As the bus pulled away, I could already hear the shouting from inside my house. Not that this was unusual; it was just even louder than it had been lately. As I walked, I felt my shoulders automatically hunch down and the smile leave my face, as it always did when I entered my house. It was the easiest way to pass through unnoticed. By now, I was used to it.

I had only had to ride the bus because Edward was gone already when I left class. I was attending summer school and so was he; it was the only way to escape our home and the fighting. From the minute I'd seen that our truck wasn't there, I'd known that afternoon wouldn't be good.

Edward only left me behind when our parents called him home early, which only happened when they were really pissed off. I shuddered to think of the bruises he would have to hide tomorrow at school. But one more year, and he would be free to leave, except that he wouldn't. He refused to leave me behind, and kept saying that he wasn't going anywhere until I could lave too. But our parents had never hit me, only him, and never for a good reason, as if one existed.

I opened the door as quietly as I could, the out coming voices slamming me in the face like a harsh wind. I entered, closing it behind me, and made my way toward the kitchen. I had to cross it to get to the stairs.

As I went through, I glanced Edward's way. He was face to face with my dad, his eye already turning black, but just like always, I couldn't understand what they were fighting about. The words all blurred together in my head.

"Elaine!" I heard my dad's voice yell, and I cringed, halting mere feet from the steps. I turned to face him. "You're next! Don't move!"

The part of me that knew I'd done nothing wrong wanted to ask why, but the part that knew my dad all too well didn't say a word, so I just nodded.

"El, go upstairs." Edward said.

Our dad gave him a lethal look, and they were into it again. I didn't know whether to stay or go, but it was more risky to disobey dad, so I stayed put.

"Go upstairs!" were the only words I understood in the endless babble. Edward's voice, of course. But then, there was a loud pop as my father punched him square in the jaw. He spun around, but did not hit the floor. He was almost as big as my father now, and it was harder to get him down. Nevertheless, it was the hardest I'd seen my dad hit Edward, and I was angry all of a sudden, tired of hiding in the corner and watching my big brother be hurt.

"Dad!" I threw my book bag to the floor and ran to Edward's side. "Leave him alone. He didn't do anything wrong!"

I'd crossed my line. Defiance, when my father was like this, could often be a deadly error.

In one movement, quicker than most drunks could move, even quicker than my eyes could register, my father pushed Edward roughly aside, with such force that he flew to the opposite wall. After that, my memory consists only of feelings. First, a flat smack across my face, then hard knuckles on it. When it hit, there was no pain, but once the fist had passed, blood flowed to the area, my nerve endings sending a speedy message to my brain that said "scream, cry, this hurts!"

I would like to have said I didn't listen, and kept my footing like Edward, but I didn't. It was like I fell asleep and woke up on the floor. I was just all of a sudden…there. And then the tears came as I hugged myself into a ball on the kitchen tile. I had been stupid, and now I had the bruise to hide. But by God, I'd stood up for once, and for my brother.

Suddenly, Edward was there with me, picking me up off the floor and dragging me out the door.

I may have crossed dad's line, but he had crossed Edward's.

He uttered a few profane words and called my dad something I need not repeat, then led me to the truck and helped me into the seat. As he walked around to the driver's side, I curled my feet up in front of me and turned my back to the window.

The tears had stopped, but I could still feel the light wet trails on my cheeks as Edward got in and cranked the truck.

I woke up an hour later, heading west on the interstate. I was still curled up in the same position.

Edward seemed to have calmed down, though I could tell by his face that what had happened was still echoing through his mind. I could tell my questions would get short answers.

"Where are we, Edward?"

"The state line."

"What time is it?"

He glanced at his watch. "9:00."

For the first time, I noticed the veil of darkness outside.

"…Where are we going?"

"Texas."

I laid my head back on the seat.

"Do we have enough money?"

He was silent, then "a little."

I turned away from him, facing the window.

"I'll take care of you, El. I promise."

"Did we have to run away?"

"Yes." The quickest answer yet.

"Why?"

"Because he hurt you."

"He hurts you all the time."

"I'm different."

"Why?"

"Because I don't have to watch me get hurt."

We passed a sign that said 'New Mexico Desert, 100 miles.'

"We're going through the desert?"

He nodded. "It's quicker."

"So you promise where we're going will be better?"

"Yes."

That was good enough for me. My brother never broke a promise.