When I entered my house after work on Saturday, this weird feeling spreading through my body refused to leave me. It was quieter than usual, darker.

Jacob was nowhere to be found.

I started opening and closing doors at the house, looking for a clue that will magically lead me to my little brother. With every empty room, the concern was building up along with the uncertainty.

I somehow ended up in the kitchen, holding a glass of water to my mouth with my shaking hands.

I should have known that the kitchen was the place I had to avoid at all costs. The kitchen was always my father's favorite place for fighting with me. I could feel his presence behind me like I always do. I expected his harsh words, his cruel comments.

But never in my whole life did I except the sharp pain taking over my body once he pushed me down on the floor. He took the opportunity without wasting a single second. His hands covered my neck, applying more and more pressure and slowly chocking me. I tried kicking him, I tried screaming. But my father- my own blood, kept on applying pressure, never letting go of my neck. Did he choke Jacob too?

Oh no. Dear God, no.

"Where is your mother?"

His eyes were empty and dark. I have his eyes, and I hate him for it.

But our eyes were so different at that moment, that simple words can't even start to explain it. It's scary how the color can be so similar, but everything else (such as freaking feelings) is what makes the eyes what they truly are.

It doesn't matter the color of your eyes.

What matters is the emotions and feelings you hold inside them. As long as you love and care for others, as long as you are being a good human being in this cruel world, your eyes worth more than you could imagine.

"Where is she?" he screamed in my ear.

I was fighting for air.

How did he want me to respond with his bare hands chocking me?

Black dots came into my sight, what felt like my last breath was forming in my throat, ready to be released.

Then, everything seemed easier, lighter. I wasn't struggling anymore. I was free. After all of these years, I was finally free.

The black dots disappeared, and I saw Jacob looking down at me.

Is he dead too? Are we in heaven together?

"Skylar, are you ok?"

He was holding a cooking pan up high. Tears were streaming down his beautiful face along with his naivety.

I tried getting up from the floor while watching who used to be my father laying next to me. It was difficult getting my head around the two facts that first, I am not in heaven, and second, my little brother saved my life.

"Jacob-I-I- are you- I- oh God," I stumbled at least twice before I reached him and hugged him tightly. I was a shaking mess.

"Are you mad at me?" he whispered to my beating chest.

"No, Jacob, I love you. I love you so much."

I was determined to hold him close, but no matter how close he was, it wasn't enough. The need to protect him flew to insane levels.

"I was looking for you," I wiped the tears away from his face after I released my firm hold on him. He grabbed my hand gently, leading me to my room. He then pointed at his hiding spot.

He was hiding beneath my bed. I wanted to die.

"That's a good hiding spot," I smiled at him, stroking his hair peacefully.

"I know, I always hide here when he gets angry," he announced proudly.

Don't you dare cry in front of him, Skylar.

"Jacob, go get your blanket and your pillow from your room, okay?"

He gave me a weird look before he disappeared to do as I said.

"Oh, and bring with you some clothes."

~~~~~~~~~

At night, I listened to Jacob breathe beside me. When he was too busy with the tv, I put some food and water in his room and locked my father inside. I had no clue what to do with him but decided that for now, he better be locked inside a room than have access to any of our rooms.

Just thinking about it gives me goosebumps.

The sleep didn't cooperate with me at all that night. My neck was killing me, and I knew that a big blue bruise will appear the day after.

~~~~~~~~~

"She is here, but don't wake her up."

"Okay, little guy, go make yourself a sandwich. Practice today was tough."

I opened my eyes as soon as I heard Noah's voice in my room. The burning sun made me regret the reckless action, but I forced myself to keep my eyes open.

Noah was standing at the entrance of my room, observing the space around him. He was wearing an Adidas sports uniform, and his arms were crossed against his chest.

When he moved his gaze to me and found me staring at him, he almost jumped on his spot.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him and flinched as a result of the pain it caused in my throat. I remembered the events of yesterday and brought the blanket to cover my neck.

"Jacob told me everything. Stop hiding your bruise, I want to see it."

"No, no. I don't know why you are here Noah, but you should leave."

But Noah did the exact opposite. Instead of letting me drown in my misery for one single day, he came to sit next to me on the small bed. He smelt like a mix of cigarettes and lemons and radiated warmth and comfort. I wanted to lay my head on his chest and cry my eyes out.

I didn't. I couldn't let myself, especially with him.

He pulled the blanket away slowly from my freezing body to reveal the bruise. He breathed hard at the sight and studied my eyes. His eyes had the deepest shape of green. His lips were so full and red.

He was so beautiful.

"Are you feeling okay?"

He pulled me out of my trace, and I nodded in embarrassment, hoping that he didn't notice how I was checking him out.

Since when do I check Noah Adams out?

But could you blame me?

He is my house, sitting on my bed, asking me if I am feeling okay.

"Pack your things Skylar, we are going home."

"What do you mean?"

"Pack your things, princess, before I break something."

"But what about Jacob?"

"He is coming with us." 

~~~~~~~~~

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