Fighting For Life (published)

Get out

"You have twenty-three seconds!!!" He screamed banging on the door.

I made sure that I grabbed everything I needed, knowing I'd probably never return to my house. I made sure to grab my school bag, a hoodie, and my winter coat as I jumped out the window. I soon heard a loud bang, indicating he shot something, but I was already on the other side of the street running away from the home I grew up in. I was being forced to run away from the only life I had ever known.

I was still running until I got to the train tracks and decided that was finally far enough. I was hyperventilating and every time I breathed my side felt like pure, hot fire. My vision was starting to cloud, and I needed a place to sit and calm down. I was in so much pain I wanted to die, Dimitri should have just shot me. It would have been better for everyone.

After a brief pause while catching my breath, I began walking to the center of town where all the stores and restaurants were. It was only a mile or so up the road. I tried to think of anything but the agonizing pain shooting throughout my whole body. It proved to be a very difficult thing to do though.

I soon made it outside a diner that didn't look too busy.

"AHHH! mommy! Is that a zombie?!? It isn't even Halloween anymore!" A little kid that was walking out of the diner shouted. That was the first time that night that I had even considered my appearance. I didn't think about all the damage I would have acquired from Daniel's rampage.

I glanced in a window and quickly put on my hoodie. I zipped up the black fabric to cover up my blood-stained white shirt and quickly decided not to go into any of the stores. I needed to wash up and cover the ugly bruises with makeup.

I remembered a truck stop on old highway seventy-six, it was a place my sister used to take me to shower when my dad didn't pay the gas bill for the hot water. I didn't remember how much it cost, but I was certainly in need of a shower. I hoped that I had at least a few dollars stashed in my wallet.

I trekked my way up the mile and a half walk to the store and I quickly went in. There was hardly anyone there but, I kept my hood up and my head down. I made my way to the cashier, it was a man, maybe college age.

"How much for a shower?" I asked hesitantly. A little bit afraid of the cost.

"seven fifty..." he stated in a bored tone without even glancing at me.

I breathed a sigh and grabbed my wallet from the bag. I sat the bag down and opened my wallet. I had four one-dollar bills crumpled up, which gave me a little hope. Maybe I had enough change to cover the rest! I looked up at the man and he gasped when he processed all my damage. I started to fish out change.

"One, two, seventy-five, eighty-five, ninety, ninety- one, ninety-two, ninety- three." I counted out loud hoarsely. I suddenly realized I had no more change, so I put everything together. "Okay... Four, five, six, six dollars and ninety-three cents. Shit..." I felt like crying suddenly.

"Mam, it's okay I'll cover the rest." He stated while staring at my face still. "Here," he said and handed me a key, towel, and a bar of soap. The key had wheel chair on it, and I looked back toward the doors.

"Thank you!" I said so gratefully. I had never been so happy to take a shower in my whole life, but I could feel the dried blood smeared on my face.

I walked to the door with the wheelchair on it and unlocked it quickly. I slid inside and locked it back. It was a big bathroom with a shower in the corner. I was also very grateful that he gave me the handicapped bathroom. I looked in the mirror and suddenly realized why I had been given this bathroom, it was because I really did look handicapped.

My right eye was swollen and bruised, my left cheek and jaw was purple and black, my right cheek had a big gash with dried blood on it, my nose was crooked and swollen with dried blood under it, my upper and lower lips were busted on different sides, my neck had strangle marks on it and that wasn't even taking off any of my clothes. I was in so much pain and I looked horrible.

I slowly stripped my bloody clothes off. My body looked like it should be black, blue, and purple rather than white. My sides had deep dark purple bruises on each side. I knew I had ribs broken by the way it hurt to just simply breathe. The place he cut me underneath my collarbone more than likely needed stitches, but considering the situation I'd ignore it. My stomach looked like one big bruise and my legs had various bruises in varying colors on them all the way down. I looked just as bad as I felt.

I turned the nob and waited for the water to heat up. I stepped in and let the warm water consume me. It was like heaven. It relaxed me as much as I could relax in the situation that I was in.

I noticed as I rinsed my hair blood was coming out, no wonder my head hurt so bad. It took forever to get all the blood off my body, but eventually most of it came off and I stopped the shower.

I dried off and wrapped myself in the scratchy towel. I made my way to the duffle bag and started pulling out clothes. I put on a sports bra and underwear, and then I ended up in my jeans and a black t shirt with my hoodie. The sports bra hurt like hell, but it felt more held together and compressed against my straining chest and ribs, almost like I had a wrap around my chest or something.

My cut was still bleeding so tore a piece of the blood-stained shirt off and stuck it on the cut like band aid. It didn't stick too well but it was good enough, I couldn't be too picky. I wouldn't be surprised if any of my cuts and wounds ended up infected by my poor treatments. I didn't have the means to worry about that though.

I quickly organized my duffle bag and pulled out the makeup bag. I never wore makeup unless I was covering something up; I never learned how to wear makeup for fun. I hadn't needed to cover anything up for over two years; since I had gotten involved with the Demetri. I hoped that I remembered how to do it. I had a lot to cover up that time.

I pulled out the makeup, it was handed down to me from both my sister and mother, we all had pretty much the same skin tone. I knew that this would make the cuts even worse, but I had no other options. Walking around in my state would just bring unwanted attention to myself. It burned like hell as I smeared the makeup across the cuts. I quickly used concealer and foundation to subtly cover up the bruises and other products to draw attention away from the off color and texture of my skin. Thank god that they both used high end brands with good coverage. It didn't cover them up completely, and it made me look off-colored. If you truly looked at me, you would be able to tell that I had the snot beat out of me... but it was close enough. Besides, I hardly ever got looked at anyways.

I packed up all my stuff and headed back toward the clerk. "Thank you so much!" I said very sincerely as I handed him the key back.

He looked up and gasped again, "wh-what happened to your bruises?"

"The power of makeup is amazing, huh? You can barely tell that I almost died, right?" I asked with a small smirk, but it quickly faltered because it hurt my face to do that.

He stared at me for a few more seconds, I could tell that he was realizing that behind the mask of makeup, I still looked messed up. He gave me a sympathetic look, and I could tell that I needed to leave. If I stayed there any longer, he'd start asking questions that I couldn't answer for him.

I thanked him again and then exited the store. I began walking to the north side of town, knowing exactly where I was going.