Tongue-Biter

Richelle's Uncle

I was sitting on my top bunk, holding my baby sister. All of a sudden, I hear my dad yelling. I have only ever heard my dad this angry a few times. He only gets this mad when someone hurts him or his friends and family. I heard Hayden crying and my older sibling instincts kind of kicked in.
I heard my dad yelling about someone balling their fists up at a ten year old and to get the fuck out of his house.
I realized he was talking to Richelle's uncle. I felt anger burn in my chest. I fucking hate that guy. I have since he first moved in with us around two years ago. I'm not typically a judgey person, but I knew from the moment I met him that I hated him. To be honest, I think it was partially because he was in jail for like eighteen years for being a drunk driver. My grandpa, on my dad's side, died when my dad was two because he was drunk and drove a motorcycle into a car, killing someone and himself. Because of this,  my dad is really strict about us driving.
I have a trait that I've picked up over the years. Whenever I hear yelling or fighting, I guard my younger siblings, and even Ashley sometimes. I try my best to protect them and save them the pain. The worst part is that I know there is only so much I can do.
I realized I was holding the baby close to my chest. I don't know if it was to comfort her or me. Kodi came in our room crying. He's always been afraid of yelling and loud noises. I can't blame him, judging by how he's grown up. He definitely has some PTSD. I couldn't stop my thoughts from flooding in. Ever since she was born, I have been terrified that she'll end up like the rest of us. Like her parents. Like her aunts and uncles. Like her grandparents. Like her siblings. Like me. If no one else has a chance, I hope she does.
I never thought about how much I cared about her. I mean, yeah, she is my baby sister. But still. I'm not that close with my other siblings. Except maybe Kodi. They're my half siblings. I can at least help them with half of their problems.
The fight had been over for at least twenty minutes. I realized I was shaking. I shake frequently. I hate it. It makes me weak. I shake and I'm completely vulnerable to everything.
My thoughts are so scrambled right now between home, school, and this weekend. Oh god, I don't want this weekend to come. I have one of those overwhelming feelings that something is going to happen.
I start school in two weeks. Two weeks! This isn't helping my anxiety!
My mental health is going back where it was in seventh grade. I can't go back to that.
I can't.