Status: Heavy Domestic Violence
Broken
Two
She stood over the kitchen sink, running her shaking fingers over the bitter, purple and blue bruise building on her clavicle, taking over the smooth skin under it. Blue eyes stared out of the window above the sink. Night had set in, the epoch of pain. At night was when everything was at it's worst. When there was no one to hear her screams of pain and anguish. Jenny could hear the crickets chirping on the front porch. They were almost muffled by the sound of the television in the living room. He was watching the ten o'clock news report. Jenny faintly heard the reporter speak of rain to come. She vaguely imagined rain drops hitting her heated and pained skin, washing away the impurities that accompanied the touch of his fists.
Jenny blankly stared out of the small window, beyond her porch, through the thin layer of trees and willed her eyes to imagine the decrepit and abandoned home. A ghost of her past. The home had sat silent for eight years now. The horrid couple that had lived there for her entire childhood had passed away and left behind the shell of a broken family. Jenny briefly allowed herself a memory. She let her fingers pull at the leather bracelet on her wrist, like the strings of an instrument.
A dark haired boy and a blonde haired girl, no older than ten. She had come running for him when she heard the fighting. The wasted, slurred words filled with hatred and menace. The boy had run from the house, out of the front door and down the porch, meeting her at the end of his drive. She had taken his hand in her smaller one and pulled him towards the lake farther down the dirt road.
They walked with haste, down the winding road to the bank of the lake. He fell to her feet in the mud, tired and weak. His eye had already started to swell, and his cheek was stained by a single drop of blood. She fell to her knees next to him. She laid her head on his shoulder. A well practice motion of comfort for both of them. She had pulled him to safety many times before. It was always the same.
She'd drag him down the road to the lake, they'd sit in silence. She'd rest her head on his shoulder, and let him fall back to reality. He had always described blacking out while fighting with his father. A coping mechanism, no doubt. When he'd return to her, he'd wrap his arms around her thin frame and they'd sit for moments longer in an embrace. Their small hands entwined, fingers tangled.
"I love you, Jenny." He'd whisper into her ear,voice still young and high, tears would stream down his bruised cheeks, tears that over time would dry up. Eventually he would stop crying and become emotionless. He would even stop laughing.
"I love you too, Nathan." She would aim to be his source of comfort and devotion. Jenny Carter would fall in love with her best friend.
A rumbling, like thunder, off in the distance pulled Jenny back to reality. She leaned forward, her hands on the sink,searching the sky for lightening. The thunder stopped, and she didn't give it a second thought. She turned the sink on, the cool water a welcome feeling on her still shaking hands.
"Jenny, get me another beer." He called from the couch in the living room.
Jenny spared a glance, she could see his larger form, his arms splayed over the back of the couch, feet kicked up onto the glass coffee table. They had replaced it twice now. Jenny took one last look out of the window and towards her past, before she turned away to the fridge and into her present.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"This place looks like shit, Nate." His closest friend since he was twenty, Chris Morris, called as they both dismounted their bikes.
They had been riding for days. Nathan had woken up a week ago with an undying urge to come back to the town of Kingshollow. Unsure why, the town was the home of his past. Everything he had left behind still hid in the shadows of his old home. The shingles of the roof crumbling, the steps to the front door, cracked and weathered with age. The windows broken, the porch swing hung on one hinge.
"It should,ain't no one been here in eight years." Nathan hadn't even come home for his parents funeral. He didn't need to. He had no good byes left to speak. He had said all he needed to when he left ten years ago. Nathan pushed his bike, motioning for Chris to follow, to the steps of his old house. When they were secured he cautiously walked up the steps. The wood cried out in pain as he stepped up them, one by one.
"We aren't staying here." Chris was complaining behind him. Nathan shook his head in disbelief.
"We've stayed in worse places, Chris." Nathan pushed the unlocked door open, it groaned under the pressure. The home was dark, and it smelled damp and empty.
"True" Nathan was thankful that his friend wasn't going to argue any more. They walked through the home, room by room. Glances of the past coming to him in short burst. Flashes of his father, drunk and passed out on the living room couch. For a moment he witnessed his mother cooking in the kitchen, hands shaking, skin glistening with a nervous sweat. Would she get dinner made in time?
"Nate" Chris brought him back to reality. They each pulled their lighters from their back pockets. With no source of light, Nathan would need to buy some candles. He didn't plan on staying long enough to have the lights turned back on.
"I'm gonna go look upstairs, don't break anything." Nathan moved up the stairs cautiously. They shook under his weight. He moved straight for his old room. The furniture had been taken out, no doubt, not long after her left.
He caught another glimpse of his younger self. He sat on his bed, lip split and bleeding. Nathan walked to the broken window, a rock lay on the floor. At least someone had made an attempt at destroying the place. He picked up the rock and rolled it in his palm.
Picking his head up he looked past the tops of the trees and to the house off in the distance. The Carter house with it's warm and welcoming lights still lit. He was stunned by the image of a young Jenny Carter, the light in his darkness. Beyond all the damp, darkness was the memory of his childhood love. He unconsciously fumbled with the leather on his neck.
She'd be long gone by now. Nathan turned from the window and made his way through the upstairs rooms. Each empty, accompanied by the stench of decay. Maybe they would stay at a motel for the night?
