Bruised.

Chapter 5

~

I remember when Leslie saw my first bruise from Mason. We were going to dance (all through school we did dance together) and undressing. She looked over at me, and saw a bruise on my thigh.

She asked me what it was. I knew i couldnt lie to her. I told her about Mason. How the night before i wouldnt sleep with him, so he pushed me to the floor, slapped me multiple times, and kicked me right in the thigh. She was heartbroken. She told me to leave him. I said i couldnt. She knew until the day she died that i was constantly abused, and i dont think she ever got over that.

~

Im on the wooden floor, crying, hand up to fight off the next punch. "What the fuck are you doing home this late?"

"Mason, I-" another slap.

"Forget it. Go make me dinner, and you're sleeping on the couch tonight." With that, he kicks my stomach, spits on me, and walks to the living room.

I have to pull myself together. Pushing up off my elbows, i clamber to my feet. I rush to the kitchen. In the freezer i have frozen multiple dishes. I pull out a lasagna and set the oven on high. My tears drip onto the hot rack, making a sizzling sound.

What would Leslie do if she could see me now?

I take a loaf of bread out of the breadbox, buttering a couple slices and spreading on some garlic.

Would she help me?

I sit, waiting for the timer to go off, my head in my hands and tears everywhere.

Would she even want to help me?

As the timer sounds, i stand quickly and shut it off. I put a load of the food on a giant glass plate, slowely walking towards the living room. Mason is watching some baskettball game. Setting the plate in front of him, i whisper "Here, Mason." He looks up at me, then back down at his food. I quickly walk away, and up the stairs to the bedroom, where i collapse onto the bed. Tears run down my face onto the bedspred.

Would she even want to look at me?

~

After Mason ate, he told me to get stuff to sleep downstairs. i grab a blanket, an old t shirt, athletic shorts, and a medium sized box from under the bed.

I climb down the stairs slowely, shaking and unstable. As soon as i set myself up on the couch, i reach and grab the box. Its labeled 'Leslie Things'. Opening it, i take out one of the many tapes. This one says 'Teenage Dirtbag'.

Leslie was always really musical. She could play every instrument imaginable, just throw it in her hands. She was also a really incredible vocalist as everyone in her family is also. When we were bored little teenagers we use to always get the big old camera out, set it up, and play something.

I stand and shuffle over to the tv, popping the tape in the player. I slowely walk and cuddle up on the couch.

The tape skips, then shows two happy girls, one with a guitar and one with a hairbrush. The one with the guitar has long light brown hair tied in a bun, gray eyes, and is wearing a sea green sweater with converse and ripped skinny jeans. Me. I look so... normal. I wasnt really gorgeous, but i was pretty. I only had some boys after me because i hung out with Leslie.

She was the gorgeous one. Long brown hair ,straight and reaching all the way to her bum. Deep greenish/blue eyes lined with long dark eyelashes. She didnt wear makeup alot, because she didnt need to. She had tan skin always smooth and coated with her favorite cheap perfume called 'Kat' that we only found at the local beauty parlor. In this video, she's wearing almost the same thing as me, exept her sweater was thicker, hanging off her shoulder,and white. Her bangs were held in the back of her head with a small white bow, leaving all the rest of her hair down.

We always wore those converse. They were our 'Sister Shoes'. We knew to get them in black so they wouldnt look dirty all the time. We never bought shoes singularly. It was sort of our 'thing'.

I press 'play' on the remote, and the dolls come to life. We both smile and Leslie speaks. "Hellooo. Im Les and this is Hannah." she puts a hand on the side of her mouth,"But im the better one, so pay attention to me." I punch her in the shoulder and we both giggle. "This isss," she starts. In unison, we both say "Teenage Dirtbag."

I start to play the song on my guitar, while Leslie raises the brush dramatically to her face as a microphone. I was already laughing pretty hard at her expression. As soon as she starts singing, tears punch the back of my eyes and my heart throbs. I miss that voice. Thick and raspy, yet light and cute. "And he dont give a damn about me." she sings, leading us both into the chorus. We start together, giggling and bumping eachother. "Im just a teenage dirtbag, baby." Our voices intwined is pure perfection. Ive always hated hearing my own voice on tape, but with Les i sounded good. We always said we would grow up to be famous, and I am sure we could have been. We sure had the talent.

At the end of the song we did our 'Secret Handshake' , a mass of claps and slides of the hand at full speed, and we hug eachother. Not like a little one, a real one. Arms squeezing out eachothers breath, cheeks smooshed together.

With that, I got up to turn of the camera. The last words you hear are Leslie saying "We are amazing."

Then the screen flashes black.

My eyes adjust to the dim room around me. I touch my face, wet from tears. I had been crying silently the whole time. I feel like a just woke up from a long dream.I suppose its time to join back into reality though right now all i want to do is go back in time. Before i had scars and bruises. Before I ever met Mason.

Before my sunshine left.

I grab the remote and switch off the T.V. , curling up in my blanket. I lay there, trembling and sobbing. I miss her. I miss my sister. I want her back home. I want to not be hurt all the time. I guess god doesnt work that way.

I sigh, her voice still righing in my mind. I want to sing with her one last time. I close my eyes and weakly sing through my sobs. "Im just a teenage dirtbag, baby."

And thays how the night goes. Me, alone, singing/sobbing, remembering.

"And why should he give a damn about me?"