You wake up early in the morning, not wanting to wake up, really. Your head hurts and you're not sure why.

Maybe because of last night. Your brother slipped something in your drink and you knew it. You told him no,

told him you're far too young. He doesn't listen and you comply. Sometimes you hate him, sometimes you

want to run away into the warm, comforting arms of your eldest, Kevin. But you can't, you love Joe, you

don't want him to hate you. You step out of bed, practically falling as your legs quiver under you. You stand

up straight for some few seconds before walking to the bathroom. He's asleep; you know this because you

see him. His eyes shut, blanket wrapped around his waist. You find it appealing and want to curl up next to

him. Mainly because you're still tired. Joe is warm, always so warm..
You shake him off your mind and continue to the bathroom. Standing on your tip-toes, you look into the

mirror. Sometimes you don't like what you see, sometimes you think you're not good enough. But your mind

changes as you realize that someone loves you. You don't have to be good enough because the person you

love, loves you back. You smile and take off your shirt. There's bruises but you don't mind. You know they're

there and the reason why but you love that reason. Running your finger over them, you wince at the pain but

there's this feeling in your chest. You feel your heart pound fast and it's almost a drug; the happiness you

feel. Smiling again, you start your shower. You don't wait for the water and just step into the cold. It feels

nice as your back touches the wall. You close your eyes and think. Think of all the things people tell you.

How they say you're awfuly mature for a thirteen year old. You think of how you hardly see Nick or Kevin and

how you miss them dearly. Your eyes open as the door does, too. You glance through the glass door even though you don't need too.

You know who it is and you smile. Part of you is nervous because you're shy. You see him getting closer and

his hand reach the handle. He slides the door open and just looks at you. No where but your eyes and you

love that. He seems to be in a good mood, seems gentle. You blink, making sure you're not dreaming but he

grabs you and kisses you. It's soft but his grip is hard. You want to cry because it hurts but he losens up. He

looks at you again and says that he's sorry. You know he means it and you kiss him to let him know. He

smiles into the kiss, and that makes you happy. To know that he's happy. He slides his arm around you, and

tries to pull you against him. You almost fall, making a little sound, and you put your hands on his chest, to

keep a small distance. But he kisses you a too little roughly, causing you to wimper. You apologize, and look down. Mumbling that you need to finish your shower. He frowns, and says okay.

Telling you to hurry up, and that he's going to start breakfast. You nod, and close the shower door as he

leaves the bathroom. You let out a sigh, feeling relieved. You thought that he would be different today. He

sort of is. He's in a better mood than he normally is. And that makes you feel a tiny bit better. Makes you feel

more safe. He does make you feel safe, but you never know what he's going to. He does the most

unexpected things, and that has you looking out for yourself all the time. He leaves you wondering. And you hate it. But you love him. And you know you can't stay mad at him. You

hurry up and try to finish your shower before he's done making breakfast. Because he hates when you're not

right there when you're supposed to be. You're on his time, not your own. And he gets annoyed when you

don't do as said. You've already learned your lesson. And you're not going to mess up again. Never again. Ever since, you've

listened to everything your brother has told you. You've listened to everything anyone tells you. In fear of

being hurt. You know that Kevin wouldn't mind, though. He's not like Joe. No one is like him. You step out of

the shower, and hurriedly dry off. Throwing your clothes on. You make sure to wipe up the floor, because

Joseph hates it when the floor is wet. You take the towels, and go to the garage. Throwing them in the

washing machine. You leave the garage, and go straight to the kitchen. To find him bringing two plates to

the table. He was already done, and he had the pans in the sink. You're just in time, he tells you, calling you

a good boy. He kisses you on the cheek, and sits down right next to you. You're suspicous, he rarely calls

you a good boy. You haven't done anything wrong, but it's just surprising when he's this nice. Only when he

is in a good mood does he call you that. You smile, and peck him on the lips, telling him thank you. You start

eating, and you tell him you like it. Say that it's good. You always enjoyed his cooking. You thought, out of

everyone, he was best. Even when you all lived together with your parents, you wanted him to cook for you

when they weren't home. If someone else offered to cook, you would ask Joe to. And he would be happy to. You both finish eating, and you clean up the table, and bring the plates to the sink. And you do the dishes.

