Cuts, Scars, & Bruises.

please forgive my spelling and grammer mistakes. I think I got most of them, but knowing me, they're probably a ton left. Anywho on with the show!

Chapter 1::: Part 1  

¤ CUTS, SCARS, BRUISES ¤

First-sighting  

August 18th.  

Day 1

***** 

I woke up with a start, jerking upright in my bed. Ouch. I felt like an old punching bag. Making my way from my bed to the bathroom I realized that my ankle didn't feel as bad as yesterday; I could actually walk without a gimp.

When I looked into the mirror i tried to imagine what I would look like to strangers. A girl, with pale white skin around 5'4". Long brown hair that reached the middle of my back. Heart shaped face with brown fringe cutting across my forehead. Dull brown eyes, thin brown eyebrows. Freckles going across my cheek, over my nose and on to the other side. Small, faint pink lips. A decent chest, proportionate body size.

And then they'd see the bruises. The light, soon to be darker, purple ring around my left eye. The fading yellowish-green shape on my right cheekbone. The week old swollen lip from his foot. In my bra and underwear, you could see the developing bruises in the shapes of hands on my arms, where he'd gripped too hard. The wrapping on my elbow to keep it in place while it healed from the sprain; from him pulling me up the stairs to my bed. The deep purple bruise on the skin above my ribcage, from where he'd kicked me last night. The indented scar on my left side hip where he'd cut me with his nails as he pulled me closer to him. The scabs and scars on my legs where his belt had jammed into them, because he was to urgent to take his pants all the way off.

I can't help but think id be pretty without my fathers marks.

I quickly brushed my teeth and hair. I didn't bother with a shower this morning because id taken on last night to wash the dirty, nasty, horrible feeling of 'him' off of me. I made sure to put concealer over my eye so that when the bruise finished filling out it wouldn't look too terrible. I walked back into my bedroom heading for the closet putting on a pair of dark jeans, long sleeved grey tee shirt, and my signature black hoodie. I found clean socks and my pink converse and pulled them on. I felt safe in these clothes; nobody could make-fun, or tease me about the marks on my skin in them.

I used to wish I could wear clothes that other girls did. Clothes that showed off my neck, arms, legs; but that dream was squashed by the thought of them being disgusted by my scars and cuts. Nobody could love this body in its condition I was repulsive to human eyes and minds; 'he' told me so every night, nobody but 'him' could find me attractive.

I grabbed my bookbag and threw it over my shoulder; I had a long walk to the school from here. When I silently closed my door, and walked down the hallway, I could hear him snoring loudly in his room. How I wish he'd just stay in there, away from the alcohol, away from me. I walked down the stairs and out the front door.  

............................. 

As I approached the school nobody waved at me, yelled my name, ran up and gave me a high-five. They just ignored me like usual. The last time anyone tried getting my attention was in 3rd grade when my home life changed. I had formed an icy glare for anyone who tried messing with me since then. They would all just laugh and torment me if they knew the truth.

****

I drove down the street on my way to school. I was a block away when I saw her, this tiny insignificant girl in a black hoodie. She looked like she was completely blocking everyone out. I don't know why I even noticed her, she wasn't my usual type: tall, blonde, talkative, sporty/peppy cheerleader, party girl. She was short and had long brown hair. She looked like someone who was socially out casted, someone that was awkward and shy around other people. Plus she just looked like the kind of girl that'd rather punch you in the face, rather then say 'hello'.

Someone behind me honked, and I realized I've just been cruising down the street at 10MPH. I quickly snapped out of my haze brought on by 'her' and sped down the street to the school.  

............................................. 

I checked in to the school's office and gotten my class schedule, locker, and books, map of the school, and planner. I headed out the door. The halls were still busy with activity. People were talking, running to class, and getting things out of their lockers. I looked at my map of the school and found my first class- Jr. English.