Don't Hold Your Breath

It was another day in the life of myself. The same old cycle repeated day after day. I felt trapped. But trapped in more ways than just one. Not only was I trapped in this seemingly endless cycle I couldn't break, but trapped inside my own body. Whenever he beat me, I wished I could just leave my body. 

Like now, here I am curled up in the corner, awaiting the next blow of his fist, or foot, or whatever he decides to strike me with next. He could decide to break another beer bottle against my arm, or throw me into another lamp.

 I guess this time he decided to switch it up a little bit.

 I heard him pull something out of his pocket. I sat cowering in the corner, fearing the worst. My thoughts were snapped into reality when I felt his hard grasp on my arm. Then I realized that my fears had come true. 

What he held in his hand was a knife. 

I decided that it would be best to remain quiet, because speaking now would just make him even angrier. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and attempted to rip my shirt, but was unsuccessful, so he used his knife as an aid. He tore my shirt exposing my shoulder, then proceeded to dig the cold sharp blade into my shoulder and drag it across my chest. I gasped in pain, and that's when he decided it was enough, and muttered something in his slurred drunken voice about me being the reason for his pain, and his suffering, and that I'm the reason she left. 

When he was gone, (up to his room to pass out on the floor no doubt) I started to examine the damage that had been done. Not just to me but to the house as well. We had one broken lamp, broken glass scattered all over the floor. Beer bottles, no doubt, The pillows that were supposed be on the chairs and couches were scattered all over the room. There were a few holes in the walls where he had thrown his punches and I had ducked. There were a few cracks on the windows, and a few scratches on the door, things that could be easily fixed if someone were to come over. Then I decided to assess the not to easily covered damages. I pulled up my shirt exposing blue, purple, and red splotches splattered all up and down my torso. I removed the torn fabric that hung over my arm, exposing a giant purple splotch where he had gripped me with more force then I realized. I was definitely going to have to wear long sleeves tomorrow.

 I saved the worst for last. The cut wasn't deep, so it has stopped bleeding. But it still hurt like hell. This was going to take a while to heal. I don't know what Elizabeth is going to think. Sooner or later she's going to stop believing that my injuries are due to "getting in fights" or "Being Mugged" 

At this point I was still leaning up against the icy wall. I felt I should try and move up to my room. I attempted to pull myself up using the arm of the recliner to my right, but the rippling pain in my side caused me to gasp in pain and fall back against the wall. That's when the pain in my side and stomach became agonizing, causing tears to pour down my face. I wasn't moving anywhere tonight. I hugged my knees to my chest and cried myself to sleep that night, like many other nights, when in was in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the presence of my father. 

 ~*~

Morning came sooner than I'd hoped.  I was awoken by my father fumbling down the stairs gripping his forehead. He was wearing a suit and carrying his briefcase. He was off to work. Hungover. Again. 

"Hey son, what are you doing on the floor? you'll throw your back out, and what happened to your shirt?" Of course he didn't remember. Again, at least there are a few moments in time when he at least acts like he cares. I sat up, leaning against the wall, like I had been last night when he. . . I quickly shook the image from my head, and thought of an excuse. Sadly a poor one. 

"I . . . um . . .I got into a fight . . . and uh . . .  oh look at the time! You'll be late for work." I finished lamely. He began walking towards the door. 

"That's my boy. I hope you kicked some butt. Well I'm off to work, I'll see you tonight." and with that he walked out the door. "I'll see you tonight." God I hope not. If I'm lucky he'll either be passed out or not here by the time I get home. 

The pain in my shoulder, and pretty much all over the rest of my body was now more of a dull ache. as long as I didn't touch it . . . or move to suddenly . . . or breath to hard . . . But I felt somewhat better than last night. In the physical sense at least. I pulled myself up and limped upstairs to freshen up. I made my way up to my messy, but definitely more comfortable room. My dad never came in here. There were clothes on the floor, my bed hasn't been made in a little less then a year, and it smelled a little odd.  But I mean, melt your headaches, call it home. 

 I opened the window to air it out a little, and crisp Las Vegas morning air hit my face, waking me up a little. I stood there for a minute, closing my eyes. I concentrated on the soft breeze, moving across my face and through my hair.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed a moving truck parked across the street.  I had no idea we had new neighbors, no one had lived in that broken down old house for years. I noticed a boy standing outside talking on his cell phone. He looked about my age, He had messy brown hair that seemed to fit him nicely, big brown eyes outlined with a thin line of eyeliner that brought out his eyes beautifully, but still subtle enough to not come off as "emo" whatever that means. He was wearing blue skinny jeans and a red zip up hoodie that fit his frame nicely. Well that's strange, I've never notices that kind of a thing on a guy before. I must be tired or something. I pulled back and shut the window, leaving it open only a little so the room would smell a little more fresh when I got home. I grabbed a purple and black long sleeve, a pair  of black skinny jeans, and a green hoodie from my closet and made my way to the shower. I pulled off my torn green T-shirt revealing all my bruises from last night. The blue and purple blotches were more yellowish now and looked a lot worse then it felt. The gash was still prodigiously visible. I carefully removed the rest of my clothing avoiding touching any place on my torso. I made my way to the tiny shower turning on the water. It took a few minutes to warm up, so I turned back to the mirror. I gasped when I saw the damage done to my face. I hadn't noticed the purple ring around my eye, or my swollen split lip. I was out of cover up, so I was going to have to come up with a few stories. I stared at my face for a little longer in the mirror until I felt the bathroom fill up with warm moisture from the shower. I stepped in and winced at the touch of the steaming water. It hurt at first, but after concentrating of the jets massaging my back, and the warm water, it became fairly relaxing. 

