Beaten to the Ground {Yoya}

LANDON MINK

Telling him to stop wasn't worth it anymore. I was just Emerson's punching bag at this point. He didn't care if we were in public or not, as long as there weren't any Peacekeepers around. He would beat me without a care, if he could get away with it. The problem was, he always could get away with it. That hadn't changed. I tried to evade his next punch, but it connected with my nose and blood splattered everywhere. I yelled out in pain, but Emerson just hit me again, telling me to shut up and deal with it. Tears started to well up in my eyes. I hated to appear weak, but there was nothing I could do about it. As long as my brother had the advantage, which he always did, I would appear weak.

We were in my front yard. He hadn't even bothered to harass me inside the house this time. Normally, he at least had the decency to do that, if you even called that a form of decency. I once again yelled at him to stop, but he brought his foot down onto my stomach. I was surprised he hadn't broken my ribs when he did that. He was lucky that he had narrowly missed them. Or, I suppose, I was lucky. He would have liked to have broken my ribs again. He'd done it before, after all.

Once again, I tried to yell for someone to help me. Emerson, however, knew how to shut me up. He told me that if I didn't stay quiet, he'd break my arm. I was already almost positive at this point that he'd broken my nose, so I didn't want to make him go any further than he already had. I suffered through the next dozen punches, just praying to Ripred, if there is a Ripred. I wanted to be saved, but Ripred had never saved me before. Would he swoop in for once, and actually show me that I wasn't alone? Of course not. I knew I was alone. The beatings would never stop as long as Emerson and I were both alive.