Broken

Chapter 3

Stiles POV

The next morning, I wake up a bit later than usual. I get out of bed and start getting changed, my body still sore and a little bit stiff. I yawn quietly as I walk out of my room and down the stairs into the kitchen. "Dad?" I ask loudly into the house, wondering if he's home. I then see a note on the fridge. I go over to it and read it.

"I've gone to work earlier this morning. Don't say anything to anyone about last night, I really can't afford to lose my job. I'm the one paying our bills and putting food on the table for the both of us. I'm sorry that I lost my temper. I promise I will get better. I'll see you tonight. I love you -Dad."

"I really wish that I could believe that you would get better, Dad..." I sigh sadly as I turn away from the note. He apologizes to me every time he has one of his drunken outbursts. He usually does it through a note. I guess he feels too guilty to apologize in person. I start making myself some breakfast while my mind wanders to last night. I flinch at the memories of dad kicking me and punching me. I haven't checked the mirror yet, but I'm 99% sure there will be bruises. It'll be easy to tell everyone a lie on how I got the inevitable bruises. I've gotten pretty good at lying lately. I just wish that my dad would stop drinking. I always feel so alone, with no one to turn to...

I sniffle and quickly wipe my watery eyes as I continue to make myself one breakfast. I know that I probably should eat something today. Otherwise, the werewolves and the werecoyote might smell that there is something up with me, considering I haven't eaten for the past two days already. I was already getting concerned looks from Scott yesterday when I refused to eat lunch. Malia had looked at me like I was crazy. Thankfully, I managed to tell my friends that I really wasn't hungry. Scott was the last one to believe it, but he eventually gave in too.

Once I've had a small breakfast of buttered toast, I rush back up the stairs to brush my teeth and make sure that I have everything that I need for school. Once I'm done, I decide to walk into the bathroom and have a good look at myself in the mirror. I sigh sadly when I see a moderately large purple and black bruise forming just under my eye, going all the way down to the bottom half of my cheek. I then lift my shirt up to see multiple bruises littering my body, some of them fresh from last night, while others are starting to yellow as they start to age. Kicking me is my dad's most common type of punishment, so it's no surprise I have the most bruises there or that I have busted a lot of ribs in the past. That is why I don't take my shirt off in front of people. The multiple broken ribs over time definitely wouldn't help my stamina on the lacrosse field, so maybe that's why I am extra terrible at running. I glare at my body with disgust, hating everything about it. I pull down my shirt again and step closer to the mirror.

"Disgusting. You deserve it. You're so ugly." I whisper to myself, shaking my head a little. The scars on my arms are another story. I hate them too. They just make me look even more ugly. Not to mention the fact that they make me look weak, since I was giving into self harm. At the time, it was the only thing that could take my emotional pain away. However, I guess I didn't think about the permanence of it. The scars will stay there forever, hence why I always wear long shirts. I can't let people see them. My dad would go crazy. The scars also remind me of how much pain and suffering I was going through, reminding me how alone I was. I was so alone that I turned to a blade for comfort. A tear rolls down my cheek as I continue to think about that time in my life, which really wasn't too long ago. I'm afraid that I'll fall back into that place, even though I don't want to.

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of all these thoughts. I stare into my reflection's eyes determinedly. "Okay, Stiles. Just get though school today. You can do this." I tell myself, trying to sound confident. With that, I turn around and walk out of the bathroom. I gather everything I need for school, turn all the lights off and head out of the house. I lock the front door behind me. I walk towards my jeep and quickly jump in, placing my bag on the passenger seat. I stare at the staring wheel for a few moments, the events of yesterday still playing on my mind. Dad's voice rings in my ears.