“I don’t know!” she said as she was wracked with more pain. Anisa sat on the toilet as her premature body violently miscarried her baby.

I held her hand tightly as if she was bringing life into the world instead of flushing one down the toilet. I couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t my decision to make and it was already done, so all I could do was be there for my sister. She didn’t ask to be in that situation. Perry had put her in it before her time, so I didn’t judge her for wanting to get rid of it secretly.

Anisa was weak and could barely stand, so I helped her to our room and cleaned up the mess. I gave her two of our mother’s pain prescriptions and washed her up before she fell asleep. This was the first time that I was grateful for my mother’s ignorance. I didn’t want her to come in and find out what we had done.

Just as I went to throw away the bloody towel, my mother was coming up the steps. “Where did all that blood come from?” she asked.

“I… um… I… it was from the fight. I got cut and I had to clean it,” I lied.

“Oh, well, that serves you right for fighting in the first place,” she said. “I was coming to tell you and your sister that I’m off to work. Perry will be home in about an hour. Come lock the door behind me.”

I followed her to the door, and once she was gone, I raced back up to Anisa. She was still asleep. I lay beside her and we wrapped our arms around each other. I knew that we had to get out of that house. Even at such a young age, I was aware of danger. I just felt it in the pit of my stomach that things were never going to get better. With Perry around we would never feel safe, and Anisa had just gone through hell just to hide what he was doing to her. I wanted out. I wanted something better for both me and Anisa, and I promised myself that once we broke free, we would never look back.