I would never forgive myself for what happened to Chad. I couldn’t believe how stupid I had been. I had seen the change in him, but I was too wrapped up in my own problems to give it a second thought. I vowed that from that point on, no one would ever hurt my brother again. I put that on my life.
Once we were back at the orphanage, Chad was put into counseling to start him on his road to recovery. He had begun to wet the bed and cry out at night, and would not talk to anyone but me. Even that was very seldom. He would barely eat and he didn’t show interest in anything. More often than not, he would just sit and stare or mope around with his head down.
Therapy seemed to help somewhat, because after about a month he began to communicate more and slowly started to interact again with kids his own age. It was a long process, but I was by his side every step of the way. At first, the head mistress thought it would be better for Chad to attend therapy alone, but I quickly set her straight about that. She didn’t want to make a big deal out of it so she let me have my way. Lucky for her, because as far as I was concerned it wasn’t going to happen any other way.
It was a slow process, but the therapist was very patient and kind. He didn’t pressure Chad about anything. He just allowed him express himself in his own way, and before I knew it he was carrying on like he had known that man for years.
Chad was still very squeamish around any woman but me, and I wasn’t officially a woman yet. He would hide behind me whenever female workers came around, and if I wasn’t around to be his shield then he would just stare at the ground while being spoken to.
Some nights while he was sleeping, I would sit in my bed and watch him sleep. I tried to imagine why anyone would want to hurt a little kid like that. The more I thought about it, the madder it made me. In the end, my anger was always redirected at myself. I knew Chad didn’t have any bad feelings towards me because he was too young to think in those terms, but I had let him down big time and it was killing me inside. Once the anger went away then the tears would come, and blessed sleep would soon follow.
I prayed to God once again to please watch over my little brother and me. Even at that young age I had a strong faith in God. I never questioned Him about why so many bad things happened to us, I just kind of accepted it as my lot in life and dealt with it the best that I could. Besides he gave us all free will right?
The days passed by slowly and I found myself thinking about Marshall a lot. I missed him terribly and wondered if he thought about me at all. He was about the only person I could really talk to besides Chad and he was too young to understand my problems.Finally, summer was over and it was time for school again. I was going to the seventh grade and Chad would be in the second. We would be attending the same charter school as the other children at the orphanage, and oddly enough I was actually looking forward to it. Same shit, different school, so I figured I would make the best out of a situation- not a bad one necessarily, just a situation.
That's it for "The Breaking Point", folks! If you want more, please order your copy at www.black-smithenterprises.com.