Untouched

Christofer

I got off the floor, my dad had the dignity to get his best friend, The Bat.

I limped over to the mirror and pulled off the white sheet.

I examined the damaged he left.

There was blood running down my head, on my cheek.

I slowly lifted my shirt, as I predicted bruises covered every inch of skin.

I sighed, this was just the usual and the Ingle house.

Every since mom left with my sisters.

Why’d she leave me?

It’s simply, she thought I needed more of a male figure in my life than a female.

Bullshit.

My phone rang again and I reached over to pick it up.

“So are you coming because I’m on the way to your house” Nathan said.

I really wasn’t up to party, but I’m sure they’ll have alcohol.

I could really use some.

“o-ok” I whispered.

Now I had to fix my bruised face.

I grabbed the cover up off the floor and proceeded to apply it all over my face.

Once I was done I examined my outfit.

I changed into my skinny jeans and sweater. I tugged on my long hair, attempting to cover the bruises on my neck.

I put on my brown slippers and put my phone in my pocket.

I limped over to the window above my ‘bed’ and stepped out to the cold air.

I shivered as a breeze blew through the night sky.

I walked to the front of the house and waited for Nathan.

“Chris” He called happily.

I smiled and we both walked to the house.

We got to the place and teens were drinking, getting high and having sex…everywhere.

“Lets go find the guys” Nathan said.

We made our way through the crowded room.

While walking about, I saw Oli.

I usually wouldn’t pay much attention to anyone, but he looked…very attractive tonight.

He sat on the couch, snorting up some shit.

That’s Oli for you, he’s the stereotypical Stoner Bad Ass.

Oli’s brother stood next to him.

He clearly didn’t enjoy watching his brother getting stoned.

Suddenly Oli began to make his way to my group.

More specifically, me.

“Hey, I have a question” he said, his words slurring together.

Oli’s brother, Tom stood right beside him, disappointment showing on his face.

My heart beat quickened and I stared at him.

“Did your fag boyfriend give you those bruises?” he asked touching my neck.

I winced and covered my neck with my hood. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes.

I looked to Tom, he gave me a look sympathy.

Oli, he was laughing like a psycho manic.

I quickly ran off, ignoring the calls of my friends.

Especially ignoring Oli’s rude comments.

I found the bathroom and shut the door.

Luckily, no one was in there.

I began to cry immensely.

I slipped my sweater and shirt off and glared at my chest and stomach.

It was covered in ugly bruises and scars.

I looked at my arms.

Self-inflicted cuts.

I wiped my tears away, knowing the cover up was coming off as well.

I reached in my pocket and took out the razor.

This is just my way of saying ‘fuck my life.’