Care For Me Not, I'll Hurt You Too Much

The next day at school came as sort of a relief to you—mainly because, Gerard still hadn’t shown up to school. You were curious though, he had been gone for four days and that wasn’t the norm for people who skipped school on your behalf. Normally they forgot about it and moved on after a day or two. But this was just abnormal. Instead of waiting for him to walk in, you knew that he wouldn’t, so you just sat and wondered. Worried? No. Why would you worry about someone you just met? This was wondering out of pure curiosity.

The swelling on your left eye had gone down, which gave you a chance to pull off a somewhat normal appearance. Well, normal for you. The imprints made by his fists were still visible however. The red surrounding your eye had vanished some time over night and, from what you could see in the mirror that morning, were replaced by small blotches of blues and purples. Your eye was still bruised though. The bruise surrounding it was a horrid array of purples, grays, blues, yellows, and greens. You didn’t like your appearance at all that morning, but during you trek to school you began to realize how little people would notice.

You had remained invisible to the popular world for so long, why would they start to notice you now? You came to school with bruises, cuts, and even casts before and not a glance was spared or a word was uttered on anyone’s part. Your only worry was Gerard. Considering he was new, he might make a big deal out of this little blotch of broken blood vessels surrounding your eye. You hoped, though, that he would get the picture right away that this was a normal thing for you and no one really cared what you looked like. Hell, they hardly cared if you showed up for class. If you went missing and finally walked through the door after six months, a glance would barely be spared. You are just another census number to the world. Another social security number to show that the United States is catching up in the quickly rising population numbers is all you ever were.

You were lucky today though. You remained invisible to everyone still. Even Ms. Michaels barely noticed you. She only looked up at you to see if you were there during roll call in homeroom and Art. Her head stayed down and her eyes stayed glued to the papers scattered across her desk. Also, thankfully, her mouth stayed shut.

The lunch lady was also one to ignore you like the rest of them. At lunch she simply smiled and handed you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich before turning to whichever jock was standing behind you. You hadn’t said one word all day, no one looked at you, and you were at peace.

Well peace except for the sting that accompanied every turn of your neck or clench of your stomach muscles. Every time you moved your arms, your ribs cried out in protest. The day would have been slightly enjoyable for you if it weren’t for the massive soreness of your muscles and the bruises scattered across your skin. Every time you sat down or stood up, you put yourself through so much pain that you’d wince and have a strong urge to find the nearest janitor’s closet and curl up among the thousands of rags littering the floor next to the mop buckets and pine sol bottles. You’d think that because it was a janitor’s closet it would be a little cleaner.

Even walking became a challenge. Your stomach was sore to hell and your back felt as if your spine was nearly shattered. You couldn’t walk hunched over—favoring your stomach—because then your lower back would get extremely sore and tighten up. You also couldn’t walk straight up—favoring you spine—because that would also add the strain of your arms to the pain of your abdomen. Also your legs had gained a kink in them right along your thigh during the middle of the day. You feared walking with a limp though, to favor it, because that might draw unwanted attention.

You cursed yourself and inanimate objects all day in hopes of ridding yourself of the pain.

The bell finally rang after an extremely long and painful day. The bright side was that no one saw—much less cared—and that Gerard was no where to be found.

This thought sent you into your wonderings again. Whathave you done to make him leave like that? You naturally blamed yourself for this, having had several confirmations from your peers before you once again became a part of the back ground.

This again sent you into deeper questions and you found yourself sitting on the swings in the park until nightfall thinking. You considered yourself insane, wondering about a boy you hardly met. Then again nothing ever really happened in your life, and this one new creature gave you something to do other than stare blankly at the grass and gravel for hours. You had to admit, actually having something to do for now was much better than staring at the graffiti covered walls in an alleyway while trying to decipher the tagging. You would have reacted the same way if a spider had crawled across your arm while you were sitting in class.

So there you were again, sitting on the swings with your arms limp at your sides. The rain had gone away several days ago, so now the light cloud cover offered you an excellent view of the moon shedding her rippled like waves across the ground. You were lucky to even see this small glimmer of life. The smog surrounding your city made it nearly impossible to see any type of constellation or star overhead. You could lie in an open field for hours on end, staring up into the sky and see only one or two stars peek through the thick pollution.

The ramblings of your mind circled around in your head until it finally came to your attention that if you didn’t hurry, you might make it home when your father would be coming back. You stand with difficulty and haul yourself across the large lawn. The only thing to be heard beneath your feet while you walk is the simple crunch, crunch, crunch of your feet on the dirt ridden sidewalk beneath your sneakers. Stores pass you by and cars come and go, but all you hear are you thoughts and the crunch, crunch, crunch. The larger buildings fade away behind you, and soon you’re walking along a line of small gas stations and convenience stores.

You look up at the night sky again and see the pollution in a hazy orange hovering over your head. This takes away all the appeal of the moon so you bring your gaze back down to watch the small stones pass beneath your feet. You pull on your lip ring. Why did things turn out the way they did?

That’s just how life is supposed to be sweetheart. The pessimistic voice answers.

But why? He was supposed to love, not hate. Why did he become that way?

It’s life….

Crunch, crunch, crunch. The time finally occurs to you as you rewind and begin to wonder how long it actually was that you had been sitting on the swings. You estimate only a couple of hours because the sun hadn’t gone down too long ago. You were in the darkness of the night, but you still had the street lights to guide your way home.

That would take too long. You needed to get home before he did, just to spare yourself of more pain.

You look up and spot several alleyways cutting through to the next street. If you could just cut through one of them, then maybe it would save you some time…and punishment.

That’s good sweetheart, just get home. She answers.

You take a deep breath and turn the corner beside a small convenience store just to cut through the alley. You see people inside the store so you bring your head down quickly. Right now you just felt like they were all communicating with your father on your whereabouts. You pull your hood up as you walk down the sidewalk in front of the store, shielding yourself from view of anyone inside or out.

You stare down at your feet as you round the corner, sighing as the bright lights finally stop behind the cover of the brick wall. You go back to the same old rhythm.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. You wonder where Gerard went.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. You wonder how long you’ll be able to go without anyone at all noticing your wounds.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. You wonder if- Clank.

The sound of something metallic hitting the brick walls surrounding you brings you out of your head. You stop in your tracks, not looking up, but listening to see if you had imagined something. Or if whatever it was that had made the noise had went away. Only what you did hear set you on edge.

Breathing. Heavy Breathing.

There was someone else in the alleyway with you. You look up, the alleyway in front of you seems empty, but you can’t be sure. The streetlights are placed in just the right spot so that the mouth of the alley in front of you is flooded with darkness. The angle provides no visuals as to if anyone is in the shadows.

You’re arms are folded across your chest to block out the slight chill. You turn your head as far as your neck is willing to go to the side to see if anyone is there. Still, you can’t tell. Your hood is obstructing your view, but another sound reaches your ears.

Crunch. the sound of a boot coming down onto the gravel in the alleyway sets your heart racing. That was obviously not yours. You were still rooted to the same spot you had been before.

You reach up and pull your hood down, uncovering your face and unblocking your peripheral vision. You look around to the sides. A dumpster sits ten feet away, reeking of old diapers and spoiled food. You step back two steps, waiting to hear something else.

Crunch. You become like a rat in the eyes of a mouse. You don’t make a sound at all, just to see if you were imagining things.

“Hey there.” A rugged, slurred voice says from behind you.