Bruises

Chapter 1: Run

The leaves rustled in the bushes around me. A shiver ran up my spine. Goosebumps began to appear on my arms and legs, my bruises showing clearly. Bruises. Big purple bruises. From punches and kicks that happened behind the blood-stained curtains. I began to shiver. The wind was becoming colder and stronger. I heard a stick break inside the bushes. I started to sprint. I needed to get away from here, from the place that I call home.

I needed to get somewhere with light, and warmth. I began to sprint faster and faster, a million things racing through my head, footsteps getting quicker behind me. I saw a faint glow of light against the pitch-black sky. The light seemed to flicker, it turned off. Fudge. I needed that safe, warm glow. Soon more lights began to appear. I started to slow down. I began to do a jog, until I fell, and the feet began to run closer and closer to me.

"Help!" I screamed as the footsteps slowed down. I felt myself being lifted and thrown over a shoulder. I shut my eyes thinking about what punishment may come. I was thrown into the backseat of a car. A ragged, old cloth covered my mouth. My eyelids began to feel heavy. I rested my head against the window. I fell into a long, deep sleep.

"Get up!" shouted a familiar voice. It belonged to the maid. The rude, mean, old, scrawny maid. I groaned as I tried to get up and out of bed. I lifted the sheets up and over me, revealing all my scars, bruises and whip-lines, that I had been given. I looked down at my wrists, they were red, swollen and had rope burns on them.

"What happened?" I asked the maid, not expecting an answer. "You were tied up, now get moving. You have lots of chores to do young lady." Said the maid as she began to work. Once again, I looked at my wrists, I wondered how they knew that I was gone. I mean, I snuck off on my way to the shops and never wanted to go back. Fudge. I better start those chores I have. As I looked at my list of chores I continued to wonder how they found me. I was far away. "Stop day-dreaming!" shouted Mary, my best friend inside the orphanage.

Mary had long, red curls. She always wears her sailor shirt and overalls. I snapped back out of my wondering session, and started to scrub the floor. "What happened to you?" Mary asked. "I tried to run, but they somehow found me." I explained. "Did you forget that they put trackers in us?" Mary stated Mary. "Oh, yeah." I confessed. How could I be so stupid as to forget that they had us tracked. I hit my forehead with my hand.

"MIA!" shouted Mary. "Huh? Yes, what?" I asked looking up at her. Oh Poop. The orphanage owner Mr. Snyder was standing right behind her. "Mia, I would like to speak to you." He boomed. I nodded my head and followed him into the kitchen. I saw the blood-stained curtain. I was going to be whipped. "On your fours." Demanded Mr. Snyder. He pulled the curtain fully around us and reached into his pocket. He pulled out his black, leather whip. He uses it to punish those who don't obey him.

"You will count to 20, and when your down you will stay here and scrub of the blood that you left behind." He ordered. He unravelled his whip. Crack. I screamed out in pain. "1." I forced the words of my lips. Crack. "2" I choked out. I continued to count as he whipped me. When he was finally done I looked up and saw fresh blood covering the curtain, floor and the walls. "Get up, and clean" Mr. Snyder demanded. I tried to get up but moving hurt my back so much that I clasped on the ground and laid there for a few minutes.

"MIA!" I heard Marys voice, "Are you ok? Do you want some help?" I nodded my head, Mary ran upstairs to the bathroom. She soon came back with towels, pain relief and bandages. She started wiping the warm blood off my back and bandaged it up. "You know Mia, you shouldn't have tried to run alone. We promised to go together." She started to say. "I know, I know...that we promised to run together but it was a perfect chance." I started to explain. "No buts, you promised, and you broke that promise. Either-way you were going to be punished." Uttered Mary.

Afterwards, we cleaned of the walls and floor, dusted the shelves and wiped the creaky, old, broken windows. "Where is everyone?" I asked. "They went out to and excursion after you were whipped. I stayed behind to help." She explained. "Of course." I muttered. Nobody wants to be near the girl who's always whipped. Who's always in trouble, for leaving foster homes...