Broken

Chapter 14

Harry

The light from the tv flickered across the walls, splashing the surface with bursts of color. I dug into the bowl of popcorn next to me, mindlessly watching the screen. I tried to shake myself out of the trance I had been in since the ferry ride last week but I couldn't seem to shake it. I sighed and glanced down at my phone for the eightieth time, my lips turning in disappointment. The doorbell rang and I jumped slightly.

"Can you get my that Harry?" my dad yelled from his office.

"Yeah, I got it." I hollered back. I lifted myself off of the couch, setting the bowl to the side. I opened the door and froze.

"Hi."

There Jean stood in the dim light of the porch. Tears were tracked down her face like the lines of a map, her bottom lips trembling. My gaze immediately glued to her eyes, and my hand tightened on the door. A dark rim of black was painted across her face, a trickle of blood oozing it's way down her cheek.

"He hit you again, didn't he?" I croaked, my voice shaking. I saw red spots before my eyes as she nodded her head very slowly. My fist clenched by my side and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. "Come inside." I told her, holding the door open as she brushed passed. It took all my self control not to slam it shut. I lead her into the kitchen and pointed to a stool. "Sit."

She obeyed without hesitation, clenching her hands tightly in her lap. I rummaged through the cabinet over the sink, pulling out peroxide and paper towels. I wet it in the sink and set the supplies on the counter in front of her. I dragged a stool over and sat.

"This is going to hurt." I said, soaking a rag in peroxide.

"It's not like I can feel anything anyway." she murmured and I paused, my hand mid air. "Just do it okay?" she whispered, closing her eyes.

I dabbed the cloth gently on her face and she flinched slightly. I wiped the blood away, revealing a cut. "It's not too deep." I said, somewhat relieved. "Just bled a lot."

"Well that's good." she responded. "Ouch."

I pulled back a few inches to wait until the pain had subsided. I leaned forward and blew slightly to dry up the medicine. I unwrapped the bandage and applied it gently to the wound, my fingers fluttering over her skin, making sure I didn't hurt her more than I had to. I stood and collected the trash in my fist, dumping it in the garbage bin.

"This is the second time this month." I stated flatly, turning to look at her.

"I know." she said. "He wasn't supposed to be home. But he came in and he was drunk as usual. He went on and on about how I was leaving him just like mom and then he-" she stopped, fidgeting with her jacket zipper. "I came over here as fast as I could."

Anger boiled inside of me with a magnitude so great I felt like it would suffocate me. "Why weren't you at your grandmas?"

She stood. "They took her. The nursing home people did. Said she wasn't in a right enough state of mind to stay. I was allowed to stay in the house because I'm eighteen, but I needed more clothes from home."

"I'm calling the police."

She closed her eyes and ran a hand over her forehead, her face burdened and heavy. "Don't. You know I don't want the police involved."

"So, what, you're just going to expect me to sit back and watch him beat you again?!" I asked incredulously, my voice raising.

She held up her hands, her expression shifting to determination. "You don't have to okay? I'm not going back there again."