I wake up like I normally do. Without an alarm at the very beginning of sunrise, I get up with my eyes closed and stretch—probably exposing scars and bruises everywhere—and open my eyes.
What the…? Where am I? My muscles tense up at the thought of being stolen, kidnapped, or worse; sold. Not like it's the first time that's happened. I remember once when I "stepped over the line" as he so kindly put it. Bastard. Jeb made around 2 grand for me. Thank God I had let Angel and Gazzy have the room with a deadbolt. Yea, I take their safety seriously.
Yesterdays events come back to me and I realize that I'm at The Martinez house hold.
Oh.
I think about going over to the house to get clothes then change my mind- I don't need Jeb's friend to see me, and I reallydon't feel like seeing Jeb. Well then, that's that. I pick my keys up and drive to Wal-mart.
What? Did you not follow my train of thought? I'll explain one time. ONE!
Jeb's friend might be at the house=Big no no
Big no no=Beating
Or the famous...
Wake Jeb up!
Yea I'd rather not get bruised and bloody today, no thank you. I pick out an outfit of a kind-of flowy kind-of not sundress—it was pretty high class for Wal-mart—that is pink, purple, and blue for Angel.
While Gazzy got a green shirt that says, "Free video gamer. Needs to be fed 3 times a day and a playstation3." And white cargo shorts that will either be dark green or black on the knee's by the end of the day.
While I stuck with something simple, an off the shoulder top that says LOVE in yellow, blue, and, red with them overlapping each other, along with shorts that come about mid thigh.
And I got this all for a grand total of…*cue dramatic drum roll*
$27.67!
Practically a steal!
Don't you just love it when I share my great deals with you? Oh, well you're stuck with me so deal with it.
I drive to McDonald's instinctively and pick the usual while "listening" to Nudge talk about whatever she talks about. I pull up to the pay window and hand her my debt card.
She swipes the card with precision—probably from doing it so many times—and looks at the screen confused. "What is it Nudge?" I ask hesitantly. Did I overdraw my account?
She snaps out of her stupor and looks towards me "Oh nothing, you just have like a bazillon more dollars than you did last time." I'm pretty sure my jaw hits the floor and a shocked expression is on my face so she elaborates. "You didn't know?"
I shake my head, "Thanks Nudge." I say, my mind already swirling a million different directions. How did new money get on the card? Did someone put it there?
I drive back to the house and listen to Dia Frampton's song The Broken Ones. She really couldn't have wrote a better song that described my life.
I know they've hurt you bad.
Wide, the scars you have.
Baby let me straighten out your broken bones,
All you faults to me make you more beautiful.
I can't help it,
I love the broken one,
The ones who,
Need the most patching up.
The ones who've,
Never been loved,
Never been loved,
Never been loved.
And O maybe I see a part of me in them.
The missing piece always trying to pit in.
The shattered heart,
Hungry for a home.
No your not alone,
I love the broken ones.
You don't have to drive,
With your headlights off.
It's a pocketknife,
Not a gift from god.
Don't you learn of love from the love they kept.
I will be your anchor slowly,
Step by step.
I can't help it,
I love the broken one,
The ones who,
Need the most patching up.
The ones who've,
Never been loved,
Never been loved,
Never been loved.
And O maybe I see a part of me in them.
The missing piece always trying to pit in.
The shattered heart,
Hungry for a home.
No your not alone,
I love the broken ones.
Maybe we can rip off the bandage.
Maybe you will see it for what it is.
Maybe we can burn this building,
Holding you in.
I can't help it,
I love the broken one,
The ones who,
Need the most patching up.
The ones who've,
Never been loved,
Never been loved,
Never been loved.
And O maybe I see a part of me in them.
The missing piece always trying to pit in.
The shattered heart,
Hungry for a home.
No your not alone,
I love the broken ones.
I love the broken ones.
I love the broken ones.
I love the broken ones.
By the end of the song tears welled up in my eyes. Not because it was overly emotional but because I'm a broken one.
And I am hungry for a home. A new better home that isn't centered around violence and a home where I'm actually wanted. And I'm broken in every way—emotion and physical.
…And now I'm wallowing in self pity. I sigh. My life is so depressing.
I get out of the car and go into the house carrying the McDonald's and Wal-mart bag. I look over to the clock over the mantel—why they have a mantel in Arizona I have not the slightest clue—6:15.
