them.

this next sabotage was meticulously

planned, for i was not strong enough,

nor was he desperate enough for me to

coax him out of that preposterous relationship.

they didn't look good together,

rather they clashed the way

a standalone rose does admist

cunning weeds. or blood against

flannel white school shirts.

god, i'd rip every weed out of

your way, beautiful rose. i'd crush

them underfoot. ruin them in the

palm of my hand...

my plan began as soon as i

entered my house, and seeing

my brother perched against

the kitchen table in a heated

debate with my father, i could

not think of a better time.

quickly, i rolled up my sleeve,

and scored jagged nail marks

into my flesh. i repeated it

vigorously until the scores were

deep and threatening to bleed,

raw, red and angry.

arranging my face into an

expression of a withdrawn melancholia,

i dragged myself into that room.

they both immediately stopped,

bombarding me with queries.

"what's wrong?"

i glanced up at my brother,

pleading in my posture.

"i'm worried about skye."

"why?" my brother coaxed.

"she's getting bullied, but i'm

not strong enough to do anything.

i tried, but look, at my arm."

i rolled my sleeve up even further, exposing

the ferocity of my self mutilization.

"he did this to me. he clawed at me.

and hauled punches into my stomach."

my father groaned in agony,

like it pained him to imagine.

my brother looked over to him,

before nodding.

"who is it?"

"i can't tell you. he'll hurt skye.

he's already using her. she wants

it to stop-"

"look, you need to tell me!

i won't let him hurt you again,

or skye."

i feigned fear, until my father

interjected.

"you'll be doing the right thing,

telling your brother, son. he'll sort

the jerk out."

my brother nodded enthusiastically,

grinning at me and cracking his

knuckles.

and with

a faux quivering voice spoke,

"his name is kieran."