It's the same as always. The same tears, the same scars, the same hurt expression. How did this happen? How could he do this to her? It is supposed to be the other way around. I treat her better than he does. She is supposed to run to him, and I'm supposed to be the abusive boyfriend nobody really knows about. How could her brother allow this? How did this happen?
I remember, one night, many days, weeks, months ago. I was doing Head Boy rounds. I heard the running of footsteps. I hid. I wanted to see who it was. You know, get a little dirt on them, threaten them with it a few times, then use it at the most random person. I thought it would be someone meaningless to me. I was wrong. I saw her run past. Her hair, a red tangle of fire, flying behind her, a trail of blood in the midnight hour. Real blood was running down her face, mingled with her tears. Her arm bent at an awkward angle, obviously broken. How could anyone let this happen? How could anyone beat this angel, break her wings, hold her down? And all I did was watch.
Every Saturday, it was the same. Midnight would come, and so would my Angel, always fleeing from the same place, always fleeing to the same safe haven, one I didn't know. Sometimes she would have bruises on her face, sometimes a black and blue eye, sometimes bloody bite marks on her neck. Always a fleeting vision. Always crying. But one night was different. One night he followed her. He followed her, my vision, my Angel, he followed her and took her, right there in the hall, right up against the wall. His black mop of hair stuck up in all different angles. And there, he defiled her. He defiled my Angel, taking her, pounding into her, listening to her screams and thriving in them. I could see it in his eyes, the lust, the glory, the all-together narcissistic nature of he. She screamed louder than ever and as she collapsed to the floor, exhausted from the many times of "pleasure", he zipped up his pants and left, just like that. I stared at his retreating back. Once I had waited long enough to know he was gone, far enough away that he wouldn't hear me even if I did make a noise, I went over to my Angel, picked her up, and took her to my room. There, I healed her. After that night, she always fled to my room. And I would always heal her. She would always talk and I would always listen.
And this is all wrong. She is supposed to run to him or her brother for help. Instead, she runs to me, her brother's worst enemy. She is supposed to run away from me. The thing is, I know I would never defile her like him. She is too precious. She is my Angel. She did kiss me once, but I pulled away. I worship her. I would never be able to do something like that to her. Too precious. My fallen Angel. My precious.
I called her "My Angel" to her face once, and ever since then, she has called me her "Dragon". The one who is supposed to kill her, the one who is supposed to hurt her. But I won't. She is my treasure, and I will protect her with my life.
Today, she came to me, crying harder than usually. She is pregnant. He hurt her more than he could have thought. And I will get my revenge. One day, I will get my revenge. Because he forgot the one rule. The one rule no one should forget. If you hurt the Angel, beware her Dragon, fore he will bite back even harder. And you won't survive.