Broken Love

~1 year ago~
It was a dark Friday night, the last day of school before christmas but 16 year old Kira wasn’t out celebrating like most of her friends. Instead she lay in a dark room, weeping quietly into her pillow. No one would hear her cry over the shouts of her parents in the next room. She winced as another wave of pain washed over her and she moved her arm a little to ease the stinging. Her father took great pleasure in dragging her left arm over the grater when he started shouting. He didn’t have a job and always had more alcohol than was healthy which put him in a bad mood. Tonight was no different. Kira gathered from the yells that her father had tried to change the channel on the television during a documentary her mother wanted to watch. Television! Honestly, was there anything left they wouldn’t fight over? Kira doubted it. If they hated each other so much, why didn’t they just get a divorce? The phone rang, shrilling over the shouts coming from the kitchen but no one else seemed to hear it. Kira sighed and carefully pulled a jumper on to cover her arm before going to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Kira? It’s Mr Dorna, are your parents home?” Uh oh. Teachers calling the house was never a good thing.
“Uh..sure, one minute” she answered quickly. She tiptoed into the kitchen and silently held the phone out to her father who snatched it off her.
“Hello!” he barked as Kira quickly made her escape. She knew the conversation wouldn’t last long and she was dreading the aftermath. Her father was already in a bad mood and this certainly wouldn’t help things.
“Kira!” came her father’s deafening roar “Kira get in here this instant!” Taking a deep breath, Kira stepped quietly back into the kitchen.
“Yes, dad?” she tried to sound innocent, knowing it was pointless but trying anyway.
“That was Mr Dorna, you’re failing maths” it was a statement, not a question but Kira knew that a response was expected.
“Yes.” Best to keep it short and simple.
“Why?” her father’s question was nothing more than a growl.
“I…I’ve always struggled with maths dad, you know that” she said, trying once more to sound innocent.
“Don’t treat me like an idiot, Kira, I’m not the stupid one in this house!” he spat at her
“I’m not stupid dad, I just don’t find maths easy” she tried
“You are stupid you little bitch and you damn well know it! If I don’t see an improvement in the next month you are getting kicked out of this house and you’re not coming back!” He shouted
“Well it’s not my fault you two are up shouting at each other until the early hours of the morning and stopping me from getting any sleep. It’s no wonder I’m failing, you’re not exactly helping me!” she shouted back as she lost her temper.
“Get over here” her father strode over to her and pulled her by her hair to where her mother stood. “We’re not happy about this, it better improve, Kira, I’m not kidding”
“Yeah it’s pretty obvious you’re not happy, maybe if you learned not to shout at everyone you meet you’d be able to get a job and bring some money in!” it was a low shot and Kira knew it but she hated having to put up with him shouting at her all the time. Still holding her hair, Kira’s father shook her violently
“Don’t you get cheeky with me. I won’t tolerate you talking back to me like that. You’re a dirty little whore and you’re not worth the dirt on my shoe!” he threw her to the ground, kicked her once for good measure and strode out. Kira’s mum shook her head and followed him out leaving her alone, curled up on the kitchen floor with tears running down her face. Kira struggled to catch her breath as she stood up and staggered to the bathroom. She gasped with pain as she reached up into the bathroom cupoboard to where the first aid kit was. Biology was Kira’s favourite subject and it was helpful to know how to deal with the different injuries that were inflicted upon her almost every night. She pulled out some binding tape and gingerly felt the area of her stomach that was already starting to swell up. She was pretty sure that her father had broken at least one of her ribs.
Kira trudged back into her room and closed the door behind her. She heard heavy footsteps coming towards her room and shrunk back from the door in fear that her father would hit her again. He didn’t. There was a click as he turned the lock on the outside of her door and more thumps on the landing as he walked away again. The lock on Kira’s door had been fitted when she was 8 years old and her father had started hitting her. She had started having nightmares and sleepwalking so one night in a fit of rage he hit her so hard that she had fallen back against the side of her bed and was knocked unconscious. While she lay there, he fitted a lock to her door and he locked her in almost every night after that. The phone was kept outside her room and the only access she had to the outside world was the old laptop her aunt had given her behind her father’s back when she got a new one. Kira’s elderly neighbour rarely used his wireless internet connection because he just couldn’t grasp how it worked but it was always turned on for Kira to use if she wanted to. Kira sank onto her bed and pulled off her jumper to stop it from irritating her throbbing arm. She saw a couple of drops of excess blood on her arm and smiled a little. Not even bothering to register the outrage at the back of her mind that such a thought had entered her head, Kira realised she wanted to see more blood. She wanted to hurt really badly, much worse than what her father had done. She reached up to get her diary from the shelf above her, writing in it always stopped her from doing irrational things like shouting and screaming at her dad to let her out or trying to hit him back. She knew that hurting herself even more was just asking for trouble if he were to find out. As her hand searched the shelf, something sharp brushed against her arm making her gasp with pain as she sharply withdrew her arm. She stood up with a frown and her eyes scanned the shelf for the source of the fresh drops of blood running down her arm from her previous wounds. There was a long bit of broken plastic with a sharp point lying next to her diary.This time the desire was stronger and Kira knew that there was no point in fighting it. She picked up the plastic and slowly sat down again. Staring at her hand as it dragged the plastic along her left arm. Starting off slowly and then getting faster and faster until eventually she was violently slashing her arm and the blood was dripping down on to her pillow creating a large scarlet stain that spread wider and wider the more she cut herself.
Eventually exhausted and feeling happier, Kira replaced the plastic on the shelf and went back to sleep.