She cries in the dead of night, alone where no one can hear her.

And he cries too. “Luke?” She whispers, tiptoeing to his room. “Luke, you okay?” Her little brother shakes under his covers, and she rushes for his medication. “Oh, Lukey…”

The creak of a door, the patter of footsteps. “Mum?”

“Katy!”

“I was just…Luke just needed his meds, mum. That’s all, honest.”

Her protests fell on deaf ears, and she felt her mum’s hand shoving her in the chest, shoving her against the wall. She slides down onto the floor, refusing to cry, to show her pain.

In her room, music blasting loud, she lifts up her shirt. The bruises cross her ribs, making patterns in shades of black and purple. “Breathe,” she whispers to herself, when she realizes she’s forgotten.

Her breath inhales sharply with pain, the pain of breathing.

She cries in the dead of night, alone where no one can hear her. Because no one wants to hear the screams.