Never Again

As we arrived back at the apartment, I felt a looming dread wash over me. Alex had walk out of the car and expected me to get out myself. Easy, if I had my crutches, or if there was a more than the pathetic glimmer of light from one of the other apartment rooms. Chad. His light was on, still, at two thirty in the morning. And to top it all of, it was raining. It set my mood perfectly.

I got out of the car slowly; the pounding in my head was dull, constant. The rain was cold, and stung the gash along my head. I let a tear roll effortless drown my bruised check. It felt so good to cry, call me emo if you must, but I could never cry when I was finally alone. Yet Alex called me a weakling if he saw me cry; which he wouldn’t because the rain hid my tears.

I loved the rain. When I was little I walked home in the rain, again it meant could cry. Dad was never one for showing any other emotion except anger. Yes, he hit me, but it was only to discipline me. I used to through stupid tantrums, hitting me was the only way to shut me up. Now I know not to make a fuss; if only Chad would understand that.

I hopped awkwardly to the porch were Alex stood, his tall frame intimidating. He walked away from me fast, not wanting to be scene with me; a ‘fucked up whore’. His words, not mine, but I agree with them.

The left me at the bottom of the stairs. I tried to walk up them but it hurt so much after two steps. I heard a door open, not ours because I never heard a key turn, I have very good hearing- quite surprising as I was clipped around the ear so much by Dad.

Up the stair I knew Chad was talking to Alex. I tried to get haul myself up the two floors, so I could defend my cunt of a boyfriend from the man I loved.

Pathetic? Totally…

Father's a name you haven't earned yet
you’re just a child with a temper
haven’t you heard "Don't hit a lady"?
Kickin' your ass would be a pleasure