Damaged Goods

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A damaged young man finds his sister, hope, and love.
17k words
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Author's Note

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Please note that violent abuse is a key part of this work. It is briefly described at the beginning of the story and discussed several times by its characters. If this is something that offends you or especially if this could cause you distress, please skip it.

Thank you, as always, for reading.

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Murder

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I remember very little of that night. My first memory is coming out of my room and seeing dad holding Marilyn's arm. He was dragging her down the hallway. She was crying and trying to resist him but he wouldn't stop. I didn't know where he was taking her or what he would do to her but I feared it instinctively. I had to do something and I found courage in my rage. I loved her. He could hit me if he wanted, but he wouldn't beat her anymore. Ever.

My next memory is standing between dad and her, shouting, telling him that I'd kill him before I'd let him hurt her. I remember being on the ground after that, and feeling more pain than I ever had before. He was over me, bringing his fist down again and again. His eyes were cold and dead. Like a rage-filled corpse. Then I heard mom's voice and he was gone.

The last memory that I have of that night is Marilyn kneeling next to me, holding my hand, telling me that I'd be ok. I tried to get her attention. Tried to get her to run but she wouldn't. She just sat there, crying and trying to make me feel better, telling me all the while that I would be all right. I was sure that I was dying, but in the moment I was amazed at her courage and kindness. I think I fell in love with her then, in an innocent, childish way.

That was the last time that I saw her for five years.

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Court

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He sat there, looking for all the world like a reformed citizen, ready to be released into the world. His hair slicked back, clean shaven. Even holding a bible and sitting with the chaplain.

Apparently, he was a model prisoner. He did all his work well and on time. He hadn't been involved in any violence in over a year.

It made me fucking sick. It was a farce. There was no force, supernatural or otherwise, that could reform that monster. The mere fact that he was up for parole after only five years was a result of the ridiculous plea bargain that the District Attorney took to avoid a costly and long trial. No one cared much about the death of a poor addict. Even if she was my mom.

"Samuel Barnes, you are invited to speak as both a victim of the parolee and a relative of another victim."

The room was smaller and less like a courtroom than I had expected. There was a table with five chairs for members of the Parole board, seating for the parolee to the side, and few short rows of chairs for people like me. I suppose if I hadn't been in rooms like this, I might be intimidated by the official nature of the proceedings. But I was not a good person, and I had been.

"I currently live quite far away. I took unpaid time off and drove seven hours to be here. It is a small price to pay to be able to speak to you about the man that you are considering releasing into the world.

"My father cannot be reformed. You could no reform him then you could reform a rabid dog. It is his nature to be violent and abuse those weaker than himself. He beat me starting when I was eight. He beat my sister, although less so because I tried to stand up to him. That was what started the fight between my parents.

"I stood up to him, so he beat me. Unlike previous times, he would not stop. He would like you ladies and gentlemen to believe that the drugs amplified his rage. I'm here to tell you that I remember little of that day as I was deeply concussed, but I remember his dead eyes as he hit me over and over. When our mother tried to stop him he got a knife from the kitchen and stabbed her. He didn't rush, but did all of it slowly and deliberately. I recommend that you look at the crime scene photo and ask yourself if you would feel comfortable with him being on the outside with your families.

"The plea he made was done so without consulting either myself or my sister. He murdered my mother. He would have come back to murder me except that he heard sirens and fled. Because of him I am without my mother. Because of him I have not seen my sister in five years. We were close. Now we are lost.

"Lastly, I'd like to add that while I do not have an adult criminal record, my now-sealed juvenile record contains many examples of fights and casual violence. These were my choices and my responsibility. I am forced to conclude, however, if I had a father who was not violent and abusive that I would most likely not have these defects in my character.

"Thank you for your time."

One of the parole board members, and older man in his Sunday best, spoke

"If I may, what is your reaction to the parolee finding Jesus as well as having the support of the prison chaplain, a man of demonstrated virtue and judgement."

I couldn't tell if he was supporting my father or genuinely wanted my opinion. Well, he would get it.

