A/N: Hey guys! I'm back…sorta. I'll try to update my other stories sometime this weekend, but I just had to post this story. Before you ask, it is inpsired by the Katy Perry song, "Firework." I hope you enjoy it!
Special thanks to my best friend 76 trombones who really helped me develop this story. If you like Harry Potter, you really need to read 76 trombone's stuff!
Disclaimer: I do not own BTR or the Katy Perry song "Firework"
Some people suffer in silence louder than othersMorrie Brickman
They're at it again.
The screaming, the curse words, the thumps on the wall…it's all like a broken record to Kendall Knight. Day in and day out, he sits in his sister's room, rubbing her back as she tries to stop her tears, hoping that each other's presence would be enough to weather the hellish night.
He holds his sister close, his grip tightening on her as the yelling grows louder. As his sister sobs, the sixteen year old hums a few bars of her favorite song, hoping to lull her to sleep. It doesn't work. It never works, but Kendall doesn't know what else he can do to try to comfort her. Truth is, no comfort could alleviate their problems. All he and his sister can do is wonder just when tonight's spectacle would end.
The shattering of glass keeps his little sister awake, her tears increasing with every noise they hear, as they become increasingly more belligerent. Stroking his sister's light brunette hair, Kendall wishes he could stop him from doing this to his family . Though the blonde wills his body to move, he is too frightened to do what his brain tells him to.
He flinches as the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh rings in his ears. Vaguely, Kendall wonders where he hit her this time. He always was scary good at hurting her in places where no one else could see. Feeling a head rest against his chest, Kendall realizes his sister, though only ten years old, knows what their father had just done.
As with most nights, this act ends the fight. Kendall hears the slam of a door and once the silence descends upon the household, he hears the sound of his mother's weeping. After a while, she too becomes quiet. Darkly, Kendall assumes she had cried herself to sleep.
He rubs the few tears that found their way onto his face, his need to remain strong for his sister evident. Looking down, he sees she has fallen asleep in his lap once again, her face red from her most recent crying session. He feels his heart clench as he watches her breathe unevenly, the knowledge that she can only find peace in her dreams heartbreaking. Slowly, he carries her to her bed and gently lays her on it. After pulling the covers over her body, he softly kisses her on the forehead before tiptoeing to the kitchen.
Had Kendall known any better, he would've thought a tornado had swept through the kitchen, leaving utter chaos in its wake. Taking the steps all too familiar to him, Kendall goes into the pantry and retrieves the broom. He lets his mind meander as he sweeps, imagining what had just transpired in this kitchen. He shudders, but continues to sweep, knowing that if the kitchen isn't clean by morning, his father would be upset. Once the garabage was taken care of, Kendall begins to wipe down the counters. His breath catches in his throat as he takes in the copious amount of blood on the counter. With a sickening knot forming in his stomach, Kendall knows it's his mother's blood that he's cleaning up. After throwing the last of the rags into the trashcan, Kendall surveys the kitchen, making sure it was perfect. Satisfied that the evidence of tonight's quarrel could no longer be seen, he slowly trudges upstairs to his bedroom.
Flopping down on his bed, he blankly stares up at the ceiling, his eyes seeing beyond it. Giving up, he allows the tears to flow freely down his face, not even bothering to wipe them away from his pristine green eyes. As Kendall lies in his bed, he contemplates. Why did he bother continuing this vicious cycle everyday? What was the point of his life…to watch his own mother suffer at the hands of his abusive father? Was his point in life making unsuccessful attempts of consoling his sister as she realizes that her daddy is a monster. If that's his purpose in life, Kendall muses, then why bother continuing to live? He doesn't have much going for him, just hockey. But recently, even hockey doesn't seem to fill the void. He knows his friends noticed his change in demeanor, but everytime someone asks, he lies. Eventually, they just gave up, which Kendall didn't mind at all. It's his life, and it's no one else's business. If he can't control his personal life, then why would he bring more people into it? Adding people to the equation makes life more complicated, Kendall reckons. And that is the last thing he needs in his life.
Kendall remembers the knife he hides in a suitcase under his bed. He bought it two years ago when his father first started his abusive ways, as a means of protection. Now, he wonders if he could put it to better use. The thought sends pools of relief in his body, like the ripples a drop of water upon a still lake produces upon impact. But he brushes the idea away. He can't do it, not now. Not while he has Katie, his dear baby sister, to worry about.
With a heavy heart, Kendall pulls the covers over himself and enters a restless sleep, knowing that tomorrow will be just as terrible as every other day.
A/N: So…what did you think? Did you like it? Please let me know, the writing style is so vastly different from what I normally write that it's hard for me to know if I'm doing a good job. And if people do want this story to continue, the next chapter will be in Carlos' POV. So please, let me know if I should continue! Thank you all!