I lay there on the floor, blood trickling from my nose and mouth. I slowly sat up and checked myself for any serious injuries. Except for a few bruises, and maybe a cracked rib or two, I would be all right. I gingerly picked myself up and sat on the bed. To say that Will was upset wouldâve been an understatement. He was furious no doubt about that. He attacked me and beat me to a bloody pulp. He couldâve easily killed me but somehow he stopped himself and left.
Once I felt able to stand I went to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. Then I went down to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich. After I finished eating I made another sandwich and headed upstairs. I found myself at Aaronâs door. I opened it and walked in. As usual he was lying in his bed staring up at the ceiling. I moved across the small room and sat down at the edge of his bed. He looked up at me with fear in his eyes. I couldnât exactly blame him for that. I offered him the other sandwich. At first he eyed me with suspicion, but then he cautiously reached out and took it. He devoured it like he hadnât eaten in days, which, knowing our father, he probably hadnât.
He looked back up at me, and this time he took notice of my beaten face. This time he had a puzzled expression. He reached out and touched my face. I grabbed his wrist and took it off. âDonât worry about it,â I whispered.
I moved closer to him. I put my hand on his bare chest and felt his heartbeat. Its rapines gave away his fear of me. I couldnât deny that he had a good reason to be. All of his life he was treated like a toy, something that existed for our amusement. Recently he had been used as a sex toy. But he wasnât a toy he was a person. He loved me more than I had a right to be loved.