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3 Years

She let another punch fly,
The wood took the hit,
The door rattled on it’s frame,
From the next room he screamed again.
She shouldn’t let it happen,
It was her duty to step in.
He was her little brother,
She shouldn’t let him be hurt.

The voices rang out again,
She strained her ears to hear,
“I’m sorry,” the child cried,
It did no good something hit again.

She moved to her bedside,
And kicked the metal frame,
The voices rose up,
And she tried to hide her pain.
She was sure that it was nothing,
At least it wasn’t her,
But it was her brother,
And she should know enough to care.

A new voice rang out,
The words were lost in time,
But the boy yelled again,
And she came her closest to crying.
He had already promised to never do it again...
There was no way he would be heard.

She wouldn’t let it happen again.
She’d counted down since she could count,
How much longer she had to endure this...
The day she turned 18,
She could leave this all behind,
A practical heaven on her mind...
Still 3 years left until she could leave.

This realization made her want to cry,
But she knew crying never solved anything,
She had stopped letting others see her cry on her 5th birthday,
When she realized it was a waist of energy and water.
There was nothing to be done by crying,
It didn’t help when you got mad,
It didn’t calm you at all.
Not that she wanted to be calm...

She took a deep breath as she heard it again,
Flesh connected with something harder,
Most likely a belt,
The sound ripped through the air,
It hit him in the eye,
She heard the sickening squish as it connected.

She kicked the metal again,
Denting it without caring...
Only 3 years...
Seemed like 30...

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