Nixon

••• Seven •••

She puts her arms around me the second I step through the front door, her hands grasping the material of my shirt as her tears begin to fall. My arms wrap around her as if instinct as her sobs are muffled by my shirt. Running my hands up and down her back, I try to calm her down, telling her we should go someone mom and dad can't hear us.

In little time I'm inside her room, the room once full of bright colors now dark as her emotions break loose. "Shh, I'm here," I whisper in her ear, brushing her hair with my fingers as Taylor lays upon me, my body pushed onto her bed as she holds me, crying.
I'm not shocked she was having sex, I know my little sister, and she knows I don't agree with some of the things she does, but now, as she's been raped, I have nothing but hate filling my heart. That bastard will pay in one way or another.

I know she won't want to tell our parents, for the police will be involved, she will be exposed to the school, and our parents will never forgive her for her past in sexual experience and partying. Why have I kept my mouth shut? I want a relationship where my sister does not hate me.

"Taylor, he will never touch you again," I whisper over and over as her sobs are muffled by a pillow she holds to her mouth, her eyes puffy and red as I stare up at the ceiling. "That bastard will never be forgiven by me and I'll never show him an ounce of kindness."

"He didn't stop, Lily. I begged him to stop, I begged him to, but he just held me down and forced me to take it."

A tear rolls down my cheek at those words, more hate filling my heart. "Where was this?" I ask, Taylor raising her head to look into my eyes.

"At his place, I called you two hours after."

"I was gone," I whisper, remembering I was with Nixon, enjoying time with him as I thought nothing of lying to my parents as my sister was being raped by a boy she trusted.

"No, even if you were gone it would have happened," Taylor cries.

And she cries until she can't stay away anymore, all through the night as demons come alive within my soul and all I want to do is show my wrath.

School comes the next morning as I arrive an hour late. After convincing my parents that Taylor was sick, I got out of the house and went to second period, bombarded with questions as to my tardiness.

All my thoughts are on today is Taylor, my little sister, the girl I was raised to also protect. All I want to do is slam my first into Adam's face, watching as blood perhaps comes from his nose as I land a kick so hard to his family jewels that he can never have sex without extreme pain. He's a rapist. He deserves to be behind bars, but I treasure my sister's happiness first. I accept that she doesn't want to be released to the school and town as a victim.

As lunch rolls around, I'm looking for Taylor's group of friends. Once I've approached them, they stare at me, wondering why I'm here. "Can I ask where Adam is?" I ask, trying to conceal my emotions that I want to let loose.

One of the girls cocks her head at me. "He's not here today, didn't you hear?"

"Hear what?" I ask, looking at the group as some look sad, others angry, and others don't know what expression to show.

"Adam's missing. His parents are about to file for a missing person once the hour period is up," a boy explains. As if I'm on autopilot, I find myself not responding as my legs carry me somewhere.

I leave.

Running out of school, I try and recall what streets to take as I start my car and think over the route I'm going to have to take. He won't be home, he won't be there.

Anger and confusion cloud my mind as I find myself sleeping down the high way, and in twenty minutes or so I'm pulling into the city, finding a place to park as I keep my eyes trained upon the building.