Broken Bones And Broken Hearts

Chapter one

It was mid-December. The snow was falling, and the sidewalks were coloured while. I clutched my arm, and held my hand to my face. It was throbbing erratically. I grabbed a hand full of snow from the ground, and pressed it against my face. It instantly it felt much better than it did before. I took a deep breath as I continued my walk down the street.

Tears stung in my eyes, as I thought about what just happened to me. I knew he broke my left arm again. It hurt to move it even in the slightest bit. I reached down, and grabbed a handful of snow again. My face hurt and so did my hair. After he grabbed me by my hair, he slapped me; causing me to land harshly on the floor. I shook my head to get rid of the image, but instantly regretted it as the throbbing worsened.

I groaned.

Finally, I reached the ally way that held a short cut to my house. I reached the end of the ally way, and crossed the street to my house. I made my way to the back door, and reached for the key buried in the plant pot.

It hurt crouching down. I dug my hand around until my hand felt something cool. Wincing as i stood up, i slipped the key in the key hole and pushed the door open.

Looking around, I knew my parents weren't home yet. The kitchen table was left the way I left it this morning and the house was still lit by the day. I walked as quickly as I could to the kitchen sink and turned on the water. Leaning on the counter, I washed my hands. Then my face.

I limped over to the mirror that hung on our fridge and looked at my self. Only, I didn't see me. I saw a girl who had been roughed up with a bruise on her eye and red cheeks.

I inhaled and exhaled.

I walked away from the mirror and unbuttoned my pants. They were soaked from the snow all the way to the knees. I pealed them off and threw them on the ground. I looked at my thigh and found the source of the pain. There was a nasty purple bruise on my left thigh.

I looked away from it, knowing if I kept starring I would start to cry. I limped over to the fridge and opened the freezer. Grabbing the ice tray I limped back on over to the sink and grabbed a towel under the sink. I wrapped 5 ice cubes in the towel and refilled the ice tray, then put the tray back. I sighed as I applied the ice to my thigh, then my face, then my eye. Repeat.

When I felt a little better, I grabbed my jeans from the floor and started to make my way to the stairs. This was the third time this month that we had; what he would call "sessions". I climbed the first step slowly, then the next. But only this time, his "session" was much worst. He never threw me to the floor before. Well, there was always a first for everything.

Reaching the top on the stairs, I threw my jeans in the hamper beside the washroom and made my way to my room at the end of the hall. I opened the door, and slowly lay down. I looked up at my ceiling at that was covered with birds and just stared at it.

I knew I should tell someone about this. About the fact that I get beaten every other week for not really doing anything. But I couldn't. Half of the reason why I couldn't tell was because I was scared he would find out, and do more damage to me; and half was because I loved him. I didn't want him to leave me.

My eyes started to water. I wiped them away quickly, even if there was no one around to see them.

I hated crying in front of people. I never cried when he hit me. I always grounded my teeth and took it. Sometimes he would hit me till I cried but I never did. I held my pride and looked him strait in the eye as I received my next blow. I closed my eyes as I placed the ice on my bruised eye. Yeah, it defiantly felt much better. I removed the ice from my eye and put on the my thigh with a little pressure. Then I pulled my blanket from under me and coved myself with it. I left the ice on my thigh as I drifted to sleep.

- - - - - - - - - - -

I woke up, and groaned as I felt the pain rushing back. I slowly moved my body to face the other side, and when I succeed, I looked at my alarm clock. It was 6:59am. I groaned again of annoyance.

Not only did I sleep through the whole night., I was also going to be in deep shit. I didn't finish my English essay. Or my Science. Or my History. I inhaled as I started to get up and hitting my alarm clock on the way to the bathroom as it buzzed.

My cold feet hitting the tile floor reminded my of the ice I slept with last night. I'll check on it later, I thought.

I locked the door and looked at myself again. The swelling in my eye had gone down, looking like I just applied purple eye shadow around it; and my cheeks didn't hurt anymore. My arm still hurt, and I made a mental note to go to the clinic after school to check it out. But my thigh was another story. It was still purple, but now it looked like it had a mix of green now. Gross.

I walked to the shower and turned it on. Heat on high. I stripped myself of clothes and got inside. The heat felt better on my eye, than the cold did. But I couldn't say the same about my thigh. It was throbbing just as bad as it did the other day. Cutting my shower short, I grabbed my towel and wrapped it around myself. The bathroom felt like a sauna now, with the fog surrounding me with heat. I walked to the door as fast as I could and yanked it open.

I limped my way to my room, safely hiding my thighs under my towel and closing the door behind me. I walked to my drawers and pulled out a pair of black skinny jeans, my undergarments and socks. I pulled my jeans on slowly afterwards and then walked to my closet. I put my white v-neck over my head slowly with just my right arm then slipped into my leather vest, wincing as I put my left arm through it. I put my socks on, leaning on my dresser and sat down in front of my dresser.

Applying eyeliner, I thought about how I would look like to other people. Would they know something was up? No. I thought. I've been to school before with a black eye. People would ask what happened, and I would just make up a lie. End of story. No more questions.

But as I started to apply purple eye shadow to match my eye, I thought about Alex. Alex never believed my lies. He would always look at me with that knowing expression of his and shake his head. But not once has he said anything about it. I wasn't complaining. Personally, I was grateful he didn't say anything. Saved us one long awkward conversation. And plus, it's not I would ever admit to anything. I put down my brush and examined myself in the mirror. It didn't look that bad. The left eye, the one I put make up on, was a lighter shade of purple; but still. Not bad.

I got up and grabbed my bag from the floor and looked around if I forgot anything. I grabbed my phone and walked out my room.