Badly Burned

3. Powerful or powerless?

The few people I've interacted with and met say that I'm a glass half empty kind of girl. Or pessimistic type person. I never see how. The way I look at it, is are you powerful, or are you powerless? And I face the facts. In my dad's home..?

..I can't hold what he does...

~~

I sit up in my bed, panting heavily as sweat drips down my forehead. It trickles to my lashes and falls into my eyes, stinging them a little. "Damn nightmares," I curse under my breath, wiping my face with my sheet. I look about my room. The sunlight peeking in through the windows. I look at one of the only things I was allowed on my walls: a calendar. I have a few papers I put up there. But, I have to run them all by dad before I can. Otherwise he'll find a way to punish me.

Today is the day I start packing. Packing for what? That's what I'd like to know. My father told me a few weeks ago to pack up for something that was happening today. 'Grab everything you can. I want no trace that you were ever here,' is all he told me. It makes me think he's getting rid of me finally. To be honest, I'm glad. I can finally leave this place. I just wish I could take mom with me. But it'd be impossible for me to do with him watching me like a hawk.

"Are you awake yet?!" someone yells from the stairway. It sounds like mom, but I don't wanna take my chances that it's dad.

"Yes. I'm awake. I'm getting dressed right now," I say throwing my blanket off of me. I stand up and run to the closet at the end of my bed. I throw open the door and look inside. My clothes aren't top notch. Just some threads to keep me covered. I take down a plain grey t-shirt and some jean shorts. Simple enough.

Taking the stairs two at a time I reach the second floor of our house. I pause as I look towards my brother's room. 'I wish he was here. He could save me from this nightmare..' I think as I go the rest of the way downstairs. I peek into the living room and see dad passed out on the couch, meaning it was mom that made sure I was awake. I look towards the kitchen and let out a startled gasp.

A fleeting glance of dark red hair leaves through the laundry room door. I look at my dad and he just snores loudly as the TV makes static noises in the background. I race towards the red I saw, turning the corner to find nothing. My brother was (is?) a redhead. I remember because I pulled his hair a lot. Or attempted to do it. Like putting in ponytails or what I called a braid. A sad smile creeps onto my face as tears form in my eyes. Darn these stupid tear ducts and sad memories.

"Mel?" someone calls. I turn around to see my brother kneeling in the kitchen by the stove. He wears a navy shirt, black pants and some grey tennis shoes I've never seen before. "H-h-help," he croaks. His voice was severely hoarse. Like he hadn't drunk anything in a couple weeks. Clutching his right side he falls over on the left hand, coughing. His clothes are dirty and his hair is messy and matted. I cover my mouth and close my eyes. I've never seen him this hurt before. Running to his side I quickly help him up and we walk to the stairs quietly.

"Are you okay?! What happened?! I thought you left me!" I say as quietly as possible. He grimaces as we walk to the bathroom upstairs.

"D-don't worry little Melody. I'm...fine. Promise," he replies weakly. My chest aches to hear him speak. "And I would.....never leave you....willingly."

"Willingly?" He groans in pain when we reach the top and almost collapses. "Hey, I got you," I whisper soothingly. "Just like always." I smile and he looks at me through the mess of his hair, smiling back.

"Thanks lil sis." Leaning on me, we slowly make it to the bathroom at the end of the hallway. I set the seat down and gently places my brother on it.