"Daniel, you have to bathe."
I was silent as I cuddled under the blanket. I heard the door open, but remained absolutely still, waiting for them to give up and leave. I didn’t want to be near anything that reminded me of that scorching hot liquid, ruling water out.
"He still won't go near the water?" Father’s low voice asked.
"Can you blame him?" Marissa countered.
"Marissa. You can't be upset with me when I wasn't there. Claire's suffering too, you know," Father complained.
"Claire's a grown adult who needs...she needs help, your Highness. Daniel turns six tomorrow and here he is, huddled beneath a blanket and won't even let me tend to his burns. He won't let anyone touch him and Michael is even worse and isn't responding to anything. You're lucky Daniel's eyes weren't damaged!" Marissa pointed out.
"But you weren't there either," Father mumbled.
"Are you actually hearing yourself, your Highness? You don't have even one speck of worry for your sons?" Marissa exclaimed.
"Enough, Marissa," Father warned.
Marissa huffed. "I'll say this once, King Moore. You should pray to the Starlight gods that your sons stay in your life because, at this point, I really doubt they will want to. Maybe to you, their apparent ‘acceptance’ of having a new mother in their lives made you assume everything was okay. But a real mother would never blast scorching hot bleach at her eight and not even six cycle children," she declared disapprovingly.
The room was silent and I wondered if Marissa had left. Then I heard her voice, "Daniel, tomorrow you have to shower. No excuses. You want to be clean for your birthday, okay?"
"Okay," I whispered in response. I heard her soft footsteps and poked out of my blanket to see her walking to the doorway.
"Marissa?" I whispered.
She paused mid-stride and turned to look at me. I noticed her shock; she gave a sidelong glance at Father who looked just as taken aback. I'd been giving everyone the silent treatment since the incident and Michael had barely said anything to anyone other than me, and even that was only occasionally.
"I love you."
Her eyes grew wide and she hurried back to where I was huddled, kneeling down. She reached out to brush my face with her hand and I tensed up, afraid her touch would cause pain, but it was gentle and made me relax.
"I love you too, Daniel. You'll have a nice cool bath and then I'll change those bandages of yours. Then you and Michael can have a relaxing day with me and you can do my hair," Marissa hummed.
"That would be nice," I replied quietly. I didn't feel like smiling, but the idea did make me a little happier.
She nodded and rose, giving Father a slight nod before walking out of my room. She would be sleeping just down the hall in the spare bedroom, at least until Michael and I both recovered from our injuries.
It wasn't like anyone couldn’t heal us. We just wouldn't let them touch us long enough to try. The pain we felt was a reminder of what Claire had done and would hopefully make Father realize the traumatic agony we were experiencing. Not like he cared, though.
The room was silent and I returned to huddling beneath the blanket. "Daniel." Father's voice was soft and piqued my interest. I poked out from the blanket again and met his sad gaze.
"You're aware Claire is dealing with a lot," Father pointed out.
"Michael's dealing with a lot. No one besides me cares about that," I countered.
Father looked confused by my words. "Michael isn't stressed."
"Michael gets bullied at training for liking both boys and girls. He comes home and Claire always yells at him and beats him up. Why do you keep acting like you don’t see anything that’s happening? Is Claire more important than us? Is she better than Mommy?" I demanded.
I couldn't get why he ignored our pain. Was it not enough?
"How long has this been happening?" Father asked, looking upset.
"For six rotations, Father."
"Well...he shouldn't be open about the fact he likes the same sex. It's frowned upon here. We're angels and should be living a holy lifestyle," Father condemned.
"But it’s okay for Claire to hit us and break stuff?" I countered.
Father blinked and glared at me. "Claire doesn't break stuff."
"How would you know? You're never here when she's her true self. Father, I may be turning six tomorrow, but I'm not stupid," I mumbled, looking at the floor.
"When did you learn how to speak in such a manner?" Father grumbled.
"All I do is read all day. I don't have friends and only Michael plays with me. What do you expect?"
We were both silent; after a moment I sighed. My eyes were already beginning to bother me and I felt incredibly tired.
"I'll...talk with Claire. As for Michael, I’ll look into the bullying situation," Father whispered.
"Okay. That would make Michael hap—" I paused and my eyes grew wide at the sudden change of scenery.
I was in Michael's room at the end of his bed that was neatly made. The cleanliness and order in the room was normal for Michael but something felt off. Different? I tilted my head and turned around. My eyes widened and tears began to pool in them, blurring the image of my brother sitting slumped against the door in a pool of blood.
"Daniel? What's wrong?" Father's voice pulled me out of the short vision but I was too stunned to answer. I leapt up and raced down the hall to Michael's room. I slid to a stop and slammed my little hands against his door.
"Michael!" I shouted. There was no response and I trembled in fear, thinking I was already too late.
"Don't stop me, Daniel." I heard Michael's low voice through the thin white door.
I slammed my fists again and my heart banged against my chest. "Michael. Don't! You can't. Please? You promised. You said you wouldn't leave me! Take me with you! Don't do this!" I begged, slamming my fists into the door again and again.
Marissa walked out of her room in a rush, coming to my side.
"Daniel. What's wrong?"
"Michael! STOP! Don't kill yourself! You can't leave me! I won't let you abandon me!" I cried out, using my gift to force him. I didn't care if he hated me for stopping him, I wouldn't let him go. He was all I had. If he died, where would that leave me?
"What? Michael! Open the door!" Marissa ordered, banging on the door. She ran down the hall, passing Father as she raced down the stairs. I knew she was going to get the spare key.
I stared at Father who stood frozen at the end of the hall, looking shocked.
"Michael! Please. I'll be good. I won't cause any problems and I'll listen to you. Please," I sobbed and fell to my knees against the door. "Brother...please."
The click of the door made me open my tear-filled eyes in hope and I lifted my hands off the door just as it opened; Michael's dull eyes met mine and filled with tears.
"You're annoying, Daniel," he muttered, but I brushed aside his insult.
I knew from the tears that rolled down his cheeks that he didn't want to die. I pushed off the ground and crashed into him, giving him a tight hug. He hugged me back and began to cry in earnest, both of us falling to our knees and holding each other like it was the last time we’d ever see each other.
Marissa's loud panting reached my ears and she sighed in relief when she saw us. In seconds, her arms were around us and we cried in her embrace. Her sobs were just as loud as ours and I felt even worse for hurting her feelings.
She was a better person than Claire ever could be. I cried until Marissa picked me up in her arms and rubbed my back to calm me down. I was scared if I went back to my room or left Michael alone, my vision would come true.
"Daniel, shh. Michael's right here. He's not going to hurt himself," Marissa soothed.
"Why does no one else care? I don't want to live here anymore. I don't want to see Michael sad anymore. Why doesn't Father care? Why does Claire hate us? I hate it. I hate everything," I declared.
I continued to sob into Marissa's arms until I had no tears left to shed. I just wanted to be happy. Was it that hard to achieve happiness? I wanted back the brother who always spent time with me. He didn't deserve to be dealing with everything he was going through.
None of us deserved it.
"I care, Daniel. Your father just struggles with showing his affection for you and Michael. Please, don't hate him. We'll work on Claire and I'll have a talk with your father. Both of you come stay in my room for tonight. We’ll have some ice cream and do a fun sleepover? Does that sound a little better?” Marissa offered.
I looked at Michael who nodded while he rubbed his eyes.
"Good, let's go," Marissa suggested, carrying me. Michael left first and Marissa followed him. I lifted my head to see Father still in the exact spot he had been in before. I stared into his gold eyes and watched a tear roll down his cheek.
It was the first time I'd seen him cry.