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"I'm scared, Joe," I strangled out, rocking baby Ollie back and forth in my arms to stop him from sobbing. "What do we do?"
"I don't know, Del." At ten years old, Joey's voice was still boyish and unbroken. "But we have to do something."
"You do nothing," Darren's emotionless voice came from the bunk bed below us. He had turned fifteen yesterday and his voice sounded like a real grown up now. "You stay in here and keep your mouth shut."
"We can't leave her down there with him," Joey hissed. "She's just had the baby. If he hits her, he'll kill her!"
"He won't kill her," Darren replied, sounding frustrated. "But he will kill you if you go down there, idiot."
"Mammy," four-year-old Tadhg sobbed, curling into Shannon's side. "Mammy."
"Shh, Tadhg," She coaxed, and wrapped her arm around his chubby shoulders. "Mammy's fine."
"She's not fine," Joey choked out. "And he knows it."
"What do you want me to do, Joey?" Darren demanded. "I'm trying to keep you safe!" Rolling off his bunk, he stood up and glared at the five of us. The streetlight flooding through the window illuminated his bruised and battered face.
"I tried to stop him and look at me–" His voice broke and he dragged in several deep breaths. "They're having...he's trying... listen, you don't understand what's going on down there– you're too small to understand– but I do, and I'm telling you to stay in bed."
Releasing a furious growl, Joey sprang down from the top bunk and grabbed his hurley from behind the door. "She's our mother," he hissed, staring up at Darren with narrowed eyes. "And if you won't help her, I'll do it myself!"
"I don't care what's happening," Joey spat. "I know it's wrong. And maybe you can listen to her crying, but I can't!"
With that, he stormed out of the room with his hurley in tow. The sound of his footsteps thundering down the stairs had my heart leaping in my chest.
"Stop him," I begged as the screaming grew louder and Tadhg cried harder. "Please, Darren!"
"I can't stop the man," he strangled out, sinking down on his bunk. "I tried...he's too fucking strong! I can't–"
"Here, Shan, hold him." Shifting Ollie into my twin sister's arms, I climbed down the ladder and charged for the staircase with Darren shouting, "Delilah, please don't!" after me.
I knew I shouldn't go down there, but I had to. I couldn't leave Joey on his own.
I stumbled down the staircase, and hurried into the kitchen, only to skid over something wet and land hard on my bottom.
Glancing down at the pool of red I was sitting in, I shuddered in repulsion and quickly clambered to my feet, wiping my hands on my Barbie nightdress. I didn't like blood. It always made me feel sick.
