A/N: I'm sorry if a lot of things seem inaccurate/stupid, but I love this idea and I just couldn't help myself when writing this! I have my usual OC character Hannah in there and I'm having her be two years old! She'll still be in diapers, but the boys will know how to change her! This takes place in the winter of 1992 and end at the beginning or so of March of 1992. Brad's ten/eleven, Randy's nine/ten, Mark's six/seven and Hannah's two/three. Please enjoy and leave nice comments! If you don't like it, then don't read it.
Ten-year-old (almost eleven) Brad had his siblings hugged close to him tightly, acting as a protector. Nine-year-old Randy was deeply snuggled into his left side. Six-year-old Mark was snuggled in his right side, crying. The youngest, two-year-old Hannah had her face buried deep into Brad's chest, seeking the comfort that their father used to give them.
"Bubby. Me huwt (hurt)," Hannah started crying into her brother's shoulder. "Want Mommy. Want Daddy."
Brad rubbed her back and kissed her head. "Shh, Hannie, it's okay, but if you keep wailing, Aunt Tracy will hear us. We need to use quiet voices, okay, honey?"
Since Brad had become the unofficial adult of them (Aunt Tracy had no interest), he started calling her "honey" and "sweetie". It was stuff their parents called her. He called his brothers "buddy" like their father use to. After their daily (yes, that was daily), he'd comfort them and heal their wounds. He also would comfort them after a nightmare or when they needed it. They depended on him for it so he kept doing it until someone would rescue them. He got nightmares too, but he learned to keep his mouth shut about it, but occasionally, he'd yell. Brad was still a playmate, but he was also the only source of comfort left.
If you hadn't died, Mom and Dad. We could go home and be fed and given love and comfort from an adult like you guys did, Brad thought in tears.
One night a few months ago (in September), they had been told their parents had gotten into a fatal car accident. There was nobody in the car, according to the TV. Brad would sneak late at night to watch it for his parents to be marked alive. They presumed his parents dead so that meant they were now orphans. That meant they needed a new home because they were orphans. Aunt Tracy jumped right on board to the task of caring for them. For a week, she was loving. They got food and water and all the toys they could imagine. After a week, she showed her true colors. They were shoved into one room and weren't permitted out of there without permission. That was rarely granted, so they were room-bound. If they were lucky, they got scraps of food, but otherwise they had to sneak some. She beat them if she caught them with food but otherwise it was to show she was boss. Otherwise, they were alone in their room and allowed to play if she couldn't hear them.
The room they were "given" didn't seem very friendly to them. It was plain white with no decorations or anything to personalize it. They were forbidden from doing any personalization since it was her room, they were staying temporarily. They didn't deserve a dresser so they kept re-wearing clothes. The only way they could get clean clothes was to wash them themselves. It could only be done once a week and lately, Aunt Tracy, would push them into the washer to cause them to fall. A tiny bookshelf (one shelf) held a total of five books. It was a miracle their aunt had not taken the books away yet. Brad had begged her and she relented. They could keep the books since she wouldn't see them. One book was a copy of a journal of letters their mother had written them. One was a family album. One was a tool book and two were books their parents read to them. Aunt Tracy said they only deserved one mattress so they got a king-size one.
They forced themselves to forget about their parents. If they thought about them, they'd start crying out for their parents. When Aunt Tracy would hear, she took them out one by one and beat them. They shared memories quietly and told their sister stories when Tracy wasn't around.
"B-B-Brad?" Randy whispered, his body was shaking from fear. He barely had any muscle on his bones and he was small for as his age as it was. They needed to get help quick or they'd die here.
Aunt Tracy started opening the door but decided against it. He heard her walk off and leave the door locked. They couldn't get out without her opening it or picking the lock with something.
"Yeah, Randy?" Brad whispered back, his arms around his siblings.
"What if Mom and Dad aren't really dead?" Randy looked at him in tears, his voice hushed so that Aunt Tracy couldn't hear him.
Brad gave him an incredulous look. "What do you mean? The news said they were dead and they found their totaled car."
"Yeah, but they said there were no bodies identified at the sight. Couldn't that mean there's even a slim chance of them being alive?"