It's about time to wake Gazzy and Angel up. I send Gazzy to go eat breakfast first, I start a bath for Angel and she finds bubbles.
She looks at me pleadingly, "Angel we can't just go around using people's stuff without permission." I know I'm a hypocrite shut up already.
But then she pulls out the Bambi eyes. Sticking out her lower lip and adding artificial tears to make her look like an anime character. I give Angel a you-will-be-the-death-of-me sigh and she smiles and adds the bubbles.
"Max?" Angel asks about mid-bath.
"What baby?" I say.
"Will you be my Mommy?"
My eyes go wide and I loose my composure for a few moments before quickly regaining it back. "Angel," I say as soft as I can. "Mommy is dead; I can't be your Mommy. I'm just your big sister."
"But Max, you take care of us like a Mommy does. And you protect us from Jeb like a Mommy would. And even though you can't cook you still feed us the best you can, and you make me and Gazzy take baths like a Mommy would."
"That's because I don't want two stinky little pumpkins." I say teasingly trying to lift the heavy atmosphere that has settled around us.
"And I love you like I would a Mommy."
"Angel, I can't be your Mommy." I say as delicately as I can. But I can't help wonder how long she's been thinking this over.
"Bu-but Max." She says her small voice breaking, tears welling up in her eyes.
She starts to cry and I pull her in for a hug getting my slept in clothes wet. "Don't cry honey. Shhh. It's alright." I say stroking her hair. Then a sudden realization hits me—this is exactly what my Mom—and every other Mom—would do for a child in distress.
She shakes her head making her sobs louder.
Fang (POV)
I wake up in a normal Iggy-got-in-my-room way: An alarm on my phone pounding in my ear making me shoot up on my bed. I relax.
I get up and trudge to the bath room where I hear…talking?
"Max?" A young little girl's voice says.
"What baby?" I'm guessing Max says. Wait—baby?!
"Will you be my Mommy?" Mommy?! What the heck are they talking about?
"Angel," Max says softly. "Mommy is dead; I can't be your Mommy. I'm just your big sister." Their mom is dead?
"But Max, you take care of us like a Mommy does. And you protect us from Jeb like a Mommy would." What? Why would Max have to protect Angel and Gazzy from their Dad?
"And even though you can't cook you still feed us the best you can, and you make me and Gazzy take baths like a Mommy would."
She does all that? Just for Angel and Gazzy?
"That's because I don't want two stinky little pumpkins." Max says teasingly but playful. Most likely trying to lighten up the mood.
"And I love you like I would a Mommy." Angel says her voice sounding so small it wouldn't even take your little finger to crush it.
"Angel, I can't be your Mommy." Max says delicately. I can't help but think she sounds like a mother even though she's insisting that she's not.
"Bu-but Max." Angel says starting to cry. I guess Max said the wrong thing.
I open the door silently to see Angel in a bath getting Max soaked through a hug and Max stroking her hair saying sweet nothings. "Don't cry honey. Shhh. It's alright."
Angel shakes her head her sobs growing louder. "It's not okay Max." Angel says through her sobs.
"Jeb hits you, and you protect us, and feed us. And even though Jebs poker players are mean to you, you still are nice to them so Jeb can't hurt me or Gazzy." She says her sobs uncontrolable now. My jaw hits the ground—which I can assure you does not happen very happen—and I gape at the pair.
I still go unoticed as Max pulls slightly back and looks Angel dead in the eye. "I take everyone of those hits so you and Gaz can be safe. I want you to be happy for me. Okay?" Angel nods her head still against Max's shoulder her sobs slowly subsiding into hiccups.
I back up before one of them can see me evesdropping. I close the door but continue to back up until I hit back of the hallway.
Max's dad hits them. He...hits them. And Max goes on being her sarcastic self everyday pretending to be fine. Being strong for everyone.
And Angel asking Max to be their mom... it explains why Gazzy went over to the corner just muttering complaints not complaining about being bossed around his big sister.
Max is a mom to them. Max is a mom to them and she's only 16.
What's Fang going to do now that he knows Maxie is getting abused? Will he confront her? Will he ignore her? What will he do?
Sorry I didn't update sooner I'm just working on a bunch of stuff right now. School homework, writing the school play. Stuff like that. Oh and will you guys check out my other story I Need A Job? It's super short but it's only a prologue so far... But I have to cut this AN short to do "Family Bonding" with my lovely sister. Note the sarcasm. Review please!