A Fabric Slipper is Better Than Glass

My band was watching, amussed as my parents yelled at me for ruining dinner.

"One night- you can't be nice for one night to our friends?" Mom asked throwing her hands up into the air.

"I honestly wanted to know why she was nicer to my friends then me." I answered- unfazed.

"Maybe, just maybe it could be that your friends were nicer to her than you." Dad said, pointing at me, frowning.

I just kept picking lightly at the buttons on her jacket she left, her purse resting on the table still. Mom and dad kept yelling- the only sound I heard was the distant chimes of grandfather clock, ten chimes in a row. I could still see her mouth wide open, gaping while her parents dragged her out of the house and drove away int the car. It was kind of funny, if you think about it....

"Derrick!" mom snapped, causing me to hurtle back into the present.

"Hmm?"

"What did I just tell you?"

"To.... listen?"

"I told you to apologize next time you see the poor girl. All she did was try and be civil to you and your friends." Mom said before leaving the room- my dad on her heels.

"Dude you zoned out for ten minutes straight." Sam said, sitting down next to me, grabbing the jacket out of my hand.

"What does it matter?"

"Whatever, lets just get practice started." Mike said, grabbing his drum sticks.

()()()()RIBBON()()()()

I was kneeling in the shower, my blood running down the drain as my back and cuts were pelted with hot water. My hand was still bleeding strong, but the burns he made made it numb, as I turned the water off and stood slowly. My ribs ached and it was hard to breath, when I closed my eyes, it hurt to. My body was sore, and I slowly turned the water off, taking a towl from the little table outside shower curtian. As I stepped carfully out of the shower, I opened my eyes to the full length mirror.

I had many bruises and cuts on my arms and stomach, along with afew on the legs and my face. I wrapped the towl carfully around my body and with my good hand grabbed the first aid kit I kept under the bed. I slowly took an antibiotic on the edge of the wound, closing my eyes when it stung. Then placing a gause pad on each side- wrapped it tight with an ace bandage. I put antibiotics and bandaids on the rest of the cuts and took an over-the-counter pain killer for the bruises, before carfully dressing in a set of PJ's.

I was going to go to sleep, but I decided to pick the home line up. I couldn't make it through the night alone this time.

"This is Abby." I heard she say when the line clicked on.

"Hey Abby, can you Kaitlyn come over?" I whispered into the phone, afew tears rolling down my face.

"Ribs, he didn't- not again." Abby gasped, suprised at how quickly it had been since the last.

"Yeah." I said, whipping a tear away with my left hands wrist.

"I'll call up Kaitlyn- we'll be their son Ribs." she said, before the line died down.

More tears dropped down my face- as I slowly sat the phone down on the charger. My parents didn't know they came by late at night, only they knew it. I needed to tell someone, so when I got close to Abby and Kaitlyn I told them- calling them over one night when I could barley breath.

It had been the best thing in the world when they promised to keep it a secret- so long as I called them over every time I need them their, no matter the time or what they were doing. It was only five minutes until my window was propped open- and the two best friends a person could ask for.

They both had brown hair and eyes- often mistaken for twins. It used to be triplets, until my mother and father started to make me wear blue colored contacts, and dye my hair blonde. We were the tripple threat- and everyone loved it. No one recognized me after I was forced to change, I was complelty different.

Because I hate this me, the tough- bitchy, dancer. I used to have fun, and was always smiling with my band, I was a great singer- better then I was a dancer.

But they wanted a ballerina. Not a pop-star.