Roger stared at the clock-radio, the vivid, red letters bearing hard into his sleep-laden eyes. 12:47 PM. He didn't know why he was awake; the night had been uneventful. He hadn't had to throw himself in front of Matthew's fists, and was hoping to keep it that way. The welts and bruises from the night before were beginning to take their toll on his body, and he wasn't sure if he could take much more.
He wrestled with guilt at his thoughts. He was sacrificing himself for something important. It wasn't like he was flying blindly around the playground, picking out fights with every punk he saw. He was protecting his family from 'unnecessary evils', as his father would have said. Roger had seen too many unnecessary evils for comfort, and he was beginning to wear thin. Too many more nights like the night before, and he wouldn't be around to protect Annie and Adam, to protect Mom.
"ROGIE!"
Roger's thoughts flew out of his mind, as Annie's scream shocked him back to reality. Below him, he felt Adam wince, and he scrambled off of his bunk and out into the hall.
"Shut up," Matthew was hissing. Roger struggled to see around the older man's hunched shoulders, but he could see Annie's chubby little legs. They were shaking.
"ROGIE!" she screamed again.
Roger heard Matthew's zipper drop, and he snapped. He forgot about his swollen legs and back, the bruises on his arm and dashed at Matthew, the same way he had run at Bryan the day before. His body slammed into Matthew's, causing his step-father to collapse onto the floor. Roger crawled off of him, and inspected his sister. She was in tears, and had been stripped of her pajamas, but Matthew hadn't had the chance to do anything to her.
"Annie, sweetie, are you all right?" Roger whispered, kissing her forehead.
Annie wrapped her arms around Roger's neck, "Rogie, I-I scared. Matt-ew... he-he..."
The sensation of his sister's tears on his shoulder was a familiar one. Roger loosened his grip. "It's all right, honey. It's okay. You're okay."
Annie let a little sob escape, "Rogie, I scared."
He let go of her for a moment, and handed her the purple disaster, complete with feet, that was her pajamas, "Sweetie, please go back to bed. I'll be in a few minutes to check on you. I'll bring Mommy too, okay?"
"O-Okay," Annie nodded slowly, scampering back into her room.
Roger looked towards her door, and then back at Matthew, who was laying in a sweat-soaked heap on the floor. He wouldn't try to do it again would he?
Not tonight, Roger prayed.
But staring at the man across from him, Roger knew that it was only the calm before the storm. Matthew's head slowly rose up, and Roger saw the familiar fire in his eyes.
"You little fuck," Matthew growled. He began to push himself to a sitting position.
Roger shook his head, and tried to run for his room, "No...no... no..."
Matthew caught his ankle, and the boy fell, catching the back of his head on the doorjamb, and burning his bruised arm on the carpet. He screamed out in pain as his step-father shoved him onto his back. Roger could feel Matthew's weight on his abdomen as the older man drew back his hand and sent it roughly across his step-son's cheek.
"No...no! I'm sorry!" Roger managed, his voice cracking. He felt a few stray tears slip down his cheek, and more, searing his eyes.
"You senseless little fuck," Matthew muttered, slapping Roger's temple forcefully. "What did I tell you? Huh?"
Roger writhed beneath the older man, "N-no! You- Matthew, please... no!"
Matthew threw his knuckles below Roger's eye, "What did I tell you?"
"Please!"
"Damnit, boy, I want an answer," Matthew continued. Roger heard the click on metal on metal, then the smooth zip of leather against denim.
The boy felt himself trembling as his step-father stood up, kicking his ribs.
Roger knew what would happen next. Gasping in pain, he felt himself being maneuvered onto his already-contused stomach. He felt Matthew rip his pajama bottoms off, and then, he heard the clicking again.
"You fucking say something, now!" Matthew hollered, snapping the belt against Roger's exposed legs.
Roger felt his legs spasm, and tensed.
"Please!" he begged.
Matthew brought the belt down, hard, on Roger's bottom.
"No!" Roger wailed.
"I told you to leave it alone, didn't I?" Matthew hissed, slapping the leather against his step-son's body. "I told you to leave it alone, god damnit, and you didn't listen."
Matthew flicked the buckle onto Roger's back, tearing his shirt. He hit him again, and again, over and over. Moments later, Roger heard the belt hit the floor beside him. This was when it was supposed to end, but, somehow, he knew that tonight was different. He felt Matthew lift him off the floor.
"Please...no... don't hurt me," Roger struggled. His voice was barely existent.
"This'll fucking teach you a lesson, you little shit," Matthew whispered, crazed, in Roger's ear. He threw the boy against the wall, with amazing force. Roger collapsed, barely breathing. His step-father began to kick his ribs, presenting an almost crushing weight. The boy gasped for air. Matthew smiled, kneeling next to his step-son, and dug his elbows into Roger's weakening rib cage. He released his chest, bringing his attention to Roger's face. His hand swept rabidly across Roger's features. He brought his hand down upon the boy's ears, and took his head gingerly in his hands, forcing it, hard, against the corner of the doorjamb and brought it forward, only to slam it backward again. Matthew seemed almost satisfied. He let Roger's head drop roughly against the doorjamb, and with one more sharp blow to the face, it was over.
Roger
lay on the floor, unconscious.