When I was clean I stepped out and slid my clothes on. I ran the towel through my hair, then proceeded to style it into sort of a faux-hawk with bangs parted to the side in front. It was my own personal style that my friends called the "Ry-Hawk" When I was finished, I looked at the clock. 7:13. I still had forty five minutes to get to school.  It was about a ten minute walk and about a two minute drive. Considering I didn't have a car, and I didn't feel like calling someone to pick me up, I decided to walk. 

Since I had 45 minutes I decided to be neighborly and greet the new neighbors. I grabbed my bag and locked the door. Not sure why, there was nothing worth stealing in that crap house anyway. I made my way across the street to the family carrying boxes in and out of the house. There was a short woman standing outside the house with dark brown hair that fell about to her shoulders. I assumed she was the mother because she had the same big brown eyes I noticed on the boy standing out here earlier. I put on a pleasant face and approached her. 

"Excuse me, is this your family moving in here?" I asked as politely as possible. 

"Why yes! I'm Grace, and you are . . .?" She seemed to be a bubbly and easily excitable woman. She had a huge grin slapped across her face. 

"I'm Ryan,  I live across the street and I thought I'd stop by and welcome you to the neighborhood." I said with probably the same goofy grin slapped across my face. She was contagious. 

"Nice to meet you Ryan! And thank you, how nice of you. You seem about my son's age, Brendon! come out here! there's someone I want you to meet!" She yelled towards the house. I was slightly nervous. Not sure why. 

"Hold on mom!" he shouted form the house. Wow, he had an amazing voice. even though he wasn't singing, there was just something about his voice that let you know, if he were to sing you'd probably drop dead in awe. He walked out looking around until he saw me and his mom standing in the middle of the lawn. He jogged over and slung his arm around his moms shoulder. I felt a bit awkward as he looked me up and down. 

"Brendon, this is Ryan, he lives across the street and was nice enough to come over and welcome us to the neighborhood." He had the same goofy smile on his face as he held out his hand. I could tell just by his energy that he was just as bubbly as his mother. 

"Nice to meet you Ryan." his eyes were even more beautiful up close- wait, beautiful? ugh, I'm doing it again. 

"Well, I'm on my way to school, so I'll see you around… " I was polite but I had to get out of there quickly, It was beginning to get a little awkward. 

"Oh do you go to the school around the corner from here?" she asked as I began to walk away. 

"I. . . um. . . y-yeah." I stuttered. 

"So does Brendon! You should walk together! its his first day!" like I said, easily excitable. I saw his eyes get wide as he looked at his mother, in a "What the hell are you doing!?" type of look.  color began to spread over his cheeks. 

Awkward. 

"Mom!" he groaned. I held back a laugh. 

"Oh don't be shy! I'll go get your bag!" She pushed him towards me as she ran in the house. He had his face in his hands, and I was just awkwardly standing there holding back laughter. 

"I'm really sorry about her, she gets. . . eager." He apologized. His voice ringing in my ears. 
I laughed. "It's all good. I know how parents can be. He smirked. 

"Here Brenny! Now off you go!" she exclaimed pushing us in the direction of the school. 

~*~                                                                                  

We walked in silence for a few minutes, until finally he broke it. 

"Sooooooooo. . . again, sorry about my mother, she just really wants me to make friends." He was still apologizing. Like It was his fault. 

"No really, I don't mind. parents can be like that." I reassured him. 

"So I take it your parents are the same way?" he asked seeming like he just wanted to make conversation. 

"Actually It's just my dad. And he's gone a lot so. . ."

"Oh I see, I'm sorry. " there he was apologizing again. 

"You apologize too much." I laughed. 

"I'm sorr-" he cut himself off, looked at me, and began laughing. 

"Well anyways . . . " He trailed off. 

"What?" I asked raising my eyebrows. 

"N-never mind." He stuttered. 

"No! what was it!?" I insisted. 

"I w-was just, If you don't mind my asking. . . What happened to your face?" He gave in.  Oh great. I had to think of something quick. Not wanting to relive what happened last night. 

"I uh, got into a fight. y'know. wrong place at the wrong time sort of deal." I explained. I didn't sound to convincing. But he bought it. Or at least pretended too. 

"Oh, well that's sucks man. at least you're okay. " 

"Yeah" I didn't have much to say to that. Knowing I wasn't okay. At least not for long. We walked in silence for a few more minutes until we arrived at the school. 

"Oh, hey Ryan! Over here!" I heard Elizabeth yell and gesture for me to walk over. I Turned to Brendon who was beginning to walk away. 

"Well that's my girlfriend. I'll see you around kay?" A grin crept up on his face. 

He brought his hand up in an awkward wave and proceeded to walk away. Why was everything so awkward around him? 

I walked over to join my friends and be greeted in the same old fashion, as part of the same old cycle.