Brad hadn't thought of that. "Well, it's a long shot, but it could happen. Be quiet, now, Aunt Tracy's coming back. Must be time for our beatings already."
"Bubba? Keep door closed?" Hannah pointed.
Brad shook his head to Hannah. "Wait! What about the bookshelf?"
Randy shook his head in tears. "No! She'd take the books away. Brad, please don't do it! I don't want to lose the books! It's all we have of Mom and Dad!"
Brad couldn't argue with Randy's logic and kept his brothers and sisters snuggled into him. All three of his siblings had buried themselves somehow into him. Randy and Mark were in his sides and Hannah was against his chest. This soothed them, which meant Brad was also happy. When they had been home, he hadn't been as interested as playing with them. Well, maybe with Randy. Anyways, their parents would make him take them to the park. He wanted no other siblings now. He'd be as good of a big brother as his father was. Brad was basically both parents now. He changed Hannah's diapers but also comforted and played with them.
Aunt Tracy wriggled the doorknob and it opened, a bit too fast for Brad's liking. She glared darkly at them, her cold piercing eyes penetrating them. Hannah cried in terror and Randy and Mark hid into Brad. Never had someone gotten them all to fear her as fast as Aunt Tracy had. Her smirk scared them to no end. He saw none of his mother in her. Their mother had been sweet, sassy at times, kind, but was very sweet towards them and Tim. She made them feel better when they cried, she punished them when they were naughty, but she nurtured them. She and their dad played with them and made them feel loved.
"Girl, you first," Tracy bent down to take Hannah but Brad had a tight grip on her. He battled with her, but eventually lost. His grip wasn't strong anymore.
Their mother was strong, but she never yanked like Tracy did. She took stuff away and grounded them, but she never hurt them intentionally. Their dad didn't either. He was much stronger than their mom. He never gloated that he was the strongest in the house. Brad felt horrible that he couldn't protect his sister right away. Randy and Mark needed him right now and if he tried to stop her, she beat people worse.
"No! Pwease (please) stop!" Hannah's tiny voice choking up made Brad cry. He felt so bad for her and he was helpless right now.
"Shut up, you! I wish your lazy mother had never dumped you children on me! She and your stupid father got themselves killed in a car accident," Aunt Tracy kicked her and Brad's blood boiled toward her.
You could've done what they wanted in the first place. You could let Wilson take care of us and give us what you don't, Brad wrapped his arms around his younger brothers and knew she'd come grab Mark soon. He wanted to get them out tonight but they needed to be quiet about it. They could sneak and call 911 when she wasn't home and get the police to take them to Wilson's house.
"Brad, I want Mom," Randy started crying. "And Dad. They never did this to us."
They weren't remotely abusive to them. They never laid a hurting hand on them (not even to spank them for punishments). They'd ground them, send them to their rooms or lecture them about what they did. They taught them that raising a hurting hand to somebody is wrong for every reason. They teased each other, but never did they hit each other. They were extremely protective.
"Shh, Randy, I want Mom too, but she's not here. If you keep talking about her, Aunt Tracy will make your beatings even worse."
Randy kept quiet. Mark looked at him. "What if she kills Hannah? She's a baby. She needs stuff more than we do!"
Brad looked at Mark but Aunt Tracy banged open the door. She threw Hannah in the room and didn't seem to care if she was okay or not. Simply, they were there just for her to keep on beating them. It made the boys mad, but Hannah was still a baby, she didn't understand most. She just understood that it was sad.
Hannah sprinted across the room and ran into Brad's arms. She fell into his lap and started crying into his shoulder. Rubbing her back, he cuddled her close and let her keep crying while he soothed her. Her diaper needed to be changed quick but he knew Aunt Tracy had to be out of the room.
"You're next, cry baby," She grabbed Mark and held him tight on her hip. Mark knew better then to fight it, but he was crying hard. Brad wanted to yank him away from his aunt and get them out, but he couldn't yet.
Their parents never held them like that. He and Randy were too old to be held like Mark and Hannah were. Brad remembered when he was held quite often. His parents always held him gently, but sometimes it was a tight hold. Either way, he never felt any pain when it happened. While they weren't carried often, they were given piggyback rides from time to time. Brad and Randy missed their parents, so they tried not to think about it.
