Chapter 7

Damien POV

I don’t know what’s come over me lately, but I’m no longer enjoying the cruelty I usually show to my younger

sister Winter. There’s just something about the way that she stares at me, so much pain in her gaze, that I feel a flash

of guilt. If our mother was still alive, then Winter would still be happy and a go lucky child or teenager, but instead

she’s grown up in a house full of abuse. I never used to mind, but lately it has been weighing heavily on my

conscience. My mother would be upset to see the way that father and I treat her. She loved Winter so much. Died

her little

lost count of how many jobs he’s been fired from. It’s quite pathetic really. I know

home. They can deal without me for one night, for heaven’s sake.It’s not like they don’t see me at school every day. Well, at least on the days I bother to go. I rush back to the house but don’t run.The entire time I try to convince myself that everything is fine and that I’m just overreacting. After all,

it? I didn’t even like facing my father when he was on a

recliner, a beer bottle loosely clutched in his hand. Where was Winter? Dread rises up inside of me. Normally, she would already be in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner, but I couldn’t see her

the air and my heart sinks. I know

that I can see. I went round the corner and stopped, absolutely horrified, all the blood draining out of my

there on the cold hard ground and she looks like a rag doll, both of her eyes closed,

color, some of it old. How long had she been lying there like that for? God, what

to me and I bend down and wrinkle my nose at the smell of her blood, relieved to see her chest rising and falling. She was breathing at least and had a pulse even if it

to pick her up, feeling her head draped

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