Chapter Four

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Leigh-Anne

"No! No, please!" I cry out loud, tears streaming down my cheeks while I desperately kick myself away from the drunk man. "Stop runnin' 'way from me, you li'le twat!" He demands, grabbing me by my ankles and dragging me towards him.

I wrap my arms around the table leg, making it scrap against the wooden floor. I kicked and screamed as I feel my grip loosen under my sweaty hands.

He suddenly lets go of my ankles and before I could curl under the table, he storms over to where my head is and began prying my fingers off roughly. "NO! NO! NO! STOP!" Once he successfully got them off, he scoops me up my my arms and held me to him.

Where's Y/N??!!

New tears formed in my eyes as helplessness and terror takes over me. He carries me to the living room and throws me on the floor; I land awkwardly on my ankle. I whine at the throbbing pain, cradling my foot then I look up.

He sets the beer bottle on the coffee table before slowly approaching me. "What did I say about runnin' 'way from me, Annie?"

I couldn't answer. I just sat there, hugging myself and trembling while little whimpers escaped. His face then contorts into anger and he raises his hand. It comes down like lightning, making a flash appear behind my eyelids when he strikes me.

I cry, holding the side of my face that he hit.

"If I ask again, you'll regret not answerin'," he growls lowly.

Where the hell is Y/N?!

"Y-You said that... it'll only get worse," I hiccup, rubbing the sting on my face away to no avail. He smirks, "Good girl." I watch as he starts to undo his belt and I suddenly felt sick.

"Now, continue to be a good girl."

———
I wake up abruptly, feeling yesterday's meals come up my throat. I throw myself out of the bed, gagging as I make my way to the door. "Leigh-Leigh?" I hear my sister's voice call out.

I throw the door open, speeding towards the toilets at a familiar pace. I could hear Y/N following close behind. I finally get to the bathroom and got to a stall, immediately releasing into the toilet. My chest felt tight and burned as everything came out.

Y/N comes in and rubs my back soothingly, placing a kiss on the side of my head. "I'm here, baba. I'm here," she says softly.

I gasp and cough into the bowl, still feeling bile race up. She continues to whisper to me, "It's okay. It's okay."After what feels like an eternity, I was done. I turn to her, shaking from the lack of energy.

Y/N grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and proceeded to clean me up before throwing the tissue away in the toilet and flushing it. While catching my breath, my nightmare flashes in my mind and tears began to well up in my eyes.

She wraps her arms around me protectively, rocking me side to side. "It's over. It's all over. He can't get you anymore," she says as I cried. I grip onto her night shirt, burying my face into her chest then broke down.

I know I'm running her exhausted every other night with this and I feel terrible. I feel like a burden.

Since we were younger, Y/N dedicated her life to protecting me and she shouldn't. She shouldn't be taking care of me the way she does. I should be fully capable of feeding myself, cleaning myself, and making sure I sleep right.

That shouldn't be her responsibility.

She isn't my parent. She's my twin sister.

With that thought in my head, I unclench her shirt and move away. Confusion swirls in her, jade green eyes. The dark circles under them didn't go unnoticed.

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