Welcome to the Family

3

I ran so hard I thought I'd faint.

"Maisie, come back," Cameron shouted, chasing me through the house. I sprinted out the front door of the house and down the driveway, veering into the wheat field with no clue where to go.

Cameron followed somewhere behind me. I could hear his slew of curses. I didn't look back. I heard cars over the hill, and when I reached the top and viewed the highway, my hope dwindled. I would no doubt break my ankles if I attempted to climb down the embankment. The only other option was the woods.

I glanced over my shoulder. Cameron had caught up to me, stopping about twenty feet away. He huffed, licking his bottom lip, no doubt trying to decide how to handle me. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way," he said, not helping the situation. I felt dizzy and wobbly, but I held my ground.

"A lot has happened in the last year. Let us explain-"

"I don't need an explanation," I snapped, stepping back. "I don't need you. There is nothing you can do now -"

Cameron held up his hands, stepping forward. "Okay, okay," he said, trying to keep calm and slowly closing the gap between us. "You're right. We failed you as brothers. You didn't know, but we were trying to get you away from him. I'm sorry. I am sorry we didn't get to you before -"

"No, no ... you dare say another word," I said, clenching my fists. "I went through hell with him. Micaela too. I didn't need you then, and I don't need you now."

Cameron shook his head. "I think we both know it's not true."

"Yes, it is, Cameron."

"I know you think we don't care or hate you, but we don't. Let me help you, baby girl."

He couldn't help. No one could help me now. I was helpless. What's been done has been done, and nothing can change it. Nothing can change me. I couldn't be saved now. My father beat my mother for as long as I can remember. The abuse was passed down to me and my older sister, Micaela when she died.

He said we deserved it for being ungrateful and being just like her. He beat us because we reminded him of our mother.

Our father was a sociopath. He manipulated everyone into believing we were liars when teachers asked about the bruises on our arms or the cuts on our faces. Our brothers didn't stick around to see the damage, but they knew.

One day, Micaela vanished. Our father said she must have left and run away with her boyfriend. I tried to find her, but he beat me bloody for asking.

I didn't believe him and knew he must have done something to her because she would never leave me behind. When I reported my sister missing. I told the detectives that my father hurt or even killed her. I told them of the abuse. I told them everything, betraying my father and putting myself on the line.

"I won't let anyone hurt you, especially not him," Cameron murmured, taking a small step forward. He seemed sincere.

"Why do you care so much?" I asked and ignored his comment.

Cameron took another step forward, his eyes softening. "You're my little sister. I care about you because I love you. I'm sorry I didn't say it more, and I'm sorry those horrible things happened to you ... but most of all, I'm sorry for not being there for you."

"You have a fucked up way of showing it." I snapped, very aware of the tears flowing down my cheek. However, I'd be lying if I said my brothers' words didn't comfort me. "I can't trust you ... I can't, I just can't."

I couldn't trust him. He wasn't there when I needed him the most, so why should I believe him now? None of them were. There was a darkness in my heart I couldn't get rid of. I tried to fight it, but it never went away.