Sadie & Tia

"Are we going to the pool today, Tia?" I ask as we sit on her front porch, enjoying our Bomb Pops.

"Yeah, once we finish our pops," she says with a silly grin.

After we finish our pops, we change into our swimming suits. Loud, ear-piercing voices and the sound of glass breaking stop us in our tracks. We give each other with wide eyes. We quickly put our clothes over our bathing suits. Tia opens her bedroom window and shoves me out first as the yelling grows louder. I hold out my hand to her, but the depleted look on Tia"s face tells me she won't be going with me. Tia is so done with all of this, and so am I.

"Tia, no, please don"t. Come with me," I plead while I try to keep my voice down.

"He"s really angry. I can't leave Mom," she whispers. She jerks her head back to her bedroom door and turns to me with a pale face. "He"s coming! Please go home, Sadie."

As soon as she shuts the window, her father rips through the door while her mother screams behind him to leave Tia alone.

"Not my baby! Don"t you touch her, cabrón!"

My heart is pounding so fast.

I can"t breathe.

I hear Tia scream, "No, Daddy, please! No, Daddy! What did I do?"

My insides boil when I hear a whip being cracked. I know what he"s doing to her. His choice of weapon is using his belt to strike Tia"s tiny body, welts and skin tearing until she stops crying. The more she cries, the more he uses it.

"NO! NO! NO!" I scream as I smack my palm against the vinyl siding, not caring if he hears me. If I run to another neighbor and call the cops, getting his attention away from Tia is her only choice.

"PLEASE! Please. Please." I sob, kneeling to the ground with my head down in defeat. It feels like I sit outside Tia"s window for hours, waiting to hear a sound, anything letting me know she is ok. I wrap my arms around my knees, pulling them to my chest. I rock back and forth, crying silently… waiting.

It"s too quiet.

I continue to sob, followed by hiccups while trying to stay calm for Tia. She needs me to be strong for her when she comes out of this. And she will come out of this alive.

I didn't realize it was getting dark until headlights appear in the driveway, and relief replaces the anger and helplessness. Josiah jumps out from the back seat and is the first to notice me.

"Sade? Is that you?" He"s the only one who calls me Sade. I run to Josiah because he makes me feel safe.

"What happened?" he asks in a worried tone as he holds me tight in his arms.

Hiccup. "It"s Tia"— hiccup,—"She"s hurt, Josiah." Hiccup.

"?Que paso mija? ?" Mom asks with a worried look when she sees my puffy red eyes. She picked up Josiah after work. I jump and hide behind Josiah when the front door slams, clinging to his shirt. Tia"s mom stands on the front porch with a cigarette in her hand. She lights the cigarette and takes one puff. After she exhales, her cold dead eyes gaze over at us. The gash on her forehead is bleeding.Her left eye is closed shut and bruised, probably from Tia"s dad"s fist. Her top is ripped open, exposing her blue bra and old bruises on her chest.

"Marisol, where"s Tia?" Mom asks as she walks toward Tia"s mom, pushing me back beside Josiah. Mom catches Marisol in her arms as she collapses and sobs hysterically. I run past them desperately and into the house, I need to get to Tia.

Josiah runs in after me, and I hear Mom yelling for us to come back. I know it is stupid to run in here knowing Tia"s dad is in a drunken rage, but I don"t care. She"s my best friend, my sister, and I need to make sure she"s alive.

I tiptoe through the house and down the hallway as my heart races. Once I reach her bedroom door, the floor creaks. I freeze in place, waiting for someone to attack us from behind the door. When I hear loud snoring noises coming from the other room down the hall, I sigh in relief, and my body relaxes.

Tia's door is closed. I slowly turn the crystal knob, calling out her name in a whisper.

No answer.

I open the door wider and turn the light switch on, but Josiah quickly turns it off and grabs the flashlight near her bedside. Tia and I use our flashlights and flash them through our bedroom windows like we have our own Batman signal.

We hear quiet sobs coming from the closet. Josiah closes the door behind us with the flashlight in his hands as I gently open the closet's sliding doors. Tia sits in the corner with her knees to her chest, holding her favorite plush monkey doll that Josiah won for her at the State Fair last summer. Her eyes are closed, and drytears are left behind on her cheeks. I slowly placing my hand on her knee. She opens her eyes and removes her headphones.

"Tia. It"s ok. We're here. I'm here." Tia throws herself in my arms and cries in the nape of my neck. "Shh, it"s ok, Tia. I am not going to leave you."