Living Life As A Younger Brother

Please Help Me

Hello! Sorry for the short chapters. My phone makes them look a lot larger than they really are! So let's get on with this next chapter shall we?
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I start to sob as the mean man drags me to mom's cushion thing called the couch. He pets my hair like Sam, a boy from my class, pets Cat, his doggy that he brought to show the class. I start to sob again.

"St-stop p-pl-ease."

"Ssshh it's okay, just show me your room, aye? Be a good boy and show me your room. I'm not gonna hurt you." He whispers in my ear as he sets me on the floor. He keeps his hand in mine and rubs my knuckles.

I don't move. I look down at the floor and try to stop crying. I don't want this. I just want my momma to love me. I rub my face with my other hand and quickly look up once a door slams. The man, who has kneeled by my side, looks up as well.
Momma stomps down the stairs towards us with her mean face. That means I'm gonna get a punishment. Momma usually hurts me, but this face means a lot more hurt. I start to shiver. The man stays kneeling as mom bends down to grab my face.

"Why haven't you started yet? I want my money! I want my turn! Is he being difficult again?" Momma asks the man.

"No...he's being a good little soldier huh buddy?", Mr. Man gently nudges me, I think gently anyway. Isn't it supposed to mean nicely?
"Then why haven't I heard anything? And why, when I comed down here, aint you not have started on him?" Momma asks.
The man cringes when momma says some parts of the sentence, like "comed" and "aint". I'm not sure why, mom always talks like that.

"Well, I wanted some privacy with him. Didn't want to do it out in the open like this. Seems abnormal, don't you think? Say, why don't you show me his room?"
"Abn-what? Nevermind, I knows what it means. Anyways, he don' get a room. This is where he sleeps if he's good. And well, you seem to have already finded his other room." Momma shows Mr. to the washer room and picks up my bed.

"This is his bed once youre done with him. I only ask you don't get anything on the rug. It's a rule. So if he's bleeding or you don't wrap it doesn't let him on. He gets the floor."

The man shudders and looks into my eyes. They don't look like mom's eyes. They're not mean and cold. Sad maybe. I look down though when momma look at me again. She grabs my wrists, forcing the man to let go, and throws me on the floor. I bundle up in a ball so it doesn't hurt that much. But momma grabs my arms and legs and forces my bundle to fall apart. Her nails dig into my skin through me clothes and I stop struggling when I look at her eyes. They look....like a monster. She tears my shirt off and I hear the man gasp out. I try to scream but momma ties the shirt around my mouth. I pick her and she kicks me back. She kicks my face. I stop kicking and scratching and hold my head. It hurts. I hear the man tell momma to stop as she rips my pants off and my underwear. She gets up and kicks my stomachs again. I try to hide my body but momma doesn't let me. She grabs me and forces me to stand. She put cuffs on both of my wrists and makes the man hold me.

I cry.

The man lifts me up and gold me to his body. I try to kick again, but mom punches me in the back. I cry harder.

"Enough! I've got him! Go back to your room and wait for me!" The man commands to mom who leaves with a huff of breath. He gently carries me to the couch, cradling my body to his. He sits down with me in his lap and takes the gag off my face. He wipes my tears. I stare at him, confused. He brings out weird looking wire that takes my cuffs off.
I just sit on his lap.

**The Mans Pov**

I take the cuffs of the poor child. How could somebody do this to a child? To anybody? I gently grab his arms and rub the chapped skin that had been previously covered by metal restraints. This poor child. I set his arms down and move to take off my jacket. The young boy startles, flinching on my lap. I have to catch him quickly to ensure he doesn't fall and bruise his already too wounded body more. That b*tch will pay. Once the boy is secured in my lap again I wrap my jacket around his scarred, malnourished, and naked frame. I scoop him into my arms bridle style and coo to him as to calm him down. This poor baby. I will take you away from this monster. Grabbing my phone from my pocket, I make a quick call to my commander and then child services. I have all the evidence I need to make sure this child will never suffer at the hands of this monster again. Then, I call my brother. I know that as much as I wish I cannot take proper care of this child. I'm not even around enough for my own children. Though that will certainly change soon I cannot afford to hurt this child even more. I know my brother will have a stable, woman-free environment to raise the child as a child should be raised.

A sob tears me from my thinking and I quickly look down at the boy. I whisper sweet, reassuring words in his tiny ears. I gently rock the little angel and watch as his mismatched eyes slowly loose the battle with consciousness. His tiny snores fill the silence between us as I finally get the chance to profile the young, brave soldier. He's got charcoal black hair that reaches just below his ears. Threading my fingers through the fluffy mess my calluses are met with the slimy, greasy feeling with many dirt and, looking closer, blood chunks. I curse silently. My eyes move down to meet his covered eyes. Long, black lashes create a shadow upon his face and his tiny button nose twitches. Freckles, so small and light that they are almost invisible to the eye, are dusted across his nose and fade across his chubby cheeks. His skin has a tan that surrounds his pouty, pink lips. This little angel is definetly going to be a little heart breaker, I smirk.

Just as I hear cop cars pull to the dreaded address the vile woman slams her door open. I shield the boy from her.

"What do you think you are doing?!" She screeches, sounding as if she had swallowed a little too much. No wonder she is able to vocalize so loud, her mouth is used to being open.

"I am taking this angel to meet his new family. Where they will great him like a child should be treated. You, on the other hand, will hopefully not be enjoying your stay in prison." I introduce to her knowing more explaining will be needed for her small, disgusting brain to comprehend what I am saying as I open the door to allow the authorities to take her away. Of course, she tries to fight and wakes up my precious cargo.

"No! No! He is mine! You can't take him away! He's mine!" The canary screeches as she claws at my nephew, who tries so hard to get away that he is practically climbing me. I quickly and efficiently kick the poor excuse for a woman away while cradling my baby nephew. He sticks his tiny face in my neck and clasps his stick figured arms around my neck. Kicking and screaming the woman is dragged out of the house. I give all my evidence to the cops and walk to my good friends car. No one will touch this angel now. 

After hours of arguing CPS and the cops allow me to keep the child with myself while I wait at the station for my brother and fill in the proper paperwork regarding the boy.

*****
Hope this turns out longer!! Comments and suggestions please! The poor boy has still got a long way to go before he's free of his mother's tyranny but he'll get there! Also, I've tried writing as a child thinks and that's why I may have many errors in his dialogue and so-so!