BROKEN (book #1)

08

OLIVIA

I woke up on my bedroom floor, I looked to my right to see Jacob laying on the ground next to me and Abby laying on him. I guess I fell asleep last night after my little meltdown.

I got up off the ground quietly, making sure not to wake up Abby and Jacob. I tiptoed into the kitchen, Feeling the cold white floors underneath me.

I pulled out my phone and saw a text from Reagan, "today is a snow day!" It said.

I walked over to the window and looked outside. Everything was absolutely covered in snow.

I decided to make breakfast for everyone. I grabbed the pancake mix from the cabinets. Pancakes were Abby's favourite ever since she was little and French toast was Jacob's favourite.

But I was still pissed at him for attacking Aiden and I sure as hell wasn't going to make him his favourite breakfast.

"Olivia" I heard a little voice.

"Hey, you're up earlier than usual," I told Abby.

"Ya, why did you not wake me up? I'm gonna miss morning sing-along" Abby asked. It was adorable she was five and was worried about being late to class. When I was five I would've done anything to skip class but Jacob always made me go. He's been taking care of me since I was born. I feel kinda bad that I took away his childhood, when most kids were playing with friends he was cooking me dinner and trying to get money to help my parents pay the bills. Jacob always made sure that I had a childhood that's why he doesn't want me to get a job or to worry about bills like he did when he was my age.

"Olivia" Abby was waving her hands in my face trying to get my attention.

"Oh sorry I got distracted and you don't have school today," I told her.

"Oh ok. Are you feeling better? Does your heart still hurt" Abby asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked curiously.

"Yesterday. You were sad about mommy" she told me sadly. I hope she didn't hear too much of my meltdown.

"Oh I'm fine" I quickly reassured her.

"Why do you and Jacob hate mommy and daddy so much?" Abby asked playing with her curls.

How do I even answer that, I can't exactly tell a five-year-old that her parents didn't want any of us. I can't tell her how they would hit me every night. I can't tell her how her dad would come home drunk and her mom was probably a fucking prostitute.

"Mommy and daddy hurt my feelings and I can't forgive them for that. But I don't want you to worry about that, okay?" I told her.

"Okay," she came up to me and gave me a big hug.

"Wanna make pancakes?"

+++

"They look so yummy," Abby said. Her eyes widened as she looked at the pink pancakes that we made. The kitchen looked like a bomb went off, there was pancake mix all over the walls and table. I made the mistake of letting Abby mix the mixture. She was covered In red food dye, because we decided to make the pancakes pink.