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"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃!" My Dad was lecturing my big brother, Kellen, again. They fight a lot, like almost every day. Right now, Kellen is sitting all funny in his chair. His eyes are all red and he looks tired, but not like bedtime tired. It's the kind of tired where he just stares at the floor and doesn't really listen. I think he had some of his weird powder stuff. Dad says it's called coke, he says when Kellen takes that stuff he's high, or "coked up". I know it makes him act strange, very strange.

"What do you want everyone here to think, huh? That you're some kind of addict, Kellen? Is that what you want people to think?" He was not yelling, he was just talking with a mean tone in his voice. I don't get how my dad does that, I could feel it in my chest. My stomach hurts when they fight like this.

Mom was walking by, but she didn't even stop. She just shrugged her shoulders like she does when she doesn't care about something. "He is an addict, there's no thinking about it." My mom's not Kellen's real mom. She's his stepmom, which means Kellen is my half-brother. I asked Daddy what "half-brother" means once, and he said it's like a brother, but different, he's not fully my brother because he has a different mom. I don't really get it, because Kellen feels like my whole brother to me.

But Kellen and Mom, they don't get along. They never have. They don't even talk much unless they're yelling. I think they both like it better that way. Kellen rolled his eyes and said, "Oh, I'm sorry, are you talking to me? You drank an entire bottle of wine in one day." His voice was all sarcastic, like when he pretends to be nice but he's not. Mom just slapped him on the back of his head like she always does when he talks back. Kellen never likes when she touches him. He went stiff, like one of my toy soldiers, and looked like he wanted to hit her back, but he never does. Kellen would never hit a lady, Dad taught him that.

Dad pointed a finger at him, his face getting redder by the second. "This is not about her, Kellen, this is about you!"

I wish they would stop fighting. I don't even know what started it this time. I just want them to stop so my ears can rest. I picked up my crayons and kept drawing to distract myself.

As I started coloring, I could still hear them. I tried to block it out by coloring really, really hard. Today I'm drawing our old house. It was big and white with two stories, an attic, and a basement. It had a big yard where I used to play, and we had a pool too. I liked that house better because it was quieter there. Here, it feels like everyone is always mad even though we gotta be quiet so nobody realizes how we aren't really as close as we want people to think we are.

"You need to stop, Kellen. Pull your act together or you're gonna kill yourself!" Daddy lectured again. Kellen just laughed, but it wasn't a happy laugh. He rubbed his nose with his sleeve, sniffling a little. He does that a lot when he takes his powder stuff.

"Yeah, I feel like it when I'm around you and your wife," Kellen said, looking at Dad with eyes that looked mean, like a dog ready to bite. He didn't say anything about me, though. That made me feel a tiny bit happy because it means he wasn't mad at me...I know it's selfish to think like that, but when Kellen thinks good about me I feel better about myself.

Daddy was pacing now, back and forth, like a tiger in a cage. "Because we're so awful, right? I give you everything you want, and you're spoiled. Then you blame me for doing drugs?"

I put my hands over my ears. But even then, I could still hear them. Their voices were like thunder, rumbling through the house. I don't like thunderstorms, especially not the ones that happen inside our family.

Kellen stood up suddenly, knocking his chair over. "Because all you ever do is stress me out, Dad!" Kellen was crying now, but not the kind of crying that makes you feel better. His face was all scrunchy, and his hands were shaking.

"Now you're gonna bring baseball into it-"

"You made me hate it, dad-"

Dad crossed his arms, shaking his head like he didn't believe a word Kellen was saying. "You loved baseball, Kellen."

"I loved the team! I loved Coach Smith!" Kellen yelled, his voice cracking like when you step on thin ice. "Not when you were there. You just yelled and made me feel like crap!"

Coach Smith was my gym teacher at school, and I liked him too. He was nice and always gave me stickers when I did a good job. Kellen used to be so happy when he came home from practice. But then he quit in his last year of high school, and things just got worse after that.

"I was making you a better player!" Daddy shouted back, throwing his hands in the air like he was giving up on something.

"By making me play with a torn-up shoulder!" Kellen was holding his arm like it hurt just thinking about it. Dad's face got all confused for a second, then mad again.

"Oh my god, Kellen. I'm a doctor, a surgeon for godsakes!" Daddy's voice was getting that scary quiet tone, like when you know something really bad is about to happen.

"Which means you should've known that if I'm hurting, you don't make me play!" Kellen shot back.

It went quiet for a second, like the calm before a storm. I almost thought maybe they were done. But then Daddy spoke again, even quieter this time. "I'm sorry I paid a ton of money for trainers and pitching coaches just for you to quit," he said, his voice all tight. "You're a disappointment to this family. You know that?"

It felt like everything just froze. Even my crayons stopped moving. Kellen's face turned white like a ghost, and for a moment, I thought he was going to cry again. But he didn't. Instead, he clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Fuck you, Dad. Honestly, fuck you."

