Free Out of the Blackness by Carter Quinn Page A

violence. In my heart I know Kira is only playing with Sam. She’d never hurt him and he’d never allow it. But exchange the loving teasing for simmering hatred and I’m back in my mother’s kitchen, about to witness—and possibly, probably, be the subject of—a beating.
    “Oh my god, Avery, I’m so sorry!” I hear the absolute horror in Kira’s voice and, though I know it’s genuine, I take another two steps backward, my eyes trained to the living room carpet, my arms hugging myself tightly.
    In seconds, I feel Sam standing before me. I can see his ugly brown shoes, but still I don’t look up. “She wasn’t going to hurt me, Aves.”
    I nod. I know that, I do. But still, this is too much. I’m not ready for this. I start to shake my head, wanting the memories to go away, willing the sight and scent of blood from my brain. I hear the coats hit the chair as Sam tosses them off to the side. Then his big, calloused hands are on my cheeks, gently tilting my head up.
    “Look at me, Avery.”
    I clench my eyes closed, but the bloody image on my eyelids forces them back open again. I feel Sam stroking my hair and it begins to calm me enough I can look at him. I know the plea is there in my wet eyes, but I have no idea how to vocalize it.
    Sam continues to stroke my hair as he draws me slowly into his embrace. “It’s okay, little brother. It’s you and me and Kira. Avery and Sam, right? Nothing’s going to hurt you here, buddy. I’ve got you. Just relax and breathe for me, okay?” Without conscious effort, my arms wrap around him, stealing his strength and calmness. “That’s it, buddy,” he whispers into my hair. “It’s okay. Breathe.”
    After a couple of minutes, I feel my heart pulsing at its usual tempo and realize my breathing is back down to normal. I give Sam a quick squeeze to let him know I’m alright. He lifts his cheek from the top of my head and loosens the embrace. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, embarrassment rising to the surface as it does every time I midjudge or flake out over nothing.
    “Never apologize to me, Aves.” Sam strokes my hair one last time. “You know Kira would never hurt me, right?”
    I nod solemnly.
    “You know she would never hurt you, either, right?”
    I shake my head slightly, because what was I gonna do, lie? Of course Kira would hurt me. Perhaps not right this minute, but given any change in her relationship with Sam, she is just like everyone else. Sam misinterprets my answer, perhaps intentionally, and steps back, a half-smile on his face. “There ya go, then,” he says. “Not a reason in the world to worry about this again. It’s all okay.”
    Again I nod, ready to get on with the rest of the day. Actually, I just want to go to sleep, but I know that’s off the table. Sensing my mood like he always does, Sam suggests I lay down on the couch while he and Kira reheat lunch. I nod again and Sam lets go of me completely. Seconds later, I’m wildly asleep on the couch.
    ***
    It’s summer. The heat of the day beckons me to come play. The neighborhood kids are next door, playing on Andrew’s new Slip-n-Slide. I meticulously check my room to ensure that all is clean. Clothes are either hanging neatly in the closet or folded crisply in the dresser, dirty ones are tidily folded in the hamper in the closet. All dust bunnies have been chased away and my bed is as well-made as a seven-year-old can do. Nervously, I check to make sure the bedspread is even on all three sides. That was what set Carl off last time—the foot of the bed was uneven. By the time he was finished teaching me how to do it correctly, I couldn’t sit for several hours. I was covered in bruises and welts from the middle of my back to just above my knees. I desperately want to avoid that now. All I want in the world is to go play in the Slip-n-Slide. The shouts and giggles and screams from next door threaten to make me sloppy, but I know one mistake is all it will take to ensure I can’t go