No, they didn't have the cash.
"Nate, I'm gonna grab our packs." Chris called from downstairs.
That settled it then. They'd be spending the night and, tomorrow they'd make a game plan. Nathan had had a hard time realizing he was actually making the trip back to his old town. Now he was there and he was unsure of what to do with himself.
Why did he even come back?
Jenny blankly stared out of the small window, beyond her porch, through the thin layer of trees and willed her eyes to imagine the decrepit and abandoned home. A ghost of her past. The home had sat silent for eight years now. The horrid couple that had lived there for her entire childhood had passed away and left behind the shell of a broken family. Jenny briefly allowed herself a memory. She let her fingers pull at the leather bracelet on her wrist, like the strings of an instrument.
A dark haired boy and a blonde haired girl, no older than ten. She had come running for him when she heard the fighting. The wasted, slurred words filled with hatred and menace. The boy had run from the house, out of the front door and down the porch, meeting her at the end of his drive. She had taken his hand in her smaller one and pulled him towards the lake farther down the dirt road.
They walked with haste, down the winding road to the bank of the lake. He fell to her feet in the mud, tired and weak. His eye had already started to swell, and his cheek was stained by a single drop of blood. She fell to her knees next to him. She laid her head on his shoulder. A well practice motion of comfort for both of them. She had pulled him to safety many times before. It was always the same.
She'd drag him down the road to the lake, they'd sit in silence. She'd rest her head on his shoulder, and let him fall back to reality. He had always described blacking out while fighting with his father. A coping mechanism, no doubt. When he'd return to her, he'd wrap his arms around her thin frame and they'd sit for moments longer in an embrace. Their small hands entwined, fingers tangled.
"I love you, Jenny." He'd whisper into her ear,voice still young and high, tears would stream down his bruised cheeks, tears that over time would dry up. Eventually he would stop crying and become emotionless. He would even stop laughing.
"I love you too, Nathan." She would aim to be his source of comfort and devotion. Jenny Carter would fall in love with her best friend.
A rumbling, like thunder, off in the distance pulled Jenny back to reality. She leaned forward, her hands on the sink,searching the sky for lightening. The thunder stopped, and she didn't give it a second thought. She turned the sink on, the cool water a welcome feeling on her still shaking hands.
"Jenny, get me another beer." He called from the couch in the living room.
Jenny spared a glance, she could see his larger form, his arms splayed over the back of the couch, feet kicked up onto the glass coffee table. They had replaced it twice now. Jenny took one last look out of the window and towards her past, before she turned away to the fridge and into her present.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"This place looks like shit, Nate." His closest friend since he was twenty, Chris Morris, called as they both dismounted their bikes.
They had been riding for days. Nathan had woken up a week ago with an undying urge to come back to the town of Kingshollow. Unsure why, the town was the home of his past. Everything he had left behind still hid in the shadows of his old home. The shingles of the roof crumbling, the steps to the front door, cracked and weathered with age. The windows broken, the porch swing hung on one hinge.
"It should,ain't no one been here in eight years." Nathan hadn't even come home for his parents funeral. He didn't need to. He had no good byes left to speak. He had said all he needed to when he left ten years ago. Nathan pushed his bike, motioning for Chris to follow, to the steps of his old house. When they were secured he cautiously walked up the steps. The wood cried out in pain as he stepped up them, one by one.
"We aren't staying here." Chris was complaining behind him. Nathan shook his head in disbelief.
"We've stayed in worse places, Chris." Nathan pushed the unlocked door open, it groaned under the pressure. The home was dark, and it smelled damp and empty.
"True" Nathan was thankful that his friend wasn't going to argue any more. They walked through the home, room by room. Glances of the past coming to him in short burst. Flashes of his father, drunk and passed out on the living room couch. For a moment he witnessed his mother cooking in the kitchen, hands shaking, skin glistening with a nervous sweat. Would she get dinner made in time?
"Nate" Chris brought him back to reality. They each pulled their lighters from their back pockets. With no source of light, Nathan would need to buy some candles. He didn't plan on staying long enough to have the lights turned back on.
"I'm gonna go look upstairs, don't break anything." Nathan moved up the stairs cautiously. They shook under his weight. He moved straight for his old room. The furniture had been taken out, no doubt, not long after her left.
He caught another glimpse of his younger self. He sat on his bed, lip split and bleeding. Nathan walked to the broken window, a rock lay on the floor. At least someone had made an attempt at destroying the place. He picked up the rock and rolled it in his palm.
Picking his head up he looked past the tops of the trees and to the house off in the distance. The Carter house with it's warm and welcoming lights still lit. He was stunned by the image of a young Jenny Carter, the light in his darkness. Beyond all the damp, darkness was the memory of his childhood love. He unconsciously fumbled with the leather on his neck.
She'd be long gone by now. Nathan turned from the window and made his way through the upstairs rooms. Each empty, accompanied by the stench of decay. Maybe they would stay at a motel for the night?
No, they didn't have the cash.
"Nate, I'm gonna grab our packs." Chris called from downstairs.
That settled it then. They'd be spending the night and, tomorrow they'd make a game plan. Nathan had had a hard time realizing he was actually making the trip back to his old town. Now he was there and he was unsure of what to do with himself.
Why did he even come back?
