If Only Bruises Could Heal.

Chapter 5

I woke up cold. The hardwood floor pressed against my body, making me feel rigid and lifeless. I tasted the bitter metal tang of blood in my mouth, and all over the place my skin felt cold and clammy. I felt pain in my stomach and my chest, places that I don't remember being hurt before. Did Alan do more to me after I had gotten knocked out? It seemed like so, but I still hoped not. Though it would make no difference now, I wasn't even conscious to have felt it happening, so it's not like it mattered. I couldn't change anything now.

He's never knocked me out before. Sure, I've been close to it. He would always help me up after he'd calmed down some, just to make sure I was okay. Maybe it was just actions influenced by his guilty conscience, but those little things would still remind me that he cared. I guess I just had this false expectation now. But waking up on this cold hard floor, I just felt more abandoned than ever. Despite my stinging eyes, new tears spilt over, and it took everything I had not to just break down and sob right then and there.

I couldn't lay here forever, I had to get up eventually. Even though my bones felt locked in place, I struggled against the constant ache, and stood up. I used the wall as some sort of suppport as I walked down the hallway. Something had happened to my ankle, and pain shot up my leg any time I even tried to put pressure on it. I must've looked so helpless and weak. But I knew I deserved it, I deserved every bit of it. I shouldn't have gone behind his back, I should have just stayed home, or at least should have told him where I wanted to go. I desereved all of this.

Alan wasn't anywhere to be seen in the bedroom. So after I grabbed a bottle of Tylenol-Condein that I always kept around for incidents this extreme, and an ace bandage for my ankle, I slowly and painfully made my way downstairs.

It was dead silent throughout the entire house, so it scared me a bit when I walked into the kitchen to find Alan sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in his hands. He looked exhausted, like he had been up all night. His eyes were fixed on nothingness in front of him, he didn't even aknowledge me as I walked into the room and just stared at him. I had no clue what to do. There were no signs of anger, but he seemed very on edge this morning. I felt weird just standing there, so I went over to him and took the empty seat beside him.

I looked over at him, hoping he would look over at me. Honestly anything would be better than to see that vacant lifeless look in his eyes. But he just continued to stare ahead. I looked down at my hands, playing with my fingers as they lay on the table in front of me. Should I say something? I wanted to, but I was too scared to open my mouth. I couldn't tell what he was thinking right now, I didn't want to tip him over the edge. So I stayed silent.

I'm not sure how long we sat there, it sure felt like forever. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him straighten up a bit, taking a deep breath. I kept my head forward, not knowing what to expect. "I gonna go out for a bit." Was all he said to me. I don't know what I had expected him to say when he finally spoke to me, but it sure wasn't that. I didn't want him to leave, but I was in no position to argue with him on this one. So without another word from either of us, he stood up from his seat, grabbed his keys, and left.

The house felt even more empty than before. Knowing I was all by myself, I couldn't hold back anymore. I errupted in a fit of cries. Tears raced down my face as I gasped for breath in between sobs. I buried my face in my hands, even though I had no one to hide from. 

I remember when Alan and I had met, when I was appointed the logistics coordinator for their band. I was constantly on the move with them, so it was easy to get closer to him, along with the rest of the guys. Alan's fun, carefree personality is what really got me to fall hard, and in the beginning everything was great. I was so happy, we were so happy. I don't remember exactly what pushed him off the edge, but he started hitting me, and it got worse over time. It didn't change his feelings for me, and it didn't affect how I felt towards him either. But I still question what made us come to this point.