Page 1 of I Saved Him Too


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Prologue

JOSIAH

For as long as I can remember, my head has been full of negative thoughts and voices that are loud enough to silence the good that tries to crawl its way in. One of them is my father’s. I can hear his voice from beyond the grave.

“You’re worthless.”

“I wish you and your sister were never born.”

“Boys don’t cry. Stop crying you little shit.”

The first time my father hit me, I was ten years old. I was playing with my Hot Wheels when a loud bang came outside my bedroom.

Dad’s booming voice followed, and it rattled the little plastic soldiers sitting on my windowsill.

Then I heard it.

My five-year-old sister was screaming, but the more she cried, the louder she screamed. I jumped and yanked the door open so hard it smacked against the wall.

I followed my sister’s cries and found Dad kicking her, standing over her, and calling her names a child should never hear. He grabbed her by the hair, lifting her off the floor. Sadie dangled in mid-air, and Dad cocked his hand back, ready to slap her. Mom came running in and tried to rip her out of his grasp, but he hit Mom with his elbow.

Mom went down with a cry.

Sadie was still crying, her face blotchy, and I noticed a small puddle underneath her feet.

She had an accident.

“Leave her alone!” I screamed, running toward Dad. He slapped me with his free hand, and my face smacked against the floor.

Sadie cried louder.

It felt like he broke my neck.

Mom scrambled to get up and begged Dad to let Sadie go, but he held her even tighter. I cringed at the sound of her cries.

I ran back to my room and grabbed my baseball bat that I kept underneath the bed. I ran back out, and right when Dad moved to slap Sadie, I swung the bat against his arm.

He cried out and dropped Sadie to the ground.

“You little—”

Dad attempted to lunge for me, but I hit him on the head, knocking him out. I grabbed Sadie’s hand, and we ran to her bedroom.

“Stay here, okay? I’m going to get Mom.”

“No, do-don’t go-o pl-please,” Sadie hiccupped through her cries.

“Lock the door and don’t open it unless it’s me or Mom. I’ll be back,” I reassured her.

She nodded and wiped her face.

I left her room and waited until I heard the lock click.

Ever since that day, Dad never stopped abusing us. Sadie got the brunt of it, but I tried my best to prevent it from happening, especially when I turned fifteen. I developed more muscle around then and became stronger than Dad. After that, he wasn’t at home much, and the beatings lessened.

A soft and gentle voice interrupts my thoughts.

“Baby, are you ok?”

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