Chapter 7.

Disclaimer: I do not own the mortal instruments characters.

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I stood in the foyer and listened for voices. They seemed to be coming from the kitchen so I walked towards the kitchen slowly and quietly as possible. It wasn't all that hard, I knew every creak in the floorboards making it to the door as silent as a mouse. Cautiously, I opened expecting to be hit with a whirlwind of questions. Instead the room was filled with an awkward silence. Both of them abruptly stopped the conversation and turned to face me. We stared at each other from across the room creating an awkward silence. I started to get angry. I looked at Racheal wondering what had happened. Usually Racheal never kept something from me. But she was now. She wasn't always like this you know. Back before she went to college we were inseparable. I love my sister, the old sister, the one who never turned her back on me and invited me into every conversation. All of a sudden memories started flooding back to me.

I wasn't any older than eight. My sister was looking for someone. We were at a party, it was cold and damp. The smell of mold filled my nose along with smoke, alcohol, and sweet spices. Drugs. I knew the smell instantly, I may be an eight year old, but I was not stupid. I was supposed to be home, in bed, safe and sound, but instead I was in one of her friend's basement. I wondered Racheal would want to be in such a horrible place, she never partied or went anywhere, really, when she was supposed to babysit me. Someone familiar slipped her hand into my tiny hand and I wrapped my stubby fingers around hers. I looked up at my sister, Racheal.

"Racheal," I said. "Why are we here?"

"I'm just dropping something of buddy. I'm sorry I brought you here I know you don't like it. I'll be quick," she promised.

I coughed. The smoke from all the cigarettes and tubes started to get into my lungs. Racheal looked down at me and gave a look full of pity.

"Okay. But can we hurry, I'm not feeling good."

"I'm sorry Simon. I'm going as fast as I can. I just don't see him, but he should be here. He's always here."

Him. It could only be her boyfriend. The one person who could ruin your life with a snap of his fingers. Jacob Taylor. Racheal shouted something at me that I didn't catch due to all the loud music and noise. She took off at a faster pace than before and I had to jog to keep up. Suddenly a doorframe loomed up in front of us. There was a burly teenager in front of the door like a security guard. He was wearing a loose black tee shirt and dark wash jeans. He also had a farmers tan and you could easily tell he was physically fit. Racheal started to speak to him. She mentioned a code and a delivery for Jacob. I didn't know he was talking to me until Racheal put a hand on my head and said my name.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"What's your name little fella. I can't let anyone in this room without id."

Racheal stepped in before I could respond.

"Rick, he's eight," she said matter of factly. "You can't expect him to have an id."

"Then he can't go in."

"It's okay sissy, I'll wait right here." But it wasn't okay. I didn't want to be out here alone. Racheal and Rick started arguing so I just turned towards the door and waited. It didn't take long for someone to notice the argument and open the door. Jacob Taylor stood right in front of me. He looked down at me first then to Racheal and Rick, who had stopped arguing and started staring at Jacob. Jeez they practically worshiped him.

Nobody talked or dared to move, after a while I decided to step in. I tugged on the zipper of my sister's jacket. "Can we leave now?" I asked.

Jacob looked from me to my sister. "What the hell is this Racheal? Why would you bring your little brother to a place like this? What if he told your parents or someone what goes on here? I could get in serious trouble!" he was definitely angry, he walked up to Racheal, staring her deep in the eyes. Then as quick as a whip he lashed out on her and hit her right across her face so hard her head flew back. She staggered for a bit but regained her balance quickly showing know fear.

"Don't bring your brother here again or he'll be next. But why not have a little fun now." With that he turned to me, I had my head ducked staring intently at the ground trying not to be noticed. He reached out with his long slim fingers and placed them under my chin, lifting my head in the process.

"We wouldn't want to hurt a poor little kid," he said sneering in my face. "Would we?" he looked back to Racheal with a wicked grin on his face.

"Leave him alone," she said with a deadly voice.

"Alright sweetheart but that means you take the beating instead. I won't go easy because you're a girl," he added as an afterthought. He still had that wicked grin on his face knowing the answer. He was actually enjoying the pain that was being brought here. I wondered what type of psychopath actually enjoyed ruining lives, physically and mentally.

"Fine. But he can't watch. It's too cruel of a punishment for him."

"Okay, so privacy it is. Watch what you wish for princess, nobody can stop me from doing anything once you're through that door," he said pointing at the door he'd come from.

She actually looked scared but all the same went through the door. As soon as it closed, I collapsed only to be caught by the big burly guy guarding the door. I was crying into his tee shirt as I heard my sister's screams and calls for help. I tried the door but it was locked. Rick was a lot nicer than he seemed. He told me it wasn't right to do what Jacob does but he couldn't go against him. That would be putting his life in danger, and apparently it wasn't worth it. Racheal was not screaming for him to stop and get off her. There were cracks and booms and all kinds of breaking noises.

Something stung me in the side of my neck and when I looked over my shoulder, Rick held a syringe.

"Sorry little man," he said, sounding truly sorry.

Next thing I know I was being lifted and carried away, outside. A black SUV pulled around the corner just as I lost consciousness.

That night Racheal to a beating for me. Jacob drove us back to our house, dumping us in our yard, not really caring what would happen afterwards. I learned later on that I got drugged and tossed into the trunk of the black SUV. I was right, I lost consciousness shortly after being drugged. Racheal was tossed in beside me also unconscious. We weren't found until our parents got home and saw us laying in the yard. They took us straight to the ER. Racheal faced severe blood loss, whip marks on her back, a permanent scar of Jacob Taylors initials on her stomach that was carved in with a small dagger, rape, and a lot of physical therapy, diagnosed with PTSD, broken ribcage from being kicked around, bruised bones. All in all, it wasn't very good, and I felt extremely guilty for all of it. She never swam or wore tank tops or anything showing a lot of skin. I felt horrible every time I caught a glimpse of a scar. She was never the same until college, when she left Brooklyn.

Now I face the new, foreign, sister and the same old angry mother that favorite her daughter over son. To her, every mistake I make ruins her life more than mine. To her, I'm the least responsible in the house and can't keep clean. Racheal is he most perfect sibling in the world and never makes mistakes. Please not the sarcasm. It was too silent in the room and our matched stares were becoming unnerving.

"No need to stop your conversation. I'm just passing through."

"Simon, it wasn't as if we were talking about something you can't know," Racheal said.

"She immediately picked up my feeling about the situation. She was trying to be friendly. I wasn't in the mood for friendly. In her tone you could her the exasperation in her voice, she was tired.

"I'm sorry Racheal, I just think you're overreacting a tad too much."

"It's better to be overreacting than underreacting. It means we care, Simon," she retorted.

"Underreacting, eh. Is that even a thing?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Simon, this isn't a joke," she said, but smiled all the same. My mother continued to stare at me with the most loathing look I've ever seen. Which is a lot by the way.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna get a granola bar and hit the hay," I said trying to get Rach to crack another smile. It didn't work. Oh well, everyone has their off days. That or I'm just really unlucky. Both probably. I grabbed a g-bar and literally pounded up the stairs, trying to make as much noise as possible to annoy my mother. When I walked into my room I set the bar down on my desk and jumped on my bed. Not bothering to change clothes or get under the covers. I fell asleep just like that.