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KANE
Fifteen Years Old
Roses wiltedand then bloomed again.
He’d always believed it, but he’d come to hate the vicious cycle of it. The way his mother would grow strong and emboldened, standing up for herself and for him, and then she’d be sucked into the warped world of another man.
They were all the same.
Every time.
Coming off as good guys in the beginning, but it never took long for their depravity to be uncovered.
Kane had developed an instinct to it. Could feel it the first time they met.
There was something filthy lining their underbelly. A trap that she forever fell into.
Kane ached to stop it. To silence the shouts and the banging of doors and the gutting cries that inevitably fell from his mother’s mouth.
To stop the pain. To stop the torment.
To help her. Stand for her the way he’d always wanted to.
To be the kind of man none of these assholes she brought home ever amounted to.
He tried. He tried and he tried.
But she always ended up in the exact same place, the same kind of bastard, only with a different face and different name.
So, he begged her when he found her crumpled on the floor, “Please, Mom. You have to stop this. You have to stop letting these men do this to you. You deserve so much better.”
He choked over the plea, then his heart felt like it was going to split in half when she lifted her head. Her left eye was swollen shut and blood was smeared across her face from a gash near her temple.
Horror and anger vied for dominance, his chest feeling as if it were a cavern.
He’d kill him.
He’d kill him.
“Maybe it’s just always gonna be winter.”
“No,” he gritted. “No. You’re going to shine. It’s time. I can’t sit aside and watch this any longer. I won’t. You have to make a change. And if you won’t do it for yourself, then do it forme.”
He didn’t care that he was laying guilt on her shoulders. He knew she believed he was her only good thing. It was the only way he could twist it.
Grief blanketed her emerald eyes, the gold dimmed with atrocities she’d suffered. “Okay, baby. Okay.”
She climbed onto her hands and knees, and Kane carefully helped her to stand, silently promising her that’s where he’d always be.
Standing for her at her side.
Silently promising that he’d be enough.
This time it was going to be different.
Kane – Sixteen Years Old
“You fuckin’ whore. What did I tell you?”