"Stop, Dad," Jackson said as his father angrily grabbed a broom. "Stop!" he pleaded. He fell onto the couch in an attempt to hide himself into the couch cushions.

Miley shook her head as she woke up from what was a peaceful night's sleep. Couldn't Jackson ever turn his music down? She wondered.

She rolled over and went up and looked in his room, gasping in shock. He wasn't there! What had happened? Why?

She turned off the music and started to straiten Jackson's bed, then shook her head. She grabbed her video camera and wondered what she would find downstairs.

"Dad," she gasped to herself when she saw the scene before them. Jackson was buried in the couch and her father was hitting him with his belt.

The same belt she had gotten him for Christmas. She felt like she might puke. "OK…" she told herself, "Calm down…"

The video camera started to recorded. Miley couldn't bear to watch her brother go through this alone. Without thinking, she walked strait into the living room.

"Dad! What the hell are you doing?" Miley demanded as she saw him. Jackson glanced up and his face paled. No… Not Miley, he thought.

"Jackson disobeyed me," Robby said. "So I thought I would make him understand that disobeying me is not a good idea. Last time I grounded him, but he wouldn't listen, so this time I'm beating him!"

"That's child abuse, Dad," Miley said.

"When you'd darn," he said, slurring his words, "Nothing matters – nothing at all – all the liquor does is take it away, away, away…"

"Dad!" Miley gasped as he fell onto the floor. She raced to turn the video off then raced back to Jackson.

"Please, Miley –" Jackson said, sitting up in his chair as Miley helped him put cream on his back. "I don't want to tell the guys at school, 'hell, I as abused…'

"The guys at school won't mind. If they do – they aren't your friends," She said. "Come on. We have to go to the police station and turn this in."

Jackson sighed. "Why did you have to go get yourself involved in this? He's going to hurt you too!"

"Jackson, I don't care. You're my brother, and I want to do it for you."

Jackson sighed. "I don't know, Miley – I just don't want you to get into trouble."

"Jackson, I can take care of myself. Please, we have to turn him in before he huts you or hurts anyone else."

Jackson sighed. "I guess," he muttered, staring at the floor.

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Next morning, six o'clock am

The police officer glanced at the two teenagers. Miley, a very popular student. Jackson, a well trusted and well liked worker – even if the man's son said otherwise.

He stepped up to them. He hated cases like this. "Hi, I'm Officer James Polk…"