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My arm tightens around Naomi.
I must have misheard my mother.
She’s not affectionate, and can be mean sometimes. But she’s not cruel. These words can’t belong to her. I don’t believe the cruelty in them.
Naomi cries harder.
My chest tightens painfully.
I think…
I’m going to be sick.
“Make her stop!” my mother screams.
I lurch forward, my feet moving before I can stop myself. Running out of the trailer, the door slams behind me, but I don’t stop running until I’m far enough, away from the trailer, until my lungs burn and my body tires.
Naomi is quiet in my arms, and I bring her closer to my face, holding her wet cheek against mine. “I have you. I promise, I got you.”
I’ll never let her go.
Never.
I think I remember a time when she was a good mother — caring and protective, sweet and patient. But maybe that time was just an illusion I created in my head.
Once I’m done with Naomi’s hair, I give her a pat on the head. “Okay, done. Stand up and let me see.”
She does so, and gives me an extra happy twirl. Her two pigtails are slightly sloppy, but I think she looks even cuter with them.
Naomi raises her arms over her head, and her round little belly pokes out from under her shirt. A shirt that’s too small for her now. I make a mental note to make a run to the thrift store tomorrow. I should be able to find something cheap.
I look down at my own faded shirt. The kids at school mock me — trailer trash, they’d say, snickering as I walk by — but I’m used to it now. Opinions of strangers don’t affect me anymore. I only care what my sister thinks of me and to her — I’m the slayer of dragons.
It’s the only thing that matters.
I know I can’t afford to get both of us clothes. Not with the little money I get from working part-time at the junkyard. Kenan doesn’t pay me that much. What I get is barely enough to feed us bread and cheese. I’ve made sure to carefully hide the money from my mother.
“You look like a princess,” I praise, and Naomi’s little face instantly lights up. I swear I’d burn the world down for that innocent smile.
When I stand up, she rushes over to me and wraps her arms around my waist. My throat closes up, emotions clogging my senses.
Sometimes I wonder why I was given such a cursed, worthless life.
Sometimes I think it’d be so much easier if I ran away.
But Naomi is here.
So I can’t leave this place behind.
We share the same parents and experiences. But the thread that binds us goes beyond our shared blood. It’s her innocent adoration for me and my utter devotion to her that keeps us linked. Our lives are interwoven in the most sacred of ways — the innocent bond of siblings.
The greatest gift our parents gave us is each other.
And as long as she is with me, I’m not lonely.
CHAPTER THREE
Colton — 15 years old (Freshman year)
