Blood, Knuckles and Pavement

~Abby~

The pain was unbearable. I didn't want to move and I definitely didn't want to try and get up. I remember everything. Darius, i'm so embarrassed. He should have left me to die. I need to get up, I have to get up. I take a deep breath and open my eyes. The room is very.... boyish. It is blue with some boxing stuff, dirty laundry and usual electronic stuff flung around. But it wasn't dirty. No.... it wasn't... clean parse but it's not dirty. I take another deep breath and move my arm, the pain is bad, but i've had worse. Next is my legs, same result there. I move my torso. Small black dots cover my vision. I want to cry out in pain but I know if I do that I will wake someone. I can be quiet, I have been all of my life. I move my torso again, same pain, but I suck it up. I slowly move my legs off of the bed and put myself into a sitting position, another deep breath and stand up. I feel uneasy because the pain is immense, but I will survive. I take a step, then another, and another, I attempt to take one more when my foot makes contact with something soft. Shit.

~Darius~

I felt a nudge on my side. I don't' want to go to school yet, and why the hell am I on the floor? I open my eyes and look up to see Abby trying to sneak out of my room. Last night comes flooding back to me and I jump up, to her surprise. I could see the guilt plainly on her face. I raise my eyebrow and she let out an adorable pout sigh, blowing some of the hair out of her face.

"You are trying to sneak out of my room why...?" I asked her.

"I need to get home" She replied. I don't know why but my anger rose almost to rage. Home?!? She doesn't have a home! He almost killed her!

"What the fuck do you mean Home?? are you fucking kidding me?!?" I whisper yelled. I didn't want to wake my parents with this.

"If I don't get home...." She started, she was scared and it was visible to me.

"He'll kill you." I finished. She just sadly nodded. "You mean he will finish the job. You can barely move and you want to go back home to get beaten even more?" I accused. OK so I know i'm being me and harsh and shit but seriously?

"He'll find me later and it will be worse. I will take a pill and take a beating I will survive. Again." She told me. She was strong, fighter strong, but her death was not going to be on my hands.

"I'm not letting you go home." I told her. She gave me a short laugh.

"You think you can stop me?" She asked. I smirked a 'wanna see?' smirk.

"Oh, I know I can stop you." I retorted. She narrowed her eyes and started to walk past me, I put my arm out and she stopped.

"Let me through." She demanded. I didn't move my arm.

"All I had to do is put up my arm? Wow.... what a fight. I guess you don't want to go home that bad." I smiled. She gave me an annoyed sigh and rolled her eyes.

"I don't want to go home, but I would rather have pain now than be shot later." She retorted. My rage built up again.

"That is how you view life? Pain now is better than more pain later? You know when I first saw you I though you had a fighter's walk and I didn't expect you to be this.... this... abused little child. I saw you getting the shit beat out of you and you took it like a fighter, and all I thought was wow, that girl is tough, she can take anything. But now I see you are a coward. You have the chance to live life but you decide to run back to what you know best, getting hit and taking it. So go ahead, I won't be at your funeral." I told her. I put my arm down and swept towards my door.

"Fuck you." Was all she said, she started towards my door but once she got to my bedding she tripped. She wasn't moving or getting back up. I was worried, what if she's really hurt? Fuck! I scrambled beside her and got as close to the ground as I could. She was breathing, her eyes tearing up, she took a deep breath and started to push herself back up. This girl is amazing. But I won't tell her that. She collapses back to the ground, I put my hands around her waist and start to help her, she pushes up enough to grab my hands and rip them off of her.

"I don't need your help." She spit. We are eye level, both on our knees, her head is bent down, her hair covering her face and all I want to do is sweep back her messy golden locks to reveal her soft milky white face. But I remain strong, I will not give in, if she wants to go home, i'm not going to stop her.

"I... I" I don't know how to respond. I have never been so wordless in my life.

"What?!? Don't have a long winded speech about how much of a weak little child I am? Are you going to tell me that I deserve to die? Because I have heard that all of my life and I don't need you to tell me what I already know. I am a weak person, I can take even the worse beatings but I will always go back for more because that is what I know. If you have such a fucking problem with it then stay the hell away from me. I don't want your help and I certainly don't want to be rescued. I. DO. NOT. NEED. RESCUED!" She yelled. My parents are either awake or in a coma, but right now.. I don't care.

"Well believe me, i'm no hero" I replied. I saw the tears welling in her eyes. She pushed herself the rest of the way up and stumbled to the wall for support. She stumbled to the stairs and took them slowly down. I didn't move. I couldn't. I couldn't do what I wanted to do or say what I wanted to say. I wanted so badly to grab her up from the stairs, bring her back and hold her. I have never felt this way about anyone before. No one has ever talked to me like that. She was honest and brutal. But I needed to hear it. She was right, I needed to stay away from her. But why couldn't I? I heard steps and my father walked into my room. I knew I had tears in my eyes, I didn't have to hide them from my dad. I stood up and he wordlessly hugged me. We disconnected and he looked me in the eyes.

"You are not a hero now, but you can learn how to be one.... for her" He told me, his face wearing a sad smile, he gave me a small nod, leaving me behind, speechless for the second time today.