My head hits my pillow. I roll over and prop my head up with my hand. I look at my little sister. Her cropped hair is a mess all over her head. She yawns and throws and pillow in my direction. I tuckl it under my chin. It smells like her. Like Wildflowers.
“He was just…different. Today. He wasn’t quite-“
“Right?” I nod. “Well. Maybe he just has a lot on his mind. I mean, duh. He is a dude who has a girlfriend.”
I grin. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”


I remember him in snippets, like ink pooling together to form an image.
I think about the way his car heart made his shoulders look larger. The way the white zipper on his hoodie seemed bright and polished. The way his black hair flipped out at the edges.
His brown beagle eyes turned down at the edges. His amazing lips that any girl would kill for.
What was wrong with him today?

My eyes snap open. Through the glow of the window I can make out my seven brothers. All sleeping in the tiny room.
So why arnt i?
The air is thick and smell like sweat.


I slide off my bunk, belly down. My feet slowly touch the floor. Someone’s finger is under my left foot. I look down and still holding the bunk, I pull my foot out over three sleeping figures, and step up to the door. I kick Angelo’s hand out of the way and slowly open the door.
Light floods my face and eyes. I blink. Once. Twice. Carefully I step over the threshold of the room and out into the lighted hallway.
I turn the corner to the living room and spot the TV playing. The TV is never supposed to be playing. Dad said that is rots you’re brains and drills holes in your head. So why is it on?
I step up beside the recliner and smell him.

Beer,
stale chips,


and vomit.
He turns his head up to mine. Stubble takes over his sagging face, and his lips are puckered as if in thought. But I know better than to ever think that he thinks.
“What are you doin’ up?” his southern accent is like rocks in his mouth.
“Heard something.” I shrug. I turn back in the direction of the room and start walking.
“Go back to bed.”
I swallow and I can feel my throat close up over my adams apple. Anger flushes my body and my head roars.
“I. Am. Going to bed.” I hiss. I know I shouldn’t have. I know. But I couldn’t help it.
“Did you just talk back to me?” I can hear the leather recliner squelch in protest as he heaves himself up. I can feel hi hand clamp down on my shoulder.
I yank away, my shoulder yanking under his pressure.
But I’m to slow. Too, too slow.
He whips me around and spits in my face as he talks. “Did you JUST TALK BACK TO ME!?” I can feel the air harden. It tastes like metal. I didn’t see his hand come down.
I felt the after effects. The sharp sting, and the stars imploding in my head.
“No one…” he’s breathing hard. “Talks back.” I can hear the shuffling of feet in the bedroom. My heart hammers in my chest and it’s like an ocean is in my head.
And then there’s a beer bottle in his hand. The next thing I know I’m on the floor, my face bleeding. My head is pounding, pain lighting up to room in different colors.
But mostly crimson.
So much red.
I curl into a fetal position, my hands covered in blood.
I can feel the floor vibrate as Chuck grabs Dad’s wrist and takes the broken bottle away. But not before dad gets in a kick to my ribs.
My breath is gone.
I get on all fours, staring at my nail beds. Which are coated in red. I start crawling, reaching behind the couch. The leather brushes my shoulder and makes a shhhh noise as I crawl past it. I watch the blood drip on the carpet.
The door is right there. I stand up and grab my coat off of the hook. I open the door and run.
I run with my heart pounding and the shouts behind me. I run with one eye closed, the blood dripping into my mouth. Iron. It tastes like iron and salt.
I stumble but right myself and keep going, my legs pumping.
Soon I lose the noise of the people behind me. And in front.
I hear nothing but the pounding of my heart in time with my sneaker feet.