"I am not a religious person. I don't live in the world that God made. I live in the world that my father made, and its broken and awful. If he found Jesus here, good for him. They can share a cell. If he wants forgiveness in the next world then he can have it. After dying in prison in this one."

I sat back down, bile in my mouth. I stared at where my father sat, off to the side of the room. I didn't glare, but I wanted him to see I wasn't afraid of him. I knew, looking at him, that if he ever got out, I would kill him. He could have his martyrdom. Jesus would like that.

"Thank you, Mr. Barnes. We very much appreciate your time and opinion and it will factor in our deliberations. Our final verdict will be made known tomorrow by noon."

Well, that was it. The fucker would either get out or he would rot. I stood up and left, pulling my tie off. One more thing to do while I was in town. This part of the trip had made me sad and angry. I was glad to have it over with.

The next part I looked forward to, but I was terrified of it. Was it actually her? Would she even want to see me? Was I someone who she should see? I didn't know, but I had to find out. I had to know. Billy understood. He told me it was a good idea to look for my sister, but not to get my hopes up.

Too late, I thought. My hopes were slightly above ground, which made them far too high for my liking. Well, no sense in procrastinating. If I left now I'd probably arrive around the time she got back from school. I went to my fate.

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Reunited

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It was a really lovely brick house in an older part of town. Nice. Not rich, but nice. The streets were wide and well-lit. Just down the road were shops and restaurants. So far, all boded well.

Still, some of the worst kinds of things happened in houses like this.

I stepped up to the door and knocked. I had put my tie back on, hoping that it would make me look less like a disreputable thug.

The inner door opened and a girl appeared. She was short, maybe fifteen, with dark hair. Too young and the wrong looks for my sister. She kept the outer security door closed and locked. Very smart.

"Hello?" she said. There was neither fear nor interest in her tone. I put on my most friendly smile.

"Hi, my name is Samuel Barnes. I'm sorry for dropping by but I couldn't find a phone number for the house. Could I speak to one of your parents?"

She nodded and walked off.

"Moooooom. There's a dude here to talk to you."

Well, at least I was a dude. That was better than weirdo or creep.

A woman, definitely the girl's biological mother, appeared. She was a little taller, a little less slender, but had the same dark hair and eyes. She smiled warmly, but still kept the outer security door closed.

"Hi. I'm Samuel Barnes. I'm sorry to just drop by, but I was in town already and...well. I'm Marilyn's brother."

No sense in delaying it. Either that would make sense or it wouldn't. The private investigator I had hired with nearly six months of my salary had definitely broken some laws to find this address, but I wasn't complaining. If this was where she lived he was worth far more.

At first, the woman looked confused. Then I could see a dawning realization appear on her face. A little apprehension but mostly just honest shock. Then she smiled much more widely. I felt some of the tension release from within me.

"Oh my god. You must be him. You look so much like her. And your eyes! Exactly the same," she unlocked the door, "Come in, come in! I can't believe you found her before she found you. She was trying all kinds of things. I'm Beth. The laconic girl you met is, well, Marilyn's younger sister, Jane."

So she was looking for me? That was a good sign. She had just turned eighteen, which was partially why I decided to look for her. As an adult, I figured, she'd be equipped to meet me and to decide if she wanted me in her life or not. I'd respect her decision either way. But I had to see her. To know that she wasn't like me.

I stepped inside. The house smelled clean and vaguely of food. So far, so good.

"Thank you," I said sincerely, "Is Marilyn here?"

"No," Beth said, leading me to the living room, "but she should be home soon. She has drama club after school today, but then she generally comes straight home. Would you mind waiting for her? Oh, and please say you'll stay for dinner. You have to. All of us have been wanting to meet you for, well, years."

Huh. That was unexpected. I had my ID all ready to show them and had even brought some other stuff like my birth certificate and some mail to show my address. I was expecting some questions about my identity, but Marilyn's adopted mom recognized me without them.

