We Watched the City Burn

Chapter 9

Do you know how it feels when you're finally thrust into the sunlight, after spending your entire life in the dark? How it feels to taste the clean, clear air when you've breathed through a vent all of your days? The sounds of life, buzzing all around you, almost too much to handle. The smells and the sights and the colors that surround you. 

You start to wonder, am I still on Earth? What is this beautiful place I am in? Where, when am I? But, in an instant none of that matters, because everything has changed. Your life, as you knew it, is over. You've become a new person. Like a caterpillar from a cocoon.  You've been given wings, now you must learn to use them. 

I wasn't sure if it was real when it happened. Or if I was dreaming again, or maybe even dead. That was possible. But, I didn't care so much if I wsa living or not, not in that moment. Everything stopped, the world did not turn and the clock did not tick. No voice was heard, not even my hearrt. Up until then, I wouldn'y have thought it possible for one's heart to actually stop. But it did. Mine did.

It was the most amazing moment in my entire life. Nothing could compare to it, nothing comes close and I swear to god I feel like a new person. Stronger, in a way that I can't explain. She's breathed life into my cold stiff body. Where there was dark there now is light.

All it took was a moment for everything to change, for me to finally believe that there may be something on this planet worth sticking around for. I wasn't going through the motions anymore. There was a reason for me to fight back and try to get control of my life. If I had control over my life, if I was safe and sound, then I could have her.

See, it happened this way - When my bruises finally faded enough for me to go to school again and I was sitting in first hour, getting ready to nap right through, she turned to me. Turned right around in her chair, looked me straight in the eyes. Oh god, was she ever beautiful. She was perfect. Red hair, freckles and made her look like a human collection of stars. Her lips were full and rosy like her cheeks, perfect and plump. She wore little make up, and her brown eyes were big and bright.

She studied me, for the shortest of moments, before she turned up her lips, blinding me. The smile. I was the most...there are no words for it. My stomach fell to my toes, my brain melted to fluff and Ferdinand stopped cold.

As much as I hate to admit, all I could do was stare. By the time my heart started to beat again, she was facing forward in her seat again. Her hair tucked behind one ear, writing in her notebook. I don't know what happened the rest of the hour, or the rest of that day. Next thing I knew, I was home, keys in hand and door open wide. I could still feel my heart buzzing and my cheeks burning.

She smiled at me. She smiled at me. There is hope.

Before I had time to turn on my heels, a fit leveled me, knocking me to the floor. Blood, bitter and red flooded my mouth. My face screamed, my vision blurred. I scrambled to my feet, ready to bolt out the door. My father glared at me, bottle clenched in one fist. Spittle hung from his open mouth and his eyes were wild and hazy. He stood straight and stomped past me into the kitchen, pulled out a loaf of bread and fillings for a sandwhich.

I could feel the blood dripping down my chin, if I stained the floor he'd beat me black and blue. I jogged the the bathroom, and pressed a cold washcloth to the cut on my lip. It wasn't bad, seeing as he wasn't wearing any of his huge, fancy ass rings. I look at myself in the mirror and for the first time in a long time, I see something different in my eyes.

There's a light shining there in the dark murky water. My cheeks even look a bit brighter, not so sickly pale. When the bleeding stops, I go to my room and sit at my desk, taking out my books and arranging them in piles. For the first time this academic year I do my homework that night.  My teachers should be pleased.

 The sun dips behind the trees, painting the sky pink and gold. She loved sunsets, I can remember her always commenting on them. She loved to buy paintings and prints of them, decorating each room of the house with them. She told me that sunsets were never a said thing, but rather a sign of a new begining. And, she told me, that whenever anything in my life came to an end to look forward for the new things to come. 

I wondered often if my father would ever remarry. After he had moved on, of course. It first, that thought made me sick. I didn't think anyone could ever replace my mother, or be good enough for my father.

But now, it makes me sick for another reason entierly, I fear for the woman that he would marry. I know without a doubt that if there were another person in the house that his anger would shift to them, someone he had a stronger grip on and could hold prisoner forever.