Scars

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I'm standing in front of my bathroom mirror, trying to decide the best way to cover the scars that litter my back and upper arms. Thankfully, the new bruises my father left were on my ribs and could be easily covered by my shirt. My scars, on the other hand were a lot harder to hide and cover, but I had to try.

My father didn't like rumors floating around town about us, especially since he was a valued member of our community. We lived in an high end neighborhood, thanks to my fathers company; but it was hell for me. My father was a monster in this house, only out of the public eye though he wouldn't dare ruin his image.

I wish I could say my father's hatred for me started with my mother's death, that he just couldn't stand looking at me because I was her spitting image. But, he's hated me from the moment I was born; because I wasn't the boy he always wanted. He wanted a son to take over his company and all the shady business hidden within it. Mom never wanted to have another baby, due to my father beating her an inch of her life after she didn't provide him with his heir.

She later died in an 'accident' but I believe it was a cover up. I would've died in the accident as well, if it wasn't for a Good Samaritan who pulled me from the wreckage. Mom was DOA at the scene, leaving me with my father to care for me at 5 years old. It was too risky for him to try and have me killed again; plus playing the grieving widower and father was too good of an opportunity to pass up. It was all just a show tho...

It started out with a few hits from his belt as a punishment for 'misbehaving'. Then he started to get creative with his methods of punishments and beatings. His favorite way was to use a knife, making slices on my back, leaving my body covered in scars. When I hit puberty though, things only got worse for me. Dad's friends started to notice, and began to take an interest in me. He would leave me alone with them, to do as they wished; then he would punish me for it.

I had hope that at least school could be my escape from my life at home; but I could never be that lucky. It just seems I was put on this world to be an outlet for others anger. See some of these scars were from Ariel and her group of friends, showing who was in charge in this school; they've hated me since freshman year. The long scar on my stomach was from them shoving me around, and there was a broken railing on the bleachers. I collided with it hard enough for it to cut deep through my skin, requiring a dozen stitches. They left me there bleeding until the janitor found me. They made it their mission to make my life even worse.

Then there was the four boys who hung around her, bullying me in their own way. The Dark Angels... Asher, Jayden, Kason and Logan. That was the name of their crew, although I don't know much only from the rumors I've heard around school. Ariel and Asher have been a thing since sophomore year, and the others hung around them, but they didn't stick with the same girl longer than a week. Even Asher had a few girls here and there that Ariel pretended not to see; she's more worried about the status dating the leader of The Dark Angels gives her.

You see, The Dark Angels had their own way of tormenting me, in more of a sexual harassment way. The occasional smacking of my ass, making crude comments or making sexual gestures. I never knew why any of them started to target me, since I try to keep to myself and stay in the shadows, avoiding everyone. I preferred to be alone and antisocial, because I couldn't trust anyone but myself.

"Sawyer Grace! Hurry your ass up!" My father yelled. Closing my eyes and sighing, grabbing my usual jacket to cover all the scars. I take a deep breath before opening my bedroom door and making my way down the stairs. I swallow hard when I see my dad leaning against the front door, waiting for me. He looks up when he hears me coming and gives me a sickly sweet smile, causing my insides to churn. I carefully reach for the doorknob, hoping he'll just let me walk out the door without any trouble. Just as I pul the door open, he grabs a fist full of my hair, yanking me towards him. "Remember my rules, Sawyer. Keep your mouth shut and don't draw attention. Got it?" He snarled.

I squeezed my eyes closed, hoping he'd let me go soon so I wasn't late for school. When he did finally let me go, I nearly fall on my face from the sudden release. I catch my balance and scamper down to my bike before he can grab me and do anything else. School was no way my safe haven, but staying home any longer scared me to my core. One thing I know for sure was although the kids at school enjoyed hurting me, my father would enjoy killing me. For some odd reason I still wanted to live, but that could change at any moment with how my life seems to be going.

I took my time getting to school, so I could enjoy my small and only chance for peace. My peace was short lived as my eyes fell on the school, while other students were laughing and smiling; I felt as I was crawling back into the lion's den. I carefully climb off my bike and kneel down to lock it to the bike rack, not the greatest idea on my part; turning my back. Before I can even register the sounds of footsteps behind me, my face was crashing against my bike and I cry out from pain. I fall backwards and my hands instantly go to my nose as it throbs in pain. When I pull them away they're covered with blood, along with my shirt.

Snickering came from above me and as I looked up, I see Ariel and her friends smirking at me. "Welcome to senior year pig!" She said before turning and flouncing her way over to Asher and the other Dark Angels with her minions in tow. I let out a shaky breath and push myself up trying to keep my head back, even though I know it wont do me any good. First day and I have blood all over me, great. I hear more laughs as I head to the front entrance and it's none other than The Dark Angels themselves, enjoying my pain as usual.

"Hey Sunny! You got something on your shirt there." Logan called out with a laugh.

Sunny.

Not the worst nickname in the world I guess, but it sure annoyed me because that meant he probably doesn't know my real name. He started to call me sunny because of how light my hair gets in the summer sun. But that wasn't the full extent of the joke, he'd make the comments like would the carpet match the drapes if you'd sunbathed naked. It's stupid but Logan and his buddies think its hilarious, but I just choose to ignore their comments.

I pass by with no reply to his comment. Walking straight to the bathroom to check out the damage to my nose and face. After washing off most of the blood from around my nose and hands, my nose doesn't seem to be broken, thankfully. I can already see the bruising starting to form in the corner of my eyes, dammit. I'm sure you're wondering why I've never fought back or cry more about the pain Ariel and her friends cause. Well the truth is about 90% of the time I have more significant injuries that are causing me more pain, than the little injuries they cause.

Right now, I was nursing some bruised ribs and a few bruises on my thighs, that hurt far worse than what Ariel and her goons could do. I sigh as I realize I have been in pain everyday of my life, so this is nothing new and I'm used to it. As I go to walk out of the bathroom, I hear voices so I duck into a stall until they leave.

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