"Bubba, me hungwy (hungry)," Hannah's tears made his tattered Detroit Lions shirt wet, but he didn't care.
"I know, Hannie, we all are. We'll sneak to get food soon." He kissed her head.
Randy looked at him in tears. "If we ever do find Mom, I'll never make fun of her cooking again. I'll be grateful to have her and Dad cook for us again."
Brad gave a smile to him. "Don't say 'if', Randy, say, 'when'. I know Mom and Dad aren't dead and we will find them. We need to escape." Brad kissed Hannah's head and then Randy's, letting Hannah sleep on his chest.
Mark was tossed into the bedroom as carelessly as Hannah was and hit the wall. With a loud wail, Mark started crying into Brad. Aunt Tracy yanked on Randy who was crying and clinging to Brad. Aunt Tracy pried his fingers off and dragged him to the bedroom. Mark and Hannah were crying into Brad.
"Let me go! Stop! Ow, that hurts! Please, stop! I'm sorry!"
Brad winced as he heard another whip from her belt hit him. "You don't say another word unless you're spoken to! Understand?"
Blow after blow seemed to keep hitting him as he stopped crying out. He knew the reason that Randy stopped crying out. What was the use of crying when there was no chance that you were going to be saved? He noticed Mark and Hannah were fast asleep, snuggled into him. They needed to get out quick. If they didn't, they would die here and leave their parents childless.
Randy was tossed into the bedroom and Aunt Tracy grabbed Brad by the hair sharply, her nails digging into his head. He yelped, and it caused Mark and Hannah to wake up and cry out of fear. Randy had the young ones snuggled into him so that they wouldn't see or hear Aunt Tracy.
Tracy dragged him down the hall and he felt her nails digging into his head. Tears blurred his vision as he was fraught with worry. How could he just sit there while he was getting beaten? He knew he shouldn't fight it or his beating would be worse since his aunt hated him.
He already hurt from this morning's beating and he stopped himself from crying. He wanted his parents, but that was an issue to worry about later.
Tracy locked the door and yelled. "Take off your shirt and pull down your pants!"
Brad looked in tears. "No, please, Aunt Tracy."
"Do it now before I make it worse and take away your scraps!"
Brad pulled down his pants and Aunt Tracy started hitting Brad with her belt on his bare bottom, his bottom starting to sting. Brad kept his mind focused on saving his brothers and sisters, trying to ignore the pain. Tears ran down his cheeks. He wanted his mother to run in and push her away. He wanted her to run in, save them and to take them home.
"Please don't beat us tonight! You wouldn't have to see or hear us if you didn't do our nightly beatings!"
Aunt Tracy kicked him in the shins and he cried out. "Sorry, I have to punish you so you know how naughty you are!"
"Please! Our parents wouldn't want you to do this!" Brad regretted saying that.
Tracy smacked him. "Well they're not here now, are they? I hate you the most, but your sister is a close second! You're both annoying."
Brad cried out. "I'm sorry, Aunt Tracy!"
She shoved him to the floor and gave a swift kick to his chest. "Mommy can't save you anymore, you're stuck with me! I don't want to hear that name out of your mouth ever again! Do you hear me?"
Brad nodded as he felt her push him out the door. He ran as fast as he could to the door to check on his siblings. He sprinted in, and she kicked him in, locking the door after he was in.
"Let me see how bad she hurt you. Randy, you first." Brad told. Randy stood up and let Brad check his body.
"She hit me hard. Near my lungs I think," Randy started to wheeze as Brad lifted up his shirt and gently pulled down his pants. He noticed that his bruises were red, black, blue, purple and yellow. Randy pulled his pants up and shirt down. Brad went to check on Mark. "Mark, yours seem to be in better condition then Randy's."
"Brad, I want Mom and Dad," Mark started crying.
"I know, buddy, and we'll be rid of her soon. Honey, let Bubba take a look at you." Hannah obeyed and Brad's heart broke at what he saw. "Your bruises are worse than ours. That does it. We're leaving tonight."