I gasped. Kellen wasn't supposed to say that word, especially not to Daddy. Daddy hates bad words more than anything. His face got so red, I thought he was going to explode like a volcano. "Say it again," Daddy dared him, his hands clenched into fists.

Kellen just looked him straight in the eyes, not even blinking. "Fuck. You."

And that's when things got really, really bad.

Daddy lunged at him, and they started hitting each other. I closed my eyes, squeezing them shut so tight it hurt.

I wished I could disappear, or maybe run away to my old house, where everything was quiet and happy. I just kept coloring, trying to stay inside the lines, hoping it would stop soon. I didn't know how to make them stop, and I didn't know if it ever would.

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"HEY, BABYDOLL," I heard someone call out, kinda loud. I turned my head to see who it was. I didn't think it was for me, I thought maybe for Sophia or someone else. But nope, it was for me.

"Blondie, over here." That scratchy voice was Merle Dixon's. He waved at me, like we were friends or something. I knew I wasn't supposed to be over on the Dixon side of camp. Dad always says they're no good, calls them rednecks, white trash, and a lot of other not-nice things. But I didn't wanna be rude, so I just kinda stood there for a second, shuffling my feet. Then, I slowly walked over, biting my lip.

"My name's Maryn, in case you were wondering," I said, because I wasn't really sure what else to say. I was playing with the frayed edge of my jean shorts, twisting it around my finger. I was real nervous my daddy would see me over here, and I knew he'd get super mad if he did. He always gets real mad when I break the rules.

Merle was staring at me with this weird grin, the kind that made my skin feel all crawly. "Yeah, whatever, kid. I hear your brother's got the stuff..." He leaned in closer, his voice all quiet like he was telling me a big secret. I scrunched up my face, because I didn't understand what he meant at first. My brother, Kellen, has a lot of stuff, like a cool pocket knife, but I was pretty sure Merle wasn't asking about that.

"Y'know, the stuff. Cocaine, weed, that kinda stuff." His eyes were squinty, like he was trying to see if I'd rat Kellen out. I shook my head quickly.

"I dunno, I don't think he does," I mumbled, looking down at my sneakers. "My daddy says that stuff is real bad and—"

"Merle, leave the kid alone. She don't know what that means," Daryl Dixon called out, suddenly. He was sitting on an old lawn chair, gnawing on some kind of meat before he left for his hunt. It looked all greasy and chewy. I tried not to make a face because Daddy says it's rude to look disgusted, but I couldn't help it. Eating squirrel like that just seemed so gross.

Merle turned and glared at his brother. His smile got even bigger, but it didn't make me feel any better. "Shut it, baby brother." Then he laughed, turning back to me. "I ain't gonna tell your daddy if that's what yer worried 'bout, sweetheart."

I shifted from one foot to the other, feeling kinda itchy in my own skin. "I really don't think he has any-" I started, but Merle didn't wanna hear it.

"I heard y'all fightin' over it," he said, leanin' even closer. His breath smelled like beer and old cigarettes. "Don't try ta lie ta me, kid. Tell your big brother to come on over here one 'a these days and we'll talk. Can ya tell him that?"

I nodded, just wanting him to stop talking to me. I was about to turn around and run back to my side of camp when I heard it.

"Maryn!"

Oh no.

My daddy's voice was like thunder, and I froze. I turned and saw him storming over, his eyes angry, like the time I spilled milk all over the table.

Daddy grabbed me by the arm, but I didn't wanna cry like a baby. He yanked me away, right in front of Merle and Daryl, and he didn't seem to care if they were listening.

"What did I tell you about coming over here?" Daddy hissed, his grip harsh on my arm. It felt like my skin was gonna bruise. He was practically dragging me back to our tent. "Answer me, Maryn!"

"I'm sorry!" I squeaked, but he wasn't having it. His jaw was all clenched like he was gonna explode.

He spun me around to face him, and I could see the fury in his eyes. "What was that trash talking to you about, huh? What did he want?"

I shrugged, trying to hold back tears. My cheek was still stinging where he slapped me, but I didn't wanna make it worse by crying. Daddy hates it when I cry. I had to think of something quick, something that wouldn't get Kellen in trouble.

"He was asking if I ever had squirrel before," I lied, talking fast so Daddy wouldn't get suspicious. "Said he saw how nice our tent was and wanted to trade some squirrels for it."

Daddy's eyes narrowed like he could see right through me. "Don't lie to me, Maryn Elizabeth. I'll know if you're lying-"

"I'm not, I swear!" I pleaded, my voice all high-pitched and shaky.

It really sucks that I'm a bad liar, but I had to try. Because if Daddy found out Merle was talking about drugs and thought Kellen was involved, there'd be a lot more yelling and maybe even worse. I just wanted to get back to our tent and hide under the blankets where it was safe.

Daddy stared at me for a long time, like he was tryin' to see inside my brain. Then, finally, he let go of my arm, and I almost fell over. "Get inside the tent," he growled.

"I'm-"

"Now."

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A/N:

Guys papa rick will be here soon don't worry...