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Everyone has their own dirty secret. Something that would truly destroy a person if it were to be revealed.
This is all Ahira could think of, she was the kind of gal to see the bad in a person before the good. She wasn't liked much; she...
Yesterday's events flood through my mind as I sit up on my bed, I aimlessly stare into space and steady my thoughts.
I limp to the bathroom and obtain the first aid kit from my drawer, I get out a piece of cotton and dip it into some rubbing alcohol before treating the small cuts on my leg.
The familiar sting of pain overtakes me for a second before I go in for another cotton ball. Once finished, I use the tweezers to take out any spare pieces of glass. I squeeze my eyes shut as I wriggle in the open wounds. My groans fill the bathroom, it throbs as I go to retrieve another piece. The unbearable feeling spreads through the whole length of my lower body.
The biggest gash I could feel was on the backside of my ribs - where Dad had kicked me. I take off my shirt and look at myself in disgust. The girl in the mirror didn't look sad, she looked physically broken. I use my good hand to feel around my stomach, it was at this moment that I realised that the girl I was looking at was me. Each time she flinched at a certain spot or let out a shaky breath, so did I.
I was deteriorating for the hope that Dad could fix himself, every time this happens I lose a little happiness. Every person has their own secret, mine was that me and the girl in the mirror were the same person. That there's a part of me who's gullible and naïve and still hopes to view her father with a glass half full instead of half empty, that there was a part of me who still wanted to stay oblivious to his wrongdoings for the goodness of our broken family.
I wipe away a few stray tears and turn on the shower to its hottest setting. I don't use too much soap on myself but enough to make me seem somewhat clean I allow the tears to blend in with the cascading water as the drips drown out my sounds of anguish. I hated myself for everything I'm putting up with but everyone else has abandoned my father, how could I do the same?
I change into baggy clothes to allow my bruises to breathe and pack my bag to go to Lydia's house. I had taken too much time tending to my body to make any food. I give one more look in the mirror and smile to myself, trying to eliminate any remains of sadness that occurred from yesterday.
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Going to a private school meant seeing rich kids but even Lydia too? Her house was massive maybe even bigger than mine. I knock on the door and see Silas answer it.
He stares at me for a moment and takes in my look, I wouldn't blame him. I was in a big baggy jacket and an oversized long-sleeved shirt with my Dad's old jeans that nearly reached the floor. I probably looked terrible.
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(That's her outfit^^^)
"Are you going to let me in or stare at me all day?" I raise my eyebrows
"There is nothing to look at when it comes to you. Don't put yourself on such a high level" Silas nonchalantly replies.
I don't reply to his words and simply stare at him for a second, Silas steps aside and closes the door behind me. I walk into the main room and hear a few shouts from the right of the house.
