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It was eerily quiet in the middle of the night. The only sounds in the small, thatched hut were the loud, rumbling, drunken snores of Father and, under that, the muffled, soft sobs of Toshiro.
Momo had never heard Shiro cry before. With each sob, she felt something inside her break in tiny fragments until she was crying, too. She pulled her blanket over her head to shut out her brother's tears. It would kill him if he ever knew she heard him cry. It was killing her.
Toshiro never cried before. At least, not to the point where Momo could hear him. He'd never been beat so badly, either. Tonight was the most vicious beating yet. The abuse went from vicious to downright brutal.
Momo had curled under her futon, shuddering and crying as she listened to her father beat her brother. She wanted to go in and stop it, but that would only make Father hurt Toshiro even more, just to spite her. Up until tonight, the safest thing for Momo to do was to play deaf and dumb to the beatings. Her ignorance was the one thing that kept Shiro going. When she ignored it, he could, too. He could look at her and think things would be alright.
Until tonight, Momo had hoped that, too. She hoped that soon Father would snap out of his drunken depression and come back to them. They just had to hang on a little longer, suffer a few more bruises, then their problems would magically fix themselves.
But things weren't getting better. They were getting worse. Tonight was a turning point. If things got any worse, Toshiro wouldn't survive. He'd die under Father's fists. She didn't know if he could survive another beating like tonight's. Hell, he might end up dead before dawn.
Momo's brown eyes flew wide open and she swallowed a gasp. Mother's pale, dead face flashed in her mind then was replaced with Shiro's pretty, bloody, dead face. She couldn't- wouldn't- let that happen.
Things weren't going to get better. They were going to get worse and worse until Shiro was dead. He could be dying right now. Fear gripped her heart and tightened her chest. She wanted to rush to his side and assure herself Shiro would be alright.
But he was still awake- she couldn't go to him, or else he'd know she heard him crying. If he was conscious enough to sob so brokenly, then he wasn't on the verge of death. It didn't mean he was alright, but he wasn't going to die. And that would have to do for now.
As Momo lay in the dark, listening to the loud snores echoed by soft sobs, her slim hands fisted in the blanket and she vowed Father would never hurt Shiro again.
Tbc…
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