—-I remember that night in the closet. It had been so long since we were both in those small dark hideaways. Usually only one of us gets sent to the closet, more often me, and then Danny comes to get me out. Dad kept us in there the entire weekend.
He let us out Monday morning to go to school. He never had to worry about us telling, we were to afraid of him. I never knew how powerful and fragile that fear was.—-
Georgia had loads of friends. She was pretty, petite, bold, and preppy. She always had a flock of girls around her. You would never have guessed the problems she had from her face.
School started off normal enough. Danny went to his classes and I had started to go to mine when Georgia stopped me in the hallway. “Hope you have fun Saturday.” She said blocking my path.
“What do you mean?” I asked. I always started to worry when Georgia talked to me. She didn’t like me and I knew it.
“You know.” She replied quirkily.
“No. I don’t know. What are you talking about?”
She giggled and leaned in closer to whisper in my ear. “Daddy’s gonna have you on Saturday. He’s gonna have you good and hard.” She backed away. “Danny can’t save you this time. Tell me honestly, does he realize how you use him?”
“Quite talking trash, what do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You use him to get you out of beatings you rightfully deserve. He’s a smart kid. I would have thought he would have seen right through your little ploy.” She grinned ear to ear.
Her words stunned me. I didn’t know what to say, so I didn’t say anything. I just stared at her.
“Oh, don’t stare at me like that. You know damn well that beating Danny Friday should have been yours. He took it for you, just like you knew he would. Just like he always does. It’s pathetic really.” She looked over her should and saw Tasha wave at her. “There’s Tasha. Got to go. Bye.” She smiled as she flitted off to be with her friends.
—-I will never forgive her for those moments of self-doubt. Never.—-
I pondered what she said all day long and well into the evening. Each moment I got more and more depressed. Did I use him? Was I really that shallow? He did take an awful lot of beatings for me. I never took one for him. That beating on Friday night should have been mine. Running away was my idea… After supper I went upstairs and slit my left wrist. I wanted to die, but Danny caught me just after I had finished the first cut.
“What the hell are you doing?” Danny asked as he wrapped his handkerchief around my bleeding wrist.
I cried as I explained that I felt like I was using him to get out of beatings and that I didn’t like what I was doing.
He tilted my chin upward so I looked in his eyes. He had a warm smile on his face as he spoke, “Did Georgia say that to you?”
I nodded my head.
“Mary, you know that’s not true, don’t you?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“Don’t you?”
I nodded my head.
He wrapped his arms around me and squeezed. “We’re brother and sister. We love each other, and we look out for each other. You’ve gotten between dad and I before. You’ve convinced him to let me have food, to let me out of the closet. Don’t you remember all those times?”
I shrugged my shoulders again.
“Don’t you?” He started tickling my sides.
“Yes.”
—-He always knew how to make me laugh, how to cheer me up. I would see my darkest days only after his death.—-
I told Danny what Georgia had said about dad. Danny promised that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me. I trusted Danny and tried not to let the upcoming weekend bother me.
The week went fine. No beatings, no nothing. Dad seemed unusually serene, almost euphoric. Then Saturday came.
I sat up in Danny’s room with him, hoping it would deter dad. — It didn’t.
The next hour seemed to drag on for eternity. Each minute seemed like hours. He came in Danny’s room and pulled me out by the wrist. Danny started fighting trying to pull me away from dad.
—-I never found out whether it was just a bad day or something else, but dad just snapped in that moment. It was like Georgia didn’t exist anymore. He didn’t care what marks he left. He was going to have me, he was pissed, and that was final.—-
Danny didn’t stand a chance. Dad beat him and threw him in a closet. He then started to drag me to his bedroom.
Georgia wasn’t smiling anymore. Even she realized that something was wrong with dad. Nor was she smiling when Danny busted open the closet door.
Dad had me in the doorway when Danny pulled him off me. Dad pummeled Danny and threw the end table at him. It hit him square in the chest, but he still kept fighting. Danny had fallen to the ground. Dad straddled him and started beating his unconscious body with his fists. Georgia and I no longer existed.
I cried as I pushed past Georgia to go down stairs and call 9-1-1. When I came back up, Georgia had huddled herself in a corner and had stuck her thumb in her mouth. Screaming, I tried to pull dad off of Danny. After several minutes, I finally pulled him off. He seemed to be in a daze. He didn’t move. It was like his mind was gone.
I knelt next to Danny as his breathing grew shallow. He started to say something, but I couldn’t hear him. I knelt closer and put my ear to his lips.
“I… I tried… to stop him… I won’t… let him… hurt… you…”
My eyes welled up with tears. “Danny, it’ll be okay.”
He shook his head weakly. “I… love you… Mary… I’ll… always… pro-… protect you.”
“No. Danny, you can’t die. I need you.” I cradled his head in my arms, like he had done to me so many times when I cried. “You can’t leave me.”
—-He died in that hallway, in my arms. I’ll never forget that moment. When through teary, swollen eyes I watched as he took his last breath, still mumbling the words “I’ll always protect you.”
The medics came, but he was already gone. Georgia and I were removed from the home. Dad and mom went to prison. Mom went for standing by while being aware of the abuse. She was out in two years. Dad went for murder. I’ll never forgive him for what he did. I have long since come to terms with the abuse my siblings and I have suffered, but I cannot forgive him for Danny’s death. Georgia was placed in a mental institution. She still sucks her thumb and has regressed even farther. She is in counseling for the sexual abuse she suffered during our childhood. Sometime in my life, I’m not sure when, I came, not to hate her, but to pity her. She was a victim of my father.
I attended Danny’s wake and funeral, the trials of both my parents, and my sister’s psychological evaluation.
After an extensive psychological evaluation I was placed in the custody of a distant aunt and uncle. I lived out a normal life there and have since continued on with my life.
I am now the legal guardian of my older sister. I visit Georgia at the Shapiro Developmental Center every Saturday, and she has been determined to be non-violent to herself and others, she comes home with me every holiday. I am now married and have three children ages fourteen, ten, and three.
I keep Danny alive in my heart. All I have left of him now, is my memories, a few faded and torn pictures of us, and his journal. Once I started to get my life back on track I felt horrible. Why should I go on living while my brother lay in a grave, and then I realized that I continue on, only because I know that’s what Danny would have wanted.—-