Chapter 3
"Stop!" Dad shouted as he came down the stairs, his eyes blazing with fury at the scene.
He stormed over, ripped the ashtray out of Michael's hand, and backhanded him with a heavy slap.
Michael's face puffed up in seconds.
"She's your sister. What were you going to do, kill her?" Dad thundered.
"Just look at her hand. Her forehead. All those scars!" Dad shouted.
"She's already been through hell. How much more do you want her to suffer?" Dad yelled.
Michael just stood there, stunned, staring at my burned hand and the gash on my forehead.
I didn't shed a single tear. I just stared at them in silence, my face blank.
Mom came running down when she heard the commotion. When she saw me, pain etched across her face, and tears welled up in her eyes.
"Elaine, what happened now?" she asked, her voice trembling with worry.
She reached out to hold me. I didn't pull away. I didn't lean in.
I stood perfectly still, like a porcelain doll.
"Michael, apologize to your sister!" Dad roared, pointing at Michael.
Michael looked at me, guilt written all over his face, but fear was even stronger in his eyes. "I'm sorry... Elaine..."
I looked at him and said softly, "It's okay."
Those two words broke him. He started crying.
It wasn't a monster he had hurt. It was a girl who couldn't even feel it.
Mom gently cleaned up my wounds. "Elaine, tell me, does it hurt?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Are you scared?" she asked softly.
I thought for a moment. "I don't even know what scared feels like."
Mom just cried even harder.
She held me close, whispering, "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again. Not even Michael."
I rested in her arms, but I couldn't feel anything at all.
*****
Trying to make up for everything, Mom bought me a pricey white cashmere sweater.
She carefully helped me put it on. "Elaine, does it feel okay? Is it comfy?"
I ran my fingers over the sweater and nodded. "It feels good."
I couldn't actually feel the softness. But I knew it was supposed to be soft.
Wearing my new sweater, I sat quietly on the couch.
When Jessica came home, her eyes went straight to my new sweater.
"Why does she get to wear something so fancy? Mom never bought me anything this expensive," Jessica complained.
Mom tried to explain, "Jessica, you have plenty of nice clothes in your closet."
"Those are all old. Now that she's back, you don't love me anymore!" Jessica wailed.
She got more and more worked up, tears and snot streaming down her face.
"I've been your daughter 15 years, and it's like I was nothing after she showed up," she cried.
She ran to the table, tears streaming down her face, and snatched up a box cutter. "You don't deserve this!"
She lunged at me, trying to cut the sweater right off my body.
I didn't dodge or fight back. I just watched her, calm and unmoved.
The sharp blade slashed wildly at my sweater, and in the chaos, the tip drove straight into my shoulder.
Blood burst out instantly, soaking the white cashmere in a vivid red.
I lowered my head, staring at the ruined sweater, and said quietly, "The order was to wear it. Now that it's ruined, the order has failed."
"What do you mean, failed? You psycho!" Jessica screamed, still lunging at me.
Mom rushed over, snatched the box cutter away, and gave Jessica a resounding slap across the face.
Jessica staggered back several steps from the blow.
"Are you out of your mind? Do you want to be arrested?" Mom snapped, her face fiercer than Jessica had ever seen.
"She's your sister. Your real sister! What kind of person hurts their own family?" Mom shouted.
Jessica clutched her face, staring at Mom in utter disbelief. "You hit me? For her? For this monster?"
"Yes. I hit you for her," Mom shot back without hesitation.
"If you ever hurt Elaine again, I'll send you straight to juvenile detention," Mom warned.