♤ ı [3] An Everlasting Love

ı 11 ı Mi Casa es su Casa

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"Go through the darkest of days, heaven's a heartbreak away."

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We all sat there at the dinner table, enduring the painful silence as we awaited our father's response to the missing change off his dresser. The tension was killing me, and being eleven years old, I felt like bawling my eyes out, which is something I rarely do.

"I'm going to ask you again, who took the money from my dresser?" Giuseppe presses, standing at the end of the table, opposite to where our mother sat. Stefan sits beside me while a teenage Damon sits across from us. We all keep our heads down, use to this kind of scolding from our father. However, it appeared this time he wasn't letting this one go and was determined as ever to find the culprit.

I know for a fact who took it, as it was me. I only needed a few cents more to buy some more ink needed for my drawing. I only wanted more ink, and now everyone was paying the price.

"Stefan? Was it you?" Father questions assertively, glaring at my twin beside me.

Stefan doesn't answer though, as he keeps his head down. "TELL ME," Father suddenly yells, slamming his fist down on the wooden table. Damon and I jump, both of us glancing at one another. He knows that I took it. He's the one that walked me to the market to pick out the ink.

My eyes water and I open my mouth to speak, only to have Damon kick me lightly from under the table, warning me not to. I'm stuck in the middle, not sure if I should say something or be quiet. If I say something, I'll be protecting my brothers, but I'll also be beat. If I don't say anything however, we'll all be beat. It's happened before and it's bound to happen right now if I don't say something.

"One of you disgraceful children will tell me right now who took it, or so help me god you won't get to see-"

"It was me!" Damon blurts out, cutting father off.

I stare at Damon wide- eyed, both fear and shock written across my face. "It was me okay? I'm sorry, sir," Damon repeats, speaking calmly, but I can tell his voice is shaking. He's scared, yet he admitted to something he didn't do all to protect Stefan and I. All to protect me.

"You bastard," Father mutters, before grabbing Damon by the collar of his shirt, and dragging him to another room where the sounds of a beating will take place.

I sit there, holding my shaking hands between my legs as a single tear escapes my eye, fearing for what my brother will look like once he returns to the table.

All I can think about is how it's my fault. Damon sacrificed himself to protect me.

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I awake with a gasp, my eyes fluttering open instantly. I quietly roll over to see James laying beside me, his eyes still closed and his breathing steady. Confused, I glance over at the clock to see it's seven in the morning, the sun just starting to peek through the curtains. I'm almost never up this early voluntarily, but it appears I won't be sleeping now, especially after a dream like that. But it wasn't just a dream, but a memory. A memory of one of the many times Damon looked out for me, protected me. The thought of him makes my stomach twist and my eyes well with tears. Damon always looked out for me, he always protected me. It just so happened this routine eventually got him killed as he chose to sacrifice himself to protect my humanity, ending in his death.