Thirty-five: familiar pain

Temperance

Nervously, I drop my backpack on the mattress I sleep on and then make my way into the living room.

In desolation, I process his harsh words.

I will be going somewhere else for my school. My current school is too far from here for me to continue attending.

"I have to go somewhere else? I like the school I go to now." I don't like the school per say, I only like the friends I have.

Austin turns towards me, wrapping his fingers around my wrist. I bite my tongue as his fingers press into my cuts.

"S-stop that hurts!" I desperately try to pry his hand off of mine.

I feel a rip in my arms, signaling that my cuts have ripped open. I watch in horror as blood seeps through my sleeves.

 My sleeves aren't thick enough to hold the blood, causing the warm liquid to smudge onto Austin's calloused hand.

He lets go of my wrist in disgust and brings his hand with my blood on it to my face. He yanks his hand away from me, studying the liquid on his palm. He glances at me, extending his hand towards me. I flinch, ready for impact before I realize his hand only wiped my blood onto my cheek.

"You're going to a school with Chris and Kenli." Vicki's voice startles me. I didn't know she was in the room.

I hold my injured arm, trying to stop the blood from seeping out as I shake my head no.

"I've gone to MY school my whole life. I don't have to go to the school you want me to go to." I furrow my brows, anger flooding my veins.

How do they have a right to do that? They can't just take me away from a school I have always gone to. The location we live in is still in the range for me to continue to go.

"You'll do what I fucking say." Austin slaps me across my face.

As his hand makes contact with my skin an instant sting takes over, bringing tears to my eyes.

I place my hand on my red cheek where he had just harmed me. Blood in the shape of my hand stains my burning face.

"Next time maybe you'll learn. Maybe your father had the right idea of beating you half to death and selling you out for prostitution." Austin's heartless words send fear to my nerves, causing me to tremble.

Is he going to do that too?

Is he going to beat me every day? Sometimes with the intentions of killing me?

Is he going to sell me out to creeps?

Silence takes over my being as Austin walks away, the clinking of his shoes fading out.

I look at the blood that covers my sleeve, realizing that there is no way to fix the color.

I bite my tongue in frustration and close my hands making crescent moons in my palm. I look up at Vicki, and she snarls in disgust.

"May I go to the bathroom?" I grit my teeth. Even though I am furious I can't risk saying something wrong and getting beat for it.

She nods to answer my question, leaving the room through the front door.

I walk to the bathroom and close the door behind me. I turn on the water, placing it on warm while I pull my sleeve up to my elbow. 

I place my bloody skin under the warm water. My cuts burn causing me to let out a whimper. I wipe all of the blood off my hands.

I turn the water off, grab an old rag from the cabinet, and wipe my hands off.

I squat and open the cabinet below the sink. I move toilet paper and chemical products out of the way.

Bingo!

I found what I am looking for. I get out a roll of bandages and medical tape.

I stand up with the supplies in my hand.

I carefully wrap the bandages around my arm covering my cuts and gently place tape on the bandage to keep them in place.

How will I see Alec?

I can't see him at school and I can't go by the mansion.

I can't see Nicole or Ryan either since I won't be seeing them at school.

I won't be able to see any of the guys I made friends with in Alec's gang.

I don't even have a phone anymore. I could always ask Alec to bring me the one he bought me. Would that be too much of a burden?

I won't be able to see any of my friends.

The friends that are alive.

Then within an instant, my mood changes, and tears build up in my eyes.

Emaline.

She is gone.

In just a few months of knowing her, she became closer to me than anyone else. She was like a sister, she would've had to be my soulmate. Even though I didn't trust her at first, she always had my best interest at heart. She always protected me.

Now she isn't alive.

She isn't alive because I couldn't protect her.

A few choked cries escape my lip, making me slap my hand on the sink counter to keep my balance. My hand slips off and I fall to my knees. My forehead hits against the sink, causing a future bruise to worry about. 

I only stay on the ground for a few moments, letting the dizziness subside as I bring myself to my feet. I make my way to the room I sleep in, closing the door behind me.

I place the tape and bandages on the floor. I lift up a corner of my mattress, immediately spotting a razor I have broken out of a pencil sharpener.

I take the razor in my hand and sit on the mattress. I pull down a side of my pants to reveal old and new cuts. Some are so old that they have turned into ugly scars.

I take the razor and place it on my skin. There is no clean skin, skin without cuts. So I place the razor on another cut and slide it.

I slide the razor vertically, watching it open other slashes.

I sit in silence as hot tears wet my face. My bloody fingers slip off the razor, forcing me to stop my self-mutilation.

I try my best to wipe the blood off my skin before wrapping a bandage over my hip. My hands shake as I secure the wrapping with medical tape.

I carefully pull my pants back off, trying my hardest to ignore the stinging.

My focus goes back to the razor as I place it under the mattress, not bothering to clean it off.

I take the bandage and tape back into the bathroom after making sure no one is watching.

And I know tomorrow I will be starting a new stage of the hell I call life.

Life is a stupid word. I'm not living. Just surviving. So this life is survival. I'm just breathing.