You always made sure to have all of your chores done. Even if you didn't have them, you would find

something. Because that made Joe happy. If you did something without being told. It made him go easier on

you. He wouldn't be as rough. You're done and you pat yourself on the back in your mind. You're proud. Joe's on the couch and he's

watching the news. He doesn't really watch anything but. He says it's good to know what's going on in the

world and that you don't need reality TV when you have the news. Sometimes it makes you laugh because

it's true. You dry your hands and walk up to the couch. Joe doesn't move so you stand there. You look at him and his

eyes are glued to the television. You look at it as well and watch. Something about a burning building is

being talked about but you can't really concentrate on it. You look back at Joe and he's staring at you. It scares you for a second but then he smiles and scoots over.

He tells you to not be scared, and to ask when you want something. But you don't take his advice and you

probably never will. You're scared to death of him and you shouldn't be. You're too scared to tell him

anything at all. Joe looks at you and scoots closer, taking you into his arms. This frightens you, too. He doesn't know his

own strength. He looks into your eyes and whispers something. You can't hear because everything seems too loud. From

the TV to the cars outside. You can't hear him. He smiles as you search his eyes and it looks like he's crying.

But he couldn't be because he never cries. You've never seen it before but here it is, right in front of you.

Joe's tears are running down his face and you don't know why. Suddenly things are quiet as he let's go of

you. All you hear now is the slow thump of your heart but Joe is still crying. You want to comfort him so bad

that it hurts. You want to ask him so you do. He looks at you for a second, almost like you should already

know. He says that he told you that he loved you. He's crying again, slightly choking on his words but

finishing. He says that you didn't say it back. You understand now and you say that you're sorry. You hug

him and kiss him. You tell him that he should already know that you love him but he doesn't take it well and

pins you down. You get scared as he sqeezes your wrists. He tells you that that's not the point, he says that

you should always say it back, no matter what. His touch gets harder and you start to wonder if you'll have

marks tomorrow. He yells. There's no words, just yelling. He's mad at you and you're ready for it, whatever

it is. But he lets go and you let out a breath. You don't dare to move so you cry. You hate crying infront of

Joe because last time he called you pathetic. But this time is different, he kisses your wrists and whispers in

your ear. He whispers that he shouldn't have overreacted and he's sorry. He wipes your tears away and

touches your cheek. He shushes you and laughs because you have the hiccups. He calls you beautiful. You

think it's cheesy but appreciate it. He runs his fingers on your skin beneath your shirt. You tell him it hurts

and he asks why. You're afraid to tell him but he looks himself. He pauses and softly kisses your skin. You

find it sweet and touch his hair. He lays his head onto your stomach and he's warm. His thumb is slowly

grazing your skin and you make a sound. He smiles up at you, and kisses you. In between kisses, you tell

him you love him, apolagizing. You feel bad for not hearing him. But in a way, you find it cute that he got sad

over something like that. It makes you feel loved. You know that he truly cares about you. But you know you

should listen to him. Joe is a very serious person. And you never want to do something wrong in front of

him. He's not going to take that. And he also doesn't let anything go. He asks you if you mean it, and you tell him yes. His eyes are still a little watery, and you wipe them. Then

he asks you if you know that you're his, and his only. His expression, you can't figure out. But you know he

means it. And you nod. You don't want to make the same mistake, and do nothing. And give him the wrong

idea. I know, you tell him, and you hug him tightly. So he knows. You try to lift the mood, and you say

something child-like, and cheesey. And you tell him that he belongs to you only, and that makes him laugh.

