Always so protective and cautious of how she was treated... She cut her finger? He'd be the first to get her a bandaid. She got picked on? He'd be the first to defend her. She cried? He'd be the first to comfort her.

He was her friend, her guardian, her brother. He loved her dearly, and for as long as he could remember, he always has taken care of her.

He recalled when his mother brought her home all curled up in a pink blanket, a hospital band around her little ankle. He was mad because his mother wouldn't let him hold her, he was three- a big kid- he didn't understand; it wasn't fair. His brother Nate didn't care much for another sibling, he wasn't as interested as Shane. When Shane finally got the chance to hold his little sister, he kissed her on the head and vowed to always protect her.

For a few months after Mitchie made it home, Shane's parents spent many nights sorting through paperwork. During this time, without his parents knowing, Shane would sneak into Mitchie's room and watch her sleep and sometimes hold her. He was always afraid to hold her because he thought she would cry and he never wanted to be the reason she cried.

As Mitchie grew, Nate became infuriated that Shane would spend less time with him and more with Mitchie. Shane tried to explain that Nate had friends to play with and Mitchie was still too little and didn't have anyone. Nate never listened and the two brothers often fought. Eventually their parents added a room to the basement for Shane because they couldn't even sleep in the same room.

With older age, the two got along better and once Mitchie got into first grade and made friends, Shane had more time to ride bikes and go hiking with Nate.

As Mitchie entered high school, Shane was a Senior, Nate a Junior. She was well protected and sought after. Throughout middle school, Shane constantly checked on Mitchie to make sure she wasn't doing drugs or alcohol; when it came to boys Mitchie made sure to never bring them around because she knew if she did, Shane would run them off. As Freshman year got closer, she feared the next few years ahead but was reassured because Shane and Nate were both upperclassmen.

"All ready for your first day?" Shane draped his arm across Mitchie's shoulder. She shrugged, "I guess I'm ready." She spoke nonchalantly. Nate tossed Shane the car keys. "I'll let you have shotgun, sis." Mitchie smiled in appreciation. "You alright?" Shane asked, noticing Mitchie was oblivious to Nate's comment. "Yeah, I'm good." She feigned a smile and grabbed her bag, quickly heading out the front door.

"If you get lost, text me. Love you." Shane patted Mitchie on the head and took off in a sprint, knowing Mitchie would be annoyed by the gesture. She always felt like his personal pet when he did that.

Shane noticed Mitchie found her way smoothly through the cafe during lunch and was pleased to see her sitting with a group of her friends. A few guys sat with them but it didn't cause much trouble for Shane since he knew a few from tennis tryouts.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad was today?" Nate asked Mitchie as they piled in the car.

"It was a zero. I had a great day and didn't get lost. Thankfully Trace helped me to some classes." Nate eye balled Shane- he knew Trace, Trace was the typical tattooed, bad boy, sex god that all the girls liked. Shane tightened his grip on the wheel. "Mitchie, Trace is a bad guy. He's into drugs and sex and he's nineteen." Shane spoke as calmly as his voice would allow.

"He walked me to two classes. Chill. I probably won't see him again." Mitchie explained, trying not to pick a fight. She didn't particularly like Shane's opinion and frankly, she didn't ask for it. She fought the urge to scold him all the way home.

Shane was going from a meeting in the gym to his calculus class when he spotted Mitchie being escorted by- you guessed it- Trace.

"I'll take her to class, if you don't mind." Shane spoke through gritted teeth, faking a smile in Trace's direction. Trace stepped forward, "I do mind, we were having a conversation." Shane rolled his eyes, "She won't give you anything Trace, back off." He smirked, "I didn't ask her for anything. We were talking."

"And next time you'll try and get in her pants."

"Shane!" Mitchie spoke up, pulling Shane aside.

She gave him a stern look, "I warned you." She rolled her eyes, "Don't make me mad at you. Unless he actually does something to harm me, he's harmless. Leave it alone, for me." Mitchie was pleading, how could he say no?

"Knock knock." Mitchie stood outside Shane's bedroom door. "Come in." He scribbled a few more sentences down for his English paper before looking up at her. She was dressed in a blue blouse that hugged her breasts and hips, a skirt that rode way to high on her thigh and heels that made her look like a stripper.

"Mitchie, what is that monstrosity of an outfit?" She smirked, "Hush. I wanna be a prostitute for halloween. Does this suffice?"

"I will never allow you to wear that outside this house. You look trashy."

"Yes or no Shane?" She gave him an irritable look.

"No. Go change and let me burn that outfit, please." Shane half joked.

She walked out of my room and Shane wondered idly if she was telling the truth. Halloween was still two months away. Did Trace somehow put her up to this?, he thought.

Shane tried not to dwell on the matter and he finished his homework.

After dinner, Mitchie retreated back to her room quicker than usual so Shane, curious as ever, followed. He went to walk in when he overheard Mitchie on the phone, to his advantage the other person was on speaker.

"Are you still on for tonight? There's a party at my place. I can pick you up whenever though." It was clearly a man, Shane struggled when thinking of who it could be.

"I'll call you when everyone is asleep. I'm sorry about earlier today. My brother can be overprotective."

"It's cool. I know I got a bad reputation but I'm definitely not the type of guy who sleeps around. Truth is, I'm still a virgin. Just because I got tattoos everyone thinks they can slap labels on me."

It clicked then for Shane; it was Trace. Shane moved to his room and thought of how he could stop Mitchie from going to the party. Obviously Trace was sweet-talking her. Not a virgin, what a joke.

Mitchie checked all the rooms to be sure everyone was sleeping. After she checked Shane's room, and Shane knew she was occupied in the bathroom doing her makeup, he moved quietly to the downstairs and then to the porch where he'd be waiting for her to leave. He tried to reason with himself, he wanted so desperately to be angry with her but he knew that she was being played by Trace and was being pulled in by his fishing hooks. Shane settled on being angry with Trace. Mitchie was so innocent, so frail and in denial. She didn't know much better, it was his duty to protect her when no one else could. And protect her he would.