"Yes, I'd love to sit with you. But I'll only stay for dinner if Marilyn is comfortable with it. Its been years and...well I don't know if she's going to be ready or happy to see me."

Beth looked confused, but her smile barely wavered.

"Oh. Well, yes that is thoughtful. But I'm sure she'll want you to stay."

After that I was gently interrogated. Jane showed up and watched me like I was a new and exciting curiosity. Occasionally smiling or even laughing at something I said. I wasn't sure why but she seemed like someone who my sister would bond with. Marilyn loved taking care of smaller kids. She was a natural at it even five years ago.

I told Beth, well, not precisely lies. I implied rather than stated that some of my foster homes had been a little rough. She seemed offended by the very idea.

"Oh honey. You should know that we...we tried to find you when we first started the adoption papers for Marilyn. She insisted and, well, we agreed that you should be together. But we were told that you were going to be separated. That the decision had been made and nothing could be done to change it. I'm so sorry."

Here she was. The woman who had taken my sister into her home, and treated her like her own blood. And she was apologizing to me for not being able to find me. Incredible. I began to relax a little. I still wouldn't be sure until I talked to Marilyn, but these people seemed...good.

By the time I got Beth caught up on my life, including the incredibly exciting world of working in a machine shop, a girl I suspected was a little older than I was showed up. She was introduced as Karla, and she went to the local city college, which was actually pretty good. So Marilyn had both an older and a younger sister here. Marilyn may not have much privacy here but I hoped that she at least got along with her siblings. Her adopted father...hell lets just call him her real father, Harlan, wouldn't be home until much later tonight. Probably after or during dinner. By the time I had spoken with Karla I was actually looking forward to meeting him. His family was kind and warm and I had no reason to suspect that he would be different.

My train of thought derailed when I heard a loud thump and a sharp intake of breath. I turned and looked towards the door. Yes. She looked different. Much different. But the way she held herself, her fine, girl-next-door features, her eyes. I would have recognized her anywhere. She had apparently dropped her bag in shock, so I guessed that she recognized me as well.

She was taller than her older sister, but not much. I was shocked for a moment as the last time I had seen her she had been a skinny little thing. She was still slender, but now her whole body had an athletic tone. Her curves were not hidden by her tight jeans or the simple shapeless top that hung off of her shoulders, which were smooth and tanned. Her hair was a lighter brown than mine, and she had it shoulder length in a simple pony tail. She never was one to spend a ton of time on her hair. Her eyes were just like mine, deep, dark blue.

She was frozen in place, so I stood up. I didn't approach her though. Her mouth was open and I knew that she was in shock, but it was very hard to tell if she was afraid of me or not. If she was freaked out, I would exit immediately after leaving contact information with her mother. I had decided that was the best course of action before I even came here.

I could see that she was doing what I had done. Slowly taking me in, top to bottom. I got the sensation that she was checking me out the same way she might a boy at her school and that amused me a little and made me feel a little more confident. Women didn't look at me like that, generally speaking. I felt a slight flush. I hoped it would be ignored.

Our eyes met. I felt something. A stirring from deep within me, reaching out and meeting her gaze. I didn't understand it. It worried me a bit, but I was simultaneously filled with such warmth that it was hard to even be a little anxious. Neither of us was willing to avert our gaze. She bit her lip.

Then, finally, the silence was broken. Not by words, but by movement and tears.

Simultaneously she started to both cry and move towards me. Into my arms. By the time we were hugging she was openly sobbing. I was crying too. She looked...so good. So happy. She had been ok. After all this time I finally knew she had ended up with the right family.

There were no words. I think Beth and Karen were both crying as well. Jane might have been too cool to do so openly so she left the room. I didn't feel embarrassed about this. After everything I had seen and done, crying in front of strangers seemed pretty tame.

And here she was. Alive, warm, and hugging me so tight that it was actually a little hard to breathe. I probably was doing the same. After about a minute she let me go and stepped back, but kept holding my hands in hers, as if she were afraid that I'd try to get away.