He says yes, and gets off you. Going to the other side of the couch, he holds his arms out. You take a deep

breath, and force a smile on your face, crawling into his lap. You face him, because you know he'll end up

telling you to. He always does. He slips his hand under your shirt, and rubs your back. You find it comforting,

and you nuzzle your face into his neck, letting out a content sigh. And you really want to stay there forever,

and fall asleep. But Joe hates it when you sleep during the day. He prefers having a normal sleeping

schedule. You'll get in trouble if you sleep during the day, it irritates Joe. And it also does if you're not in bed

with him at a certain time. He's very strict, and it scares you. So much. Because you feel like you're not good

enough, and that you'll never give him what he wants. You try. But sometimes you don't always succeed. You yawn, and cover your mouth. You don't want him to say anything. And he pulls away, and looks at you.

He asks you if you're tired, and you stare at him for a second. Searching for any hint that he's mad, and he

doesn't at all look like it. You nod hesitantly, and he smiles softly. Kissing you lightly on the lips, and he holds

onto you carefully as he stands. He carrys you to your's and his room, and lets you down. You sit on the

bed, and watch as he closes the door. He stands in front of you, and asks if you want to take a nap. He

never allows it, because he knows that sometimes you wake up with a headache, and he usually thinks of it

as wasting time. And he says that you're weak, and you could be spending your time getting things done.

You tell him that you kind of do, and that it's only this once. And you sit there, waiting for his response. He

just nods, still with a smile. You've never seen him smile so much in a day. It's rare. He pulls the blankets

back on the bed, and he goes over to you, taking off your shirt. You let him, because you're scared that

something will happen if you push him away. And he unbuttons your pants, and you stand. So that he can

take them off. Leaving you only in your boxers. He tells you to get in bed, and you do so. He undresses,

also, and gets in bed with you. He brings you close to him. And he holds you tightly. You try to move a bit,

because it's uncomfortable. And he tangles your legs together, playing with your hair. You don't know why

he's been so nice today. It's normal that he's this attached. You pull your legs away from his, and you crawl on top of him. You're always shy and scared, never this

open. You just see him smile, and that's a good sign. So you feel better. You feel comfortable. You wish you

could feel this comfortable all the time and not have to worry. Joe always says that God hands you a life and

you take it. No questions asked. You don't care because you actually feel happy but you wish you weren't

scared all the time. You want to tell him and maybe this is the time to tell him. You take a deep breath and

look into his eyes. He's still smiling and it's beautiful. He asks you if something's on your mind and you say

yes. He's expecting you to tell him so you do. You tell him that you're afraid. He asks of what and you tell

him the truth. You tell him that you're scared of him. Joe's looking at you now and you don't know what to

expect but it's another smile. He hugs you and tells you that he's trying. Tells you that he's trying to change. He admits to being strict and he knows that you're scared. He kisses you over and over again. You love it

and you love him. You know you're young, you know that this is sin but you don't care. You take the kiss

deeper and Joe grabs your waist. He's rough again and you wimper. He's losing control and you can't stop it

so you ignore it. The pain numbs and you're wimpering still, only because you love this. Joe's hand is gone

now but you feel again. This time it's touching you under your boxers. His fingers are roaming and you

whine. His touch almost tickles and you want more but you don't say anything. Joe doesn't like when you're

impatient so you wait it out. He's laughing now and you know why. He likes seing you like this and hearing

you as well. You never understood but you liked when he did this,too. He asks you if you're still tired. You've

forgotten all about the nap so you shake your head no. Joe smiles and starts stroking you. It's tight; his

hand. You're making more noises and everything is blurry so you close your eyes. But you start to feel sad

out of nowhere. Tears are peaking out from the corners of your eyes. He's stops and asks you if he's hurt

you. You tell him no and whipe your tears, telling him that you're alright. He's persistant and asks you again.

This time you tell tell him that you want to be perfect; perfect for him. He sits up a little and kisses

your forehead. He tells you that you are perfect but you don't take it. You name every single one of your

flaws but he just smiles. You're mad now, so you hit him. Not caring what's he's going to do. It doesn't

matter because he's laughing now and he says one thing to you.
"Your flaws make you perfect, Frankie."