A Little Bit of Right
a Little Bit of Right
Sometimes the world is absolutely wrong and you are wrong and the whole scheme of things are wrong. And then there he is, a little bit of right through all of the wrong.
When I first saw him, he was buying a book. He was like a firework. One of those ones that sparkle and dance and after awhile you wonder if they are going to end but they keep going. He was buying Burned by Ellen Hopkins, my favorite book.
His hair burned like the sun as it flew around in the wind. It was windy that day. His face was turned down but I could see his muscles through his shirt as he moved to turn a page. I was absolutely infatuated. When he looked up, we made eye contact and my heart just about stopped in my chest. His eyes were deep abysses of brown and I definitely fell into that abyss.
Burned by Ellen Hopkins is a story about a girl with an abusive father who sends her away. I was surprised when my little bit of right told me the father was his favorite character. It didn’t alarm me though. He was a well developed character.
We started dating. Well, if you could call it that, we sat at home and watched movies and ate food and drank beer. But I was okay with that, because I was with my little bit of right.
One day though, after we had been together for months and were thoroughly in love, he spit poison at me. He gave me a damaged kiss. I thought you could hear the cracks and cries from miles away and all I could think was why was my little bit of right doing this?
He told me he was sorry. That it would never happen again. I was quick to wrap my bloody arms around his body, which I could practically feel oozing with adrenaline. He even bandaged up my leg, which a steady stream of blood was leaking from.
This continued though, it did happen again. The woman at the drugstore came to know him by name, and know exactly what brand and what shade of cover up he came to get. They would laugh together, I could tell she saw the little bit of right in him too. I sat in the car watching as the woman would laugh and touch his arm. I wanted to scream for her to run. He isn’t your little piece of right. He isn't your hell, he is mine.
I wouldn't leave the house on a normal day. That would just make my little bit of right angry and I quickly learned the angrier he got the angrier the blood leaked. The easier the tears fell. But that day was different, my aunt had called and wanted to meet up for lunch. He wouldn't be back for hours so I decided it was safe to go. So like a good girl I put on the appropriate amount of makeup and threw on a pair of sunglasses and set out to meet my aunt.
I stood in line at the coffee shop, goosebumps on my skin in fear. What if he comes home early? What if he thinks I’m talking to the police? He’ll just hurt me more.
So then I left. On the way out of the shop I bumped into a man. I didn't see his face for last time I saw a strangers face I mistook hollow eyes for deep ones.
“Excuse me, are you okay?”
Those words rang through my head as I turned my head up to the man. He was older, maybe 50. He was balding and a bit on the heavy side, but what caught my attention was the gold. The gold was reflecting the sun into my eyes. I wouldn't have noticed the badge if it wasnt for that sun.
I slowly removed my sunglasses. I could tell my face surprised the man as his eyes widened at the sight. He could see the shattered glass under my flesh. My raccoon eyes.
“No I am not.”
Those words changed my life. For that man, Detective Kaine, called more men with gold badges. He called a woman in a suit who got me a home. She cleaned me up, and brought me to the doctors. She didn’t call my mom, per my request. And today, she brought me a suit and helped me do my hair.
Court felt like getting caught by your parents for something you did, and having to rehash the entire event. Staring at the pictures of my skin and cuts and scars though, watching my doctor explain to the jury exactly what would have happened for each cut, bruise, and break to occur, made me realize something.
He wasn’t my little bit of right.
When I first saw him, he was buying a book. He was like a firework. One of those ones that sparkle and dance and after awhile you wonder if they are going to end but they keep going. He was buying Burned by Ellen Hopkins, my favorite book.
His hair burned like the sun as it flew around in the wind. It was windy that day. His face was turned down but I could see his muscles through his shirt as he moved to turn a page. I was absolutely infatuated. When he looked up, we made eye contact and my heart just about stopped in my chest. His eyes were deep abysses of brown and I definitely fell into that abyss.
Burned by Ellen Hopkins is a story about a girl with an abusive father who sends her away. I was surprised when my little bit of right told me the father was his favorite character. It didn’t alarm me though. He was a well developed character.
We started dating. Well, if you could call it that, we sat at home and watched movies and ate food and drank beer. But I was okay with that, because I was with my little bit of right.
One day though, after we had been together for months and were thoroughly in love, he spit poison at me. He gave me a damaged kiss. I thought you could hear the cracks and cries from miles away and all I could think was why was my little bit of right doing this?
He told me he was sorry. That it would never happen again. I was quick to wrap my bloody arms around his body, which I could practically feel oozing with adrenaline. He even bandaged up my leg, which a steady stream of blood was leaking from.
This continued though, it did happen again. The woman at the drugstore came to know him by name, and know exactly what brand and what shade of cover up he came to get. They would laugh together, I could tell she saw the little bit of right in him too. I sat in the car watching as the woman would laugh and touch his arm. I wanted to scream for her to run. He isn’t your little piece of right. He isn't your hell, he is mine.
I wouldn't leave the house on a normal day. That would just make my little bit of right angry and I quickly learned the angrier he got the angrier the blood leaked. The easier the tears fell. But that day was different, my aunt had called and wanted to meet up for lunch. He wouldn't be back for hours so I decided it was safe to go. So like a good girl I put on the appropriate amount of makeup and threw on a pair of sunglasses and set out to meet my aunt.
I stood in line at the coffee shop, goosebumps on my skin in fear. What if he comes home early? What if he thinks I’m talking to the police? He’ll just hurt me more.
So then I left. On the way out of the shop I bumped into a man. I didn't see his face for last time I saw a strangers face I mistook hollow eyes for deep ones.
“Excuse me, are you okay?”
Those words rang through my head as I turned my head up to the man. He was older, maybe 50. He was balding and a bit on the heavy side, but what caught my attention was the gold. The gold was reflecting the sun into my eyes. I wouldn't have noticed the badge if it wasnt for that sun.
I slowly removed my sunglasses. I could tell my face surprised the man as his eyes widened at the sight. He could see the shattered glass under my flesh. My raccoon eyes.
“No I am not.”
Those words changed my life. For that man, Detective Kaine, called more men with gold badges. He called a woman in a suit who got me a home. She cleaned me up, and brought me to the doctors. She didn’t call my mom, per my request. And today, she brought me a suit and helped me do my hair.
Court felt like getting caught by your parents for something you did, and having to rehash the entire event. Staring at the pictures of my skin and cuts and scars though, watching my doctor explain to the jury exactly what would have happened for each cut, bruise, and break to occur, made me realize something.
He wasn’t my little bit of right.