Chim - Mirrors

CHAPTER 8

Chapter Eight

It's strange.

Waking up to complete silence. No screaming. No TV blasted so loud, my ears hurt.

Just complete, blissful silence.

I blink, looking around. It's not my room. Not my home. I move, but the second I do, my body burns with pain. I grip the pillow tightly, whimpering into it.

"Kimberley?" I gasp in shock and turn, seething in pain. Cheryl's standing at the doorway, a tray in her hands.

"Are you okay?" She asks, rushing forward and setting the tray on the ground.

"I'm fine, it's just...my ribs." I breathe. I sit up slowly, fist burying into the mattress and my knuckles grind in pain. I look at them. Bruised and raw. I touch my neck gingerly, and flinch at the pain. Cheryl bites her lip, tears in her eyes.

"Don't cry." I whisper, reaching out and taking her hand. I don't want to see her upset over something she has no control over. I'm just happy I'm out of there, no matter how brief my escape is. I look beside me and see that the quilt is still neat on the other side.

"Where did you sleep?" I whisper. She smiles softly.

"On the couch. It's fine." She adds when I open my mouth to protest. I shake my head.

"No it's not. This is your home-"

"It's your home too now. You're not going back there." I sigh, touching my neck again and her fingers tighten in mine.

"How could he do this to you?" She says hoarsely, tears falling down her cheeks. I shake my head.

"I don't know." I answer honestly. She grips the quilts tightly, and I look down at the tray on the ground, trying to distract her.

"Breakfast for two I hope?" I say, smiling lightly. She looks at me, then smiles sadly and reaches down, picking it up.

"Yeah. I made you pancakes. The one with the strawberries on it is mine, obviously, cause you're-"

"Allergic to strawberries. You remembered." I say, trying my best to smile wider. I'm surprised by how much she seems to remember about me. She smiles and nods.

"Course I remember. I figured you wouldn't want to go to school today, either. I think it's best, too, you need time...to heal..." She trails off, staring at the bruises on my neck. I touch them self consciously, and clear my throat guiltily.

"Uh, about that...I kind of got suspended for fighting yesterday." She raises an eyebrow.

"Why?" She asks. I sigh.

"My friend was getting picked on so I defended her." She chuckles and shrugs.

"I'm not your parent, so good on you. I'd do the same." I laugh lightly and she frowns.

"Don't they need to sign some kind of paper thing though?" I bite my lip and nod, sighing.

"We'll find a way around it." She says, waving her hand. I shrug.

"I'll just copy Cindy's signature, it's kind of sloppy anyway." She looks at me in confusion and I realize she has no idea what their names are.

"Cindy...my foster mother." I mumble. 

"Oh..." I nod once, trying not to cry. I wish it had been different for her. I wish she had the courage to pick herself up and leave him. But then I remember that look in her eyes. That look of relief that I was the one getting beaten and not her.

I blink back the tears. She's not worth them. She doesn't deserve them.

I wince, grabbing my ribs in pain and Cheryl looks at me in concern.