Hunters

one

(Four years later)

I stood in front of my mirror, my shirt lifted to reveal the purple bruise blossoming over my left hip. The yellow- brown one on my cheek was fading and I could cover it with my makeup now. My fingers gently prodded my hip and I shut my eyes tightly, tears springing into them as pain shot through my body. I smoothed my shirt back into place and turned away from the mirror, sprawling out over the naked bed in my room.

My mom and I had run across the country to escape my dad after he’d hit and nearly killed me. My hand shot to cover my neck, picturing the bruised fingerprints in my skin from where he’d choked me. I knew my mom missed him and refused to look at me unless my bruises were covered, but I couldn’t help getting angry all over again at her denial of what my father had done.

Too jumpy to sit still for long, I stood and continued unpacking the boxes that littered my floor. We’d only been able to grab a few of our belongings, but I’d managed to pack all my clothes into the suitcase and boxes. There weren’t any hangers yet, so I pulled out the sheets I’d snagged on our way out of the house. I quickly made my bed and just as I was finishing, I heard the door downstairs open.

“Willow? Are you upstairs?”

“Yeah, did you get hangers?” I called out my door as I collapsed an empty box and stuck it out in the hall.

“Yes, I did. Come take what you need.”

I went downstairs and grabbed a few bundles of hangers, set them on the stairs and went into the kitchen in search of food to quiet my grumbling stomach. Pouring myself a glass of milk and picking an apple from the fridge, I leaned against the counter, staring out the window, staring into the woods behind our house.

“When do I start school?”

“Tomorrow. Finish unpacking tonight. I don’t want to be tripping over random boxes for the next few months.”

I rolled my eyes and drained the milk, then placed the glass in the dishwasher and walked back upstairs with the hangers in one hand, polishing the apple against my shirt with the other before biting into it.

Back in my room, I shoved my window open and let the breeze rush in, instantly cooling the air. I set my apple on the desk before turning back to my clothes and hanging them in the closet. When I’d finished, I grabbed the apple and continued to eat it as I walked downstairs and outside to grab my backpack from the car. I tossed the apple core into the woods as I closed the door to our house, then dropped my bag by the door before climbing back up to my room. My eyes slid shut and I was out before my head hit the pillow.

In the morning, I stood shivering in the crisp air outside in a pair of jeans, a sweater and my Ugg boots. For five minutes, I stood at the end of my driveway, watching my breath puff out of my mouth in a cloud. The bus rattled to stop in front of me and I got on, ducking my head under all the stares. I slouched into the seat right behind the driver. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up and I knew someone was watching me. I glanced over the seats and found a guy staring at me. At the next stop, a redheaded girl with shoulder-length hair got on, sashaying her way to the back of the bus. Her body broke apart the stare-down and I swiveled back around to look out the window.

When the bus finally reached the school, I quickly got off and made my way to the guidance office. The counselor I was assigned to waved me into her office and had me sit in the chair on the other side of her desk. I set my backpack on the ground and watched her as she clicked away at the computer for a few minutes before the printer jumped to life and spit out a paper that looked like my schedule.

“How do you like Shrewsbury so far Willow?” She asked me absent-mindedly.

“It’s not what I expected, to say the truth.” I replied, fiddling with the hem of my sweater. She nodded in understanding as she grabbed the paper from the printer and handed it to me.