"I was looking for you. All over! I even found your first foster family...but no one knew where you were now. What happened to you? Why didn't you get in touch?"

Her questions came out in a rush. I think she intended them as simply asking for explanations. But inside, I could feel an accusation. It was nothing I hadn't felt before. By the time I was out of hell and placed with Billy, I was almost an adult. And I realized that maybe I shouldn't find Marilyn until she was too. I still looked but I never found her.

I must have looked guilty because she shook her head.

"No, I didn't mean...I just...are you ok?"

I laughed. I was, at that moment, better than ok.

"Yeah, I am. You?"

She nodded and laughed. I could hear it in that laugh. Years of kindness, love, attention. She had a real family here, and she was doing well. Things weren't perfect, but that was enough for me. And my god was she beautiful.

"I ended up hiring someone because I couldn't find you. He was a little shady, I think, but I'm not complaining. I honestly had no idea where you were until a week ago. All I had was an address and I wasn't sure you were, well, you. I had to drive back to the city anyway so I just waited. And here I am."

Beth interjected.

"He's agreed to stay for dinner. Why don't you guys go up to your room and get caught up? I'll call you when the foods ready and then the rest of the family can interrogate him too."

No one had looked at this tall stranger in their house and been anything but welcoming. I'd never been to a house like this before. I wasn't even sure that they existed.

Marilyn motioned for me to follow her up the stairs and I did. I guess I'd find out exactly how far she wanted me to be in her life soon enough.

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Caught Up

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It turned out there were three floors, two of them large and one of them smaller. Her and her sisters got the whole second floor and her parents had the third to themselves. I guess they did well for themselves. It was a lovely house. The decor was simple, and things looked worn and used. Lived in, but neat, not messy.

To my shock this also applied to Marilyn's room.

"Here it is," she said, closing the door behind us and doing a little twirl, "pretty nice, huh?"

It was. She had clearly decorated it, the deep greens were her favorite and there were posters of natural scenes of mountains and forests. There was even one painting of pine trees by a waterfall. It was pretty good. It wasn't spotless, but it was clean and organized.

"This can't be your room. There aren't any clothes on the floor."

She laughed and hit me.

"Mom, uh, I mean, Beth...she's really strict about cleaning up after yourself."

I smiled at the correction she had made for my benefit.

"It's really nice and I can tell you arranged it and decorated it. And you can call her mom in front of me. I understand and I'm...really happy that you found your way here."

My voice hitched a little on the last part. My greatest fear for the last five years was that she'd been in the same sort of places that I was. I was almost overwhelmed with relief, but I didn't want to show it. And if her parents treated her so well that she called them mom and dad, then that made me happy too.

She smiled really broadly and sat down on the bed. I sat with her. She just looked into my eyes again, so intensely. I think it should have been uncomfortable, but it felt so natural, so right. Eventually she blushed and looked away.

"I'm sorry, I just can't get enough of...you know, seeing you. I never thought I would. I hoped but..."

"Your mom told me that you looked for me in a lot of different ways. I did too. I guess I got lucky first."

"Yeah. Karla and Jane, you met them?"

I nodded and she continued.

"They helped me. They've helped me for years, on and off. Going to libraries and courthouses, doing searches on the internet, requesting documents. I was kind of a pain in the ass when I got here, but they've always been great. I love them."

"They were both really nice to me. Well, Jane was quiet, but polite. And Karla even laughed at my jokes," I leaned in conspiratorially, "she's pretty cute by the way. Do you think you can hook me up?"

"Eww, no!" Marilyn said, laughing, "No dating my sisters! Now I know its you, cuz you're a perv."

Her face turned a little serious.

"Is there anyone? I mean wherever you're living? Like a girlfriend or something."

"I'm married. Got a kid and another on the way," I said with forced casualness.

Her mouth dropped, but then she caught on and hit me.

"Oh my god you're such an asshole. Definitely my brother."

I laughed.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. No. I don't have a girlfriend. I guess I've dated a little, but never had the spark. You?"