Julian’s little hands felt like ice, and his body shivered from the cold. He was huddled up in the corner of the room, trying to keep himself and his younger brother, Jaron, warm. He wished he had a blanket to wrap them in, but all he had was his thin t-shirt, which provided little protection against the freezing temperature.

Outside, he could hear shouting and screaming coming from his mother’s room, and he knew it was only a matter of time before her wrath was unleashed on them as well. He’d seen her do it before, in her drunken stupor, and he and Jaron could not escape the terror.

He closed his eyes, wanting to block out the memories of the violence, and instead focused on how his brother’s tiny body felt in his arms. Julian started rocking him gently, murmuring calming words in his ear, though he himself was as afraid as Jaron.

The shouting and screaming stopped abruptly, and Julian felt relieved. He waited for what felt like hours, his heart pounding in the silence. Julian hardly dared to believe that his mother had actually fainted. Deep down, he knew it was only a matter of time before she would scream again or, worse, enter the room and hit them.

After an indefinite amount of time sitting glued to the floor, Julian’s mother didn’t wake up. Or screamed, or did anything else. Instead, the silence continued to stretch out. Then, finally, after what felt like hours of sitting in silence, he heard the sound of a car outside and someone’s steps walking up the stairs. Julian’s heart raced as he heard a knock on the door. He knew it was the police. The lights and the sounds were unmistakable.

A female police officer kicked open the door and scanned the cramped, icy room with a hardened expression. Julian felt a chill run through his body as she stared at him, her face shifting from a cold glare to a look of empathy. He could almost feel her judgment against his mother as she struggled to maintain her composure and offer a gentle facade.

The police officer peered down at Julian, her eyes filled with kindness. “Hey there, my name is Officer Bethany. What is your name?” Julian looked at her face; he couldn’t see much because of the darkness. “J-Julian…” he mumbled. Officer Bethany nodded. “Could you tell me if you heard anything unusual just now?”

Julian trembled as he searched for the right words. “I-I heard my mom scream, but then nothing. I don’t know why she was screaming, I swear,” he said, casting his gaze downwards and avoiding her stare. Officer Bethany watched Julian thoughtfully for a moment before asking him softly, “Are you sure there isn’t anything else you can tell me?” Julian was quiet for a moment, but eventually, he shook his head and gave a slight shrug, clearly intimidated by the situation.

After a while, Officer Bethany managed to make him tell her more. His lip quivered as he spoke about how his mother had been mean to him and his brother. Officer Bethany remained composed as she listened intently, her face radiating sympathy and compassion. His fear slowly faded as her warmth embraced him. She showed him kindness and understanding that allowed him some comfort, even if it only lasted for a moment.

Officer Bethany asked Julian, “Is there anyone else in this house or town who can take care of you two?” Julian furrowed his brow, trying to think of someone. Finally, after a moment, he spoke up, “My grandmother lives across town. I’ve only met her once, and it wasn’t pleasant. Lots of shouting.” Officer Bethany nodded and carefully scooped up Jaron in her arms. “We’ll take you both to safety,” she said before leaving the room.

Julian followed them silently, feeling unnerved without his brother in his arms. A wave of panic washed over him as he stepped out of the house. His mind was racing, questioning what could be going on. He felt a chill run down his spine as the cold night air brushed against his skin. Fear for his mother’s safety weighed heavily on his chest.

Officer Bethany spoke in a soft tone, trying to appear compassionate. “It’s all going to be alright,” she said. Julian knew that was a lie, but he still managed a weak nod, saying nothing. He had always been able to sense when people were lying, and this was no exception.

The next thing he remembered was that everything seemed to rush by him in a blur. Jaron had been taken away for some reason he couldn’t understand, and Julian had stayed seated on the edge of an ambulance, getting checked out.

Stolen story; please report.

After they finished checking up on him, he was led toward one of the police cars. Julian just went with the motions, not understanding what was happening.

They started driving and drove for about twenty minutes. They arrived at an extensive facility and got inside. Julian was taken to a large room filled with other children, some of whom were in tears; some just had empty looks on their faces.

He felt confused and overwhelmed listening to all the adults’ conversations around him.

