2007
She was eight. Or nine maybe. Physically she was a child, but it had never seemed that way. She grew up too fast, forced to pick sides and fight for what little she could hold on to. The arguments were a regular part of life now, along with the uncertainty that begot them. Today was no different.
They sat in the living room. Her, her brother, her mother, and him. The voices rose and fell and every egg shell she'd spent the years avoiding cracked and crumbled under the heat.
She was a chess piece in their game. She didn't know what was true anymore. She knew he was bad. She knew what he did to her mother and she'd never hold an ounce of love or respect towards him. But she held fear, and that was enough to mold her into any shape he preferred. She said what she didn't mean and added another tick mark to the mental chalkboard that noted her defeats.
But some things she couldn't stand. She wouldn't.
She would never, ever in her lifetime stand by while he threatened the people she loved most. Her true family. She may be afraid, but she wasn't a coward.
She watched her mother storm off. She say his face twist the way it did.
'DAMN IT, RENEE!' His voiced must've carried beyond the acreage their home sat on. Surely somebody else felt the vibration of his black soul rattle.
She made her move.
She put every force of her tiny body into protection mode. She always had. He could hurt her, but no one else. That was the rule.
She rocketed off her seat and put herself between them, as he stalked after her mother.
'DON'T TOUCH HER! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!'
Her throat ached with the magnitude of her scream.
She knew then. The last string that attached some idea she held of humanity or redemption for him snapped. She had seen the ghosts in his eyes. And the truth was, he wasn't her family. He had been forced into her life, and she wouldn't dare let him destroy her family that he had no right to belong to. They were saints and he was the devil, and it was her job to keep them safe. She'd do what she had to. She'd take the responsibility. She had to.
The fight ended. Battle grounds were redrawn. Preparation for the war continued.