The rain didn’t come until later.
I was sitting on the wooden train at the park, watching the sun set behind the row of houses. I heard laughter and crying children as a party was ending in a pavilion. Balloon’s sparkled in the fading light and children’s laughter was like music floating on the wind.
Someone was walking up behind me. I heard them mutter as they sat up beside me. I felt the air stir and the breeze kick up behind me, blowing their scent on me.
Eve.
I wanted to cry. I bowed my head and hunched my shoulders, my hair falling over the dried blood on my face.
“Hi, again. This is hard for me you know. I have the shortest legs-“
She goes quiet. I can feel her turn towerds me, her shoulder brishing past my own.
I expected her to run screaming. I excpected her to cry or something. Anything.
“Pierce.” I feel her hands on my jacket. I can feel her hands running over my chest, over the dried blood.
I feel empty. Emotionless.
“Pierce.” Her voice is like a low pitched roar in my head. Rolling and rolling around. I wanted to open my mouth to say something. But I couldn’t. Nothing. Could describe this.
“Pierce. Look at me, Dammit!” I blink. Did she just cuss? Out of shock and curiosity I turn my head over to her. Her eyes widen a fraction and her lips part for the slightest of seconds. He looks at me. She blinks and is composed.
She hops down and lands with a silent thud. She grabs my hand. I have held a lot of girl’s hands. Delicate fingers. Soft palms. Small wrists.
Hers is different. She has larger fingers, calloused at the knuckles, and a silky palm. It’s not soft but its not…rough either. Her thumb is the legth of mine and I gently squeeze, testing.
She pulls me off of the train and onto the wet grass. Our shoes sink into the ground and the air smell wet. Thick.
“Pierce.” Her voice is soft. “What happened?” She reaches up to touch my cheek. I turn away and look at the puddles out shoes are in. I can almost see my reflection. My dark eyes through the muddy water.
I don’t want to.
I turn away and start walking down the path, running mostly. Away.
But then she catches up to me and yanks on my arm, twisting me around. Anger washes everything a bleaches white color and her eyes are the darkest ive ever seen them. A deep blue, almost purple color.
“Cant you!” My hands runn through my hair and pull at my sore skin which makes things worse. “WHY!?” I shake my bloody hands at her. I don’t know who I’m asking or yelling at. “Why don’t you leave?” I finally settle on. My hands slap my thighs in defeat. I can feel my shoulders slump.
I slowly turn my eyes up to her face. Over her rounded hips, holy jeans, and baggy t-shirt.
She doesn’t say anything. She stares at me. An unreadable expression painted on her face.
I want to take a pencil and draw a smile on her face. But I can’t.

Because it would look fake. Too fake
to be


too real.
She steps closer. “Do you want me to leave?” She’s short. Her head barley reaches my shoulder. If I wanted to I could tuck her up under my arm and just… sit there. She fits.
“Yes.” I say honestly. “Yes I do.” Because I don’t want her to see me, like this. Bruised. And beaten.
She takes another step. She reaches for my hand and again, clutches it. She pulls my hand. Tug, tug. Two light tugs. My feet automatically follow hers, two steps behind her. Her bun bounces with her steps and my fingers reach up to brush the strands on her neck. She keeps walking. We finally reach the water fountain and she pulls napkins out of her pockets.
“Why are you carrying those?”
Her eyes swivel over to mine. “It’s a kid’s birthday party. You can’t be too careful.”
I wouldn’t know. We don’t celebrate birthdays. Or anything.
I watch as she dips the napkin in the water and then it slowly descends on my face. She starts wiping up the blood. The cool breeze picks up and my hair fly’s forward. She brushes it away, her fingers feather light.
She steps closer and squints, concentrating. Her other hand reaches up and cups my cheek. Her fingers dig into my jaw.
She pulls away to wet another towel. I watch the blood swirl down the drain.
She turns back to me and her mouth falls open.

I hadn’t realized that I had been crying.

My shoulders start to shake and my head throbs harder each second. My throat burns and my knee’s buckle.
She steps forward and slides into my arms, lowering us to the ground. My arms had somehow slid around her waist.
Our legs are entangled now, not knowing which ones end and start where. I can feel her heart beating, or is it mine? My shoulders are shaking harder now, my body melting into hers.
I can feel her hands slide inside my open coat and up my back, her fingers splaying on my shoulder blades.
Her neck presses into mine our hearts throbbing together. I could feel her jaw, and her ear. I could feel her breath and her every movement.
I can feel her breathe out her nose and squeeze tighter, holding on. Her fingers dig into my back.
“You shouldn’t be here.” I remember saying. I remember knowing. I pull back and look into her eyes.
Her blue, blue eyes were startling. So pale yet so… blue. When I look deeper I could see some green and pale yellow in her eyes. The outlines are dark and deep, just like her face. She seems so young, yet… so old. So wise. She blinks and her lashes throw shadows down her beautiful face.
The sky starts to cry with me, throwing cold water droplet down my neck and shoulders. But still, she doesn’t pull away.
Fresh blood falls down my face, turning everything red. Crimson floods the world, stains it dark. But she’ there. Here. With me.

I was crying harder now. Why wouldn’t she just go away?
Like Mom walked away so many years ago.
My hands squeeze around her waist and her hair smells so good. Like something I can’t quite identify. Citrusy yet… soft. And a hint of leather.
I lower my head on her shoulder, my body trembling.
Trembling.

Trem.
Bling.
She was like a stone. Holding me upright.
She was like the rain bleeding from the sky, holding me together.
To keep from breaking into a million little pieces.


Shattering.