Julian stared in disbelief at the stern face of the officer, his gruff voice intoning his name and age to the woman sitting across from him. He resisted the urge to ask what was happening, feeling a knot in his stomach as he realized that neither his mother nor Jaron were present.

He had done something wrong. Tears began to stream down Julian’s face, and he hadn’t even realized he was crying at first. He wore the thin clothes that were his only possession right now. The night’s events and his confusion combined to become an overwhelming burden. Julian curled up on his bed, desperate for sleep. Eventually, sleep claimed him, but it was a fitful sleep.

The sun had just peeped above the horizon when Julian awoke to the sound of muffled voices outside his room. Startled, he remembered what had happened last night. His heart raced as he tried to decipher what was being said as he peeped outside the main room.

He saw a tall guy wearing a police uniform talking to a woman that introduced herself as Karen. “I found a placement for the two brothers brought in last night. Their grandmother has agreed to take them.” Julian’s mind reeled with confusion. Was she talking about him and Jaron? 

He stayed still, afraid to make a sound. Then, he heard a soft knocking at the door. “Come in,” he said reluctantly. The door creaked open, and in walked the very same woman with a warm, gentle smile painted on her face.

“Hi there,” she said in a kind voice. “My name is Karen. I’m a social worker. Do you know what a social worker is?” Julian nodded and said nothing. He knew what she was here for. He began to tremble as Karen explained that his mother had passed away last night.

Julian was silent after Karen informed him of his mother’s passing. He was unfamiliar with what death meant. Even though his mother wasn’t always kind to him, she was the only person he and Jaron had. Was he never going to see her again? His stomach churned with sorrow as tears and snot cascaded down his cheeks.

He knew his mother had died. He’d heard the words, but he couldn’t quite comprehend them. It seemed so impossible, so surreal. She was his mother. She was the only thing he had ever known.

He couldn’t pick up on any of the things Karen was telling him. He climbed into the back of her car and noticed a child’s car seat to his left. To his joy, Karen appeared with Jaron and carefully buckled him into the seat.

Julian was overjoyed to have his baby brother next to him. Jaron obviously had no idea what was happening; he was only two years old. Julian was five and didn’t fully understand what was happening either.

Julian stared out the window, watching the scenery pass by in a blur of green and brown. He could feel the tension in the car, thick and heavy like a fog, and he wanted to break the silence but couldn’t.

Karen’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel; the only sound was the occasional tap of her fingers against the plastic. He tried to find the words to express his feelings but was lost. His mind was a mess of emotions, his throat tight.

Karen’s words tumbled around in his head like an avalanche, their meaning slowly sinking in. He stole a glance at his brother, Jaron’s eyes were closed, and a peaceful expression crossed his face. He wished he could do something to make it all better, but he had nothing to offer.

The car glided through the nicer sections of town, Jaron dozing off beside him, but Julian still gripped onto his hand. He wanted to make sure he was okay. After a lengthy drive, they eventually arrived next to a small house outside of the district they were in previously. Julian couldn’t see other houses for miles ahead. 

Karen finally spoke, her voice breaking the silence. “We’re here,” she said softly, pulling the car up to the curb.

Julian stepped out of the car. He walked towards the white house with its bright red door and windows framed with ivy. The lawn was lush green, full of cheery-looking flowers, and edged by a white picket fence. A tall chimney topped the roof tiles, giving the house a cozy feel. A wooden porch stood off to one side, with two rocking chairs tucked into the corner.

Karen rang the bell, and Amma, their grandmother, appeared in the open doorway. She was a petite woman, and her brown hair was streaked with gray. Her face was lined with wrinkles, and she regarded Julian and Jaron with a stern expression.

Amma and Karen were talking as they stepped inside, voices raised with anger and sadness. Julian stayed with Jaron in the small living room. He started to hear someone cry.

He was sure it was Amma. A few moments later, Amma and Karen emerged from the doorway. Amma’s eyes were red and swollen, her face wet with tears. She cleared her throat and smiled at the two boys.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “Things will be okay from now on. I’ll take care of you both.” The words were comforting, but Julian could feel a small vibration in the back of his mind alerting him it was a lie.