Call It Protective [AU]

seven

The voices of my parents yelling and shouting makes me feel small and weak. I hear my little brother's cries as he runs down the hall and into my room. I open my arms and we cuddle in the corner of my room. Sometimes I wish of my older sister being here when these things happen but then I remember, she's in college.

She's gone and enjoying her life without her parents arguing. She always showed strength for me as an example of what to do in these situations. So here I am, hugging my brother assuring him that everything will be alright.

"We have to stop them." He whispers and I nod.

I pull away and look him straight in the eyes. "I'm going to try, okay? You stay here and no matter what you hear, you stay here perfectly still. Understand?" I ask and he nods.

He whimpers before hugging me one more time. I stand up and slowly walk out my room. I decide to close the door so he wouldn't see any shadows of any possible horror. I'm shaking as I slowly walk to the living room.

The yelling hasn't stopped and I jump when I hear glass shattering. I gain the courage to look at the scene. My mom is sobbing and has running makeup. My dad is shouting with one empty bottle of beer in one hand. I notice a bruise on my mom's forehead.

I step into the living room and shout at my dad. He turns and smiles an evil smile I've never seen on him. "Don't you dare touch her!" My mom exclaims and then suddenly, I'm hit with the glass bottle.

I wake up screaming. Michael's holding onto me with worried practically printed on his face. My loud breathing is the only thing heard. I touch my face and feel beads of sweat. I wipe all of that off and look back at Michael.

"Fucking nightmares, right?" I chuckle awkwardly.

"That was no nightmare. That was a replayed moment." He says gently and I swallow the lump in my throat.

"What time is it? We could just go ahead and eat breakfast." I say, quickly changing the subject.

"Lux." He says firmly. I question him and attempt to leave the bed but he doesn't allow me.

"You're not escaping this. I have to know what happened." He says softly and I nod.

My hands are shaking because I've never explained this with anyone. Hell, the only people I've talked with about this were my siblings. My beautiful siblings who never deserved this.

I clear my throat and avoid eye contact. "My parents would always fight. My dad in particular would fucking come home drunk and beat my mother." I explain and stop talking, in fear I'd start sobbing.

My body's shaking, I force myself not to get emotional over the stupid shit that I've experienced. "My sister and I were always the next ones. Never my brother. No, he was taught other fucked up shit." I manage and finally make eye contact with Michael.

I tend to swear more when I'm mad or upset. So, anything I say from this point on won't be some fucking poem. Nah, it'll be pure feelings expressed in my own ways.

"Do you get those often?" He asks.

"Unfortunately." I answer.

"Is that why you came here?" He asks and I can tell he seemed a little hurt. I didn't lie, I just didn't say the entire reason I'm here.

"Sorta. The coming home drunk thing was like a hint. So I left." I answer.

"You said they taught your brother some things. What do you mean?" He asks. I groan and bury my face in my hands.

"It's a long ass story. Can I explain later?" I ask and he hums.

I was about to move to go to the door but Michael stops me once more. "Let me bring you food, princess." He softly and I smile.

He leaves me in silence. My head is spinning as I think of why I suddenly had to have this dream again. These fucking nightmares always happen in the worst of times. I sometimes just want to stab whoever designs my dreams because, I don't need a reminder of my past.

My present is me wanting to forget what happened. Desperately needing my past to be forgotten. I've always fought this fucked up battle of trying not to become what my parents showed. Sometimes, I hate when- no, sorry, I always hate when these memories pop up out of no where.

I get up from my bed and storm out the room. I stomp down the stairs and walk into the kitchen. Michael's talking to me but I chose to ignore him. I open the fridge door and grab a beer bottle. From experience, I easily pop the cap off with my shirt.

"You can't have that for breakfast." He says without looking at me.

I clear my throat in order for him to get my attention. He sighs before looking up from the sizzling pan with breakfast food. I wink before chugging that sucker down. It burned because it's the first thing I drank after waking up. I finish the bottle rather quickly, making me pretty dizzy.

Glass shatters and apparently, it's the empty beer bottles I just chugged. I stare at the peices before looking back at Michael.