I was thrown across the room, bashing my head on the counter.
(You little brat!) Our father screamed.
My twin sister cowered in the corner, afraid to move for fear he turn his abuse to her. Her pale blue eyes welled with tears. I staggered to my hooves. He gets even angrier if we lie there helpless.
(I wish I had killed your whore mother when I had the chance!) Our father howled and stalked towards me.
I wiped blood from my nostrils. I may have looked almost exactly like him, except for the fact that I had an eye mutation in the womb. My eyes, instead of green, were a bright, vibrant crimson. Deep, midnight blue fur coated me.
It also made me even more of a target for my father.
You see, my sister was albino, like our mother, with light pink fur that sometimes let you see veins under it.
Much easier to see bruises than my dark fur.
I never understood why he kept us alive. Why he tried to hide the marks.
Who cared about us? Certainly not the Emperor. There would be no repercussions if my father allowed us out with black eyes and bruised skin.
A nasty blow to my head knocked me silly for a while.
When I recovered, he was going after my sister, her eyes full of terror.
I scrambled up despite my protesting head, jumping in front of her.
(Let her... Be. You stupid old-)
I was down in a matter of milliseconds, being kicked and stomped by his sharp hooves. He screamed and cried horrible things, but I had learnt to block it out. I focused on a happy place in my mind.
I looked to my sister, my only solace.
I had promised, swore that I would protect her to the best of my ability.
(I'm scared.)
(I...I know.)
(Are you?)
(...No.)
She nodded, then asked quietly, (Why do you never cry out when he hits you? He likes it more. He might quit faster if you cry.)
I thought for a moment. (I refuse to give him the satisfaction of me being afraid of him.)
(Oh. I can't do that.)
(It's alright. As long as you are able to smile, I will be able to be silent.)
She smiled at me, then sighed.
(But... I don't want to be hurt anymore. Father... Father pushes my head under icy water after he hits me. I can not breathe.)
(Yes. He wants to remove the bruises before you go grocery shopping.)
(...Why, though? It's not like the Yeerks have Child Protective Services. Who will care?)
(Exactly what I think.)
(... Brother?)
(Yes?)
(What if he... What if...)
(What if he goes too far?)
She nodded solemnly.
(He won't. I'll make sure of it.) I embraced her.
(I will protect you.)
When my father was done, he went off into his room. I lied on the floor for a while, just breathing. Focusing on not screaming in pain.
My sister crawled towards me, lying next to me. Large tears formed in her eyes.
(Smile...) I choked.
Her face attempted a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
(T-tomorrow is our birthday, so come on, get up. We can fix this...)
(I am just glad he did not hurt you.)
My sister looked away, her pale eyes bloodshot. (I want to die.)
(Don't think that.) I reached up to her face and traced the crescent shaped birthmark on her temple. (We can survive this, right?)
(No, Spark! We cannot! You cannot! He will kill you before you know it.)
(Frostbite...)
(I am sorry. I snapped.)
(No, it is alright. Can... Can you get the ice pack?)
(Yes.)
Frostbite stood up, stumbling towards the fridge. I winced at the poorly wrapped bandages around her forelegs. He had come back furious, while I was asleep. Frostbite was getting water, then he decided to target her.
A quick slash of his tail to her knees, and Frostbite was incapacitated. That was where she had gotten the black eye as well. Her screams woke me, and that might have been the only day ever that I attacked him.
He still had fingertip shaped bruises from my deadly grip on his neck.
That's what today was for. His revenge.
(Here.)
My sister placed the ice pack on my lower ribs, where I had taken the brunt of the impacts.
(Frostbite.) I grunted as I sat up. (Let me fix your bandages.) She panicked for a moment, then calmed herself.
(I... I think my knees are infected.)
(Let's see.)
My sister lied down, stretching out her front legs. I unwrapped the bandages. A disgusting red gash went across both of her knobby adolescent knees.
(No, it's just deep, not infected. Hold on, can you get the peroxide?)
She shuddered but nodded.
She returned with the hydrogen peroxide and some cotton swabs.
(Alright, don't make any noise or he might guess what we're up to.)
I dabbed the cotton swab into the peroxide, then around the wound. I poured a slight bit on the edges of the gash, to prevent actual infection. When I was finished, I had her fetch new bandages. I wrapped them tightly.
(Better?)
She nodded happily and grinned. (Your turn.)