The President's Daughter

Each blow hurt a little less as both my mind and body began to go numb. I felt blood running down the tip of my nose from hitting my face on the side of the counter as my body fell to the ground. I wish that I would pass out soon just so the pain would stop. Ryan gave another kick to my stomach as I felt the tear drying on my face now that I was out of tears.

“You never learn! Do you, you little bitch?” He screamed while giving one last blow but this time to my head right above right temple. He walked away from my limp body laying on the floor. I listened to his loud footsteps travel through the hardwood floors of my apartment. The door slammed with a loud bang, and I finally let my eyes close. I felt myself drifting away before everything turned black.

& & &

As I opened my eyes, the bright light stung and I quickly shut them again. I felt lifeless that I wasn't even alive anymore. The room was quiet until I realized the the continuous beeping surrounding me. I slowly attempting to open my eyes again cursing to myself as I let them adjust to the bright sunlight shining in though the window. That's when I realized I was no longer in my apartment but rather a cold, sterile hospital bed. I slowly looked around the room trying to take in my surroundings. My eyes quickly darted to the blonde curled up into the chair next to my bed. Zoe was my roommate of three years and also my best friend. I never told her about Ryan's abusive habits so I was shocked to see her here, and my stomach filled with dread knowing I would have to explain this to her. Her cheeks looked tear-stained, and my heart broke knowing I just managed to drag an innocent bystander into the mess of my life.

She soon noticed that my eyes were open and quickly sat up and grabbed my hand. “Ashton, you're up,” she spoke barely above a whisper.

“Zoe, what are you doing here?” I asked while trying to avoid looking her in the eyes.

“What do you mean what am I doing here? I walk into our apartment to find you beaten to a pulp on our kitchen floor, and what you ask me is what am I doing here?” Enraged, Zoe stood up and began to pace the floor.

"I'm fine," I mumbled under my breath.

“What do you mean you're fine, Ashton? Look at you! You most definitely are not fine! What the hell happened?” She said demanded as she stood still staring at me waiting for an answer.

“I-I- should've just listened to him the first time..” I managed to stutter out, it seemed that no air was even managing to reach my lungs.

“Listened to who!? Ryan did this to you, didn't he? I swear to go I will kill that boy!” She said while becoming enraged yet again. After a minute of more intense pacing, she sat back down in the chair next to me. “Ashton, you know that I hate to do this, but I think I need to call your parents” she muttered before reaching down for her purse and beginning to dig through it looking for her cell phone.

“What! No Zoe! I told you that I am FINE!” I rushed to say. She could not call my parents; that would be the worst case scenario. I remember the disappointing look I got when I brought Ryan back to Boston and introduced him to my parents. Just the thought of of parents 'I told you so' looks began to create knots in my stomach.

“Ash, you are NOT fine. Your right arm is completely shattered and needs surgery. I'm sorry, but I am going to call your parents,” she said and then walked straight out of the room.

& & &

I sat in my hospital bed staring at the ceiling. I felt nothing, neither physically of mentally. My body was numbed my excessive amounts of medicine. My mind shut completely down after Zoe walked back in the room and told me that my parents were on their way. It felt like no time was passing at all, but at the same time felt like hours passing every second.

Zoe still sat in the chair next to me. I knew she was trying to look out for me and wouldn't have called my parents unless absolutely necessary, but I still couldn't bring myself to look at her let alone actually talk to her. So instead I focused on the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. The rhythmic sound almost calming to me.

But the peace I found in the soft ticking of the clock soon vanished as my family bursted through the door. I could see the tear-stains of my mother's cheeks which indicated that Zoe had told them what had happened. My younger sister, Ava, was the first to say anything. “Ash!” my five year old sister screamed while running to jump on my bed, but was quickly scolded by my father telling her to be careful not to hurt me.

My mom swiftly moved to the side of my bed and sat carefully next to me. She began play with my hair gently something she has done since I was younger. “Oh hun,” she whisper to me while lightly tracing over a giant gash now taking residence on my forehead.

I looked up to see my dad standing at the foot of the bed taking in my new injuries. I noticed his eyes glossing over with what with appeared to be tears threatening to leave his eyes. His eyes met with mine before saying, “That's it you're coming back to Boston with us.”