The minute he turned 18 he was gone. Enlisted in the military.

He promised to me and my brother, "I'll be back for you and when I do I'm going to get you out of this hell."

I wish we didn't believe him as much as we did. We didn't see him for years.

School was never my forte either. I had a few friends but nothing ever felt real between them. My emotions were always strong but having to bite your tongue everytime you feel them... well it puts a really bad taste in your mouth. Everytime my dad hit me I found myself throwing my fist back at someone else. Never the undeserving... But it never felt like the right thing no matter who received the hit. I just remember being angry and scared and sad and everything was swarming into this violent boil in my blood. I just wanted someone else to know how badly it hurt I guess.

Every nasty comment; "You poor bitch!"

"You disgusting street rat!"

"Whore!"

It always ended the same. Bloody noses, black eyes, scrapes and bruises. But hey, you should have seen the other guy. Every hit I gave, every bruise I caused, every drop of blood they lost... It always hurt me more to know I did those things. The things my father had done to me.

More years passed and Nick was now 12 with me at 15. We both waited for James to write to us... he never did. We thought he had given up on us at this point and we began to lose hope. I was Nick's protector now and I didn't realize how much there was in this burden. Maybe I get why James left now. Everyday it's the same. Bang. Bang. BANG. And then black. I remember coming home from school one day. The house was filled with silence which made a shudder go down my spine. I was so scared to move. I thought if I moved the silence would stop and everything would collapse on itself. I tiptoed my way up the stairs and into my room.