Ahahaha! Betcha guys don't see what coming in this chapter! By the way, thanks to all you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed this story! It inspires me to write and update faster when I know there are people who actually read my stories! So thank you and keep reviewing!
-swimmergirl103
….
I laid on the scratchy sheets of the temporary bedroom in the court house, restless. I thought about how my life had changed so quickly in the blink of an eye, and how it could change back just as quickly.
The door handle rattled, breaking me from my thoughts. The nurses had locked the door to my room, so that no one would disturb my sleep. It rattled again and I heard a sigh from outside the room. A couple of clinks later, I heard a little tnk as the lock gave way.
Why are people always picking locks to my room? Can I not have any privacy?
The frame of a person stepped into the room. The frame of a person I knew too well.
Jonathon.
I sucked in a breath as he approached me cautiously, carefully.
"Clare-bear? Hey." He hadn't used that pet name since I was nine. I didn't answer, so he kept talking.
"How are you? Are you okay?" I was really confused. He sat on the end of my bed. My expression was guarded.
"What are you doing here?" I whispered.
"Checking on you."
"Why?"
"Because you're my sister and I care about you." I got really angry then. More angry than scared for the first time since I was 8.
"You care about me? You have a strange way of showing it then. All those years of helping dad. Counting tears and muffled screams so he could beat me more. Abusing me with words at school, when dad wasn't even there. You don't care about me. If you did, you never would have stopped trying to help me. You gave up on me when I was little. I didn't know what was happening. And you stopped helping me because you would be hurt. You stopped because dad would hit you once then tell you to get away. Then you would watch as I got five times what you had gotten. You don't care about me." That was the most I had spoken for a while now. If I spoke without a question being asked to me at home, I would be hit. And at school, everyone hated me, so I had no one to talk to. I used to talk quietly to myself in the basement because I was scared I would lose the ability to talk.
I was always scared. From the moment the beatings started, I was scared every minute of every day. I was scared of people and words alike because I knew they could both hurt you. And I would probably be scared forever. I would never really lose my fear.
"Clary, you don't know how much it pained me to see you get hurt. I would've gotten the beatings with you but Dad wouldn't let me. You probably don't remember this, but he would hit me, tell me to get back and when I tried to help you again, he would just hit around me. He wouldn't hit me, but he wouldn't let you go until I stopped. I thought that maybe if I stopped all together, the beatings would get less intense or shorter. And as for at school, I don't have an excuse except that I was an idiot. I listened to my friends. I didn't take the chance to protect you when I could. And I was stupid for that. Do you know the reason everyone didn't like you at school?"
I shook my head, not believing what he was saying.
"It was because of me. I-I lied to them. Told them terrible things about you. I made you sound like the worst person ever. And it worked. They hated you but loved me."
I stared at him, my gaze steely.
"I'm so sorry. I tried to make things easier for you at home. I tried heating towels and smuggling them to you, but Valentine found out and started locking the door to the basement and keeping the key. I did get away with grinding up pain medicine and putting it in your water. I wish I could've done more, I should've done more. I'm so sorry Clary."
I could see tears making paths down his face. A small sob escaped his lips.
"I couldn't protect you. I'm so sorry, I understand if you hate me."
Slowly, I got up and sat by him with my hands in my lap. Inch by inch, my hand made its way to his and took it. He looked up at me, black into green. He let out a breath of relief and wrapped his arms around me, holding me like a starving man would hold a loaf of bread. I flinched a little bit, not used to these touches that weren't to hurt me.
"I'm not going to let anything-or anybody- hurt you. Ever again. We can go back to the way it used to be." But I knew better. I knew things would never be the way they used to be. I wouldn't be able to trust him fully ever again.
"I'm tired. I'm going to go to sleep." I said uncomfortably. Jon let me go.
"Ok. Goodnight Clary. I love you."
"Goodnight Jonathon." I couldn't say that I loved him. Not yet. He was my brother, but he also used to be one of my many tormentors.
I fell asleep thinking of what he said. If it was true or if he was just trying to get me to trust him again.
The nurse who gave me a check-up woke me up.
"You have the day to gather up all the things you want to take from your father's home. You'll be moving in with your mother tonight. Someone will drive you over."
She set a tray full of toast, peanut butter, eggs and bacon in front of me.
"We want you to finish this whole tray. You're a little malnourished, so you're going to be eating a lot the next few days, okay?"
I nodded my slightly. The nurse left. I started eating my calorie-dense breakfast.
Boy was this going to be a long day.