I love you and I hate you and I'm losing my mind. You tell me all the time that this will pass and that I'm gonna be fine.
For a moment things went dark.
Brooklyn had seen the kick coming, closed her eyes and had taken the brute force straight to her mouth, busting open her bottom lip. The taste of copper filled her mouth. A whimper escaped from her throat as she quickly placed her hand up to feel the warm blood dripping. No teeth were broken, but Brooklyn would admit her spirit was. She held her hand over her mouth as the blood dripped to her grey sweater. Tears weld up in her eyes as she looked at the young girl.
How could she?
As Leo and Sam comforted the girl in the ways they knew how, the two made eye contact again. Brookyln didn't look at her angry in the slightest, a sense of sadness in her eyes as she watched her walk upstairs. She wasn't mad, but she was hurt both mentally and physically. "Never. Again." Brooklyn said out loud to the remaining household members that were still downstairs. She didn't raise her voice nor did she curse, but she made mental note to never do that again.
Finally getting up, Brooklyn removed her blood stained sweatshirt revealing a tank top and used it to wipe off what she could off her chin and neck. She took this opportunity to go back outside, slamming the door behind her. "Fuck." she growled, sitting on the steps- her sweater balled up in her lap. Reaching down she took a handful of snow and pressed it to her lower face. It melted against her warm flesh, releasing the pain and perhaps helping the swelling.
It was freezing outside, but the young woman was hot with adrenaline from the scene that had taken place. "Why does everyone I try to take care of, try to fuck me up? Hmm?" she grumbled in a whisper, as she punished herself by punching her thigh through her jeans several times. She had done this out of habit ever since she was a young girl, to relieve stress rather than punch a wall or another person. After cooling off for a few minutes, Brooklyn went back inside, her sweater under her arm.
She proceeded to go into her room and change into her one other sweater she owned, this time maroon. Her other sweater she balled up and threw onto the bed along with the soaked tank top. She would have to try to clean it later as she was skilled in getting blood out of clothing- but she wasn't in the mood to deal with it right now. That or she would just burn the clothing in their fireplace, and call it done for.
Moving back down towards the kitchen, Brooklyn took it upon herself to start dinner- a fish stew.