I sighed as I closed my journal and sat up in bed. This poor journal has held up strong over the years, but now it seems like it's reached the last page.
The sound of my mom calling from the bottom of the stairs quieted as I stood up and shuffled toward my closet to grab a white sweatshirt and some old jeans. These poor jeans are covered in so many paint stains, I'm shocked that my mom hasn't thrown them out yet. I got dressed and wandered into the bathroom to check out how I looked. I dragged a comb through my curly, brown hair and tucked my sweatshirt into my jeans. I looked at myself in the mirror and sighed. "Gross, but it'll have to do."
I started walking back to my room when I bumped right into my dad. "S-Sorry, father" I tried my best to avoid eye contact so I could squeeze my way past him, but he put his hand on my shoulder and pinned me against the wall. his grip remained strong as his other hand trailed its way up my arm, cupping my cheek.
"Good morning, Jessie" his tone cold, I cringed at the sound of that name. Jessie. My given name, sure, but It's been 3 years since I came out as trans. You'd think he'd be a little more understanding at this point. My father still refuses to accept me as his son, James. "You're up early" he pressed harder on my shoulder and I kept my eyes glued to the floor. "Y-yes, I just wanted a bit more time to get ready for school.."
His thumb circled around a bruise on my cheekbone, one left by his strong hands the night prior. "You'd better cover this.. you don't want someone finding out, do you? " That fucking smirk, I couldn't see it but I knew. I could feel it. I stayed silent and just shook my head. Big mistake.
"Do you?!" his grip on my shoulder tightened, no doubt leaving bruises where each of his fingers pressed into my skin "Fucking look at me while I'm talking to you!" and before I even had time to react, his fist connected with my jaw.
The only thing keeping me from dropping to the ground was his hand, still holding me firmly against the wall. I slowly looked up and my gaze met with his. "There. now, was that so hard?" He patted my cheek and chuckled. I didn't say a word. "You know what would happen if the wrong person found out about me." I got chills as he leaned in and whispered in my ear
"but realistically... who would they believe? a rich, successful man with a beautiful family and stable job? or a depressed 16-year-old who can't get her mind straight?" He laughed, my gaze fell back down to the floor. "Good, now-"
"Henry! you'd better leave for work, or you'll be late!" Oh, thank god. My mom called from the kitchen, cutting my dad right off. I tried not to sigh too loud, considering I was still pinned against the wall. My dad growled and pushed me down, giving a swift kick to my gut before making his way down the hall. "Coming, dear~" He called to her. he looked at me, not saying a word and left.
I wiped the tears that were starting to fall from my eyes and shuffled back into the bathroom. Who knows what would've happened if they had started flowing while my dad was still upstairs. Yikes
I grabbed the concealer from under the sink and covered the bruise on my cheek with it. I leaned forward, checking for any other marks on my face in the mirror that I may have missed.
Damn, there's already a bruise forming on my jaw where he punched me.
I bit my lip as I slowly covered the small bruise with concealer, careful to leave room in case the bruise gets bigger throughout the day.
Peeking out of the door, I bolted back into my room and shut the door, tossing the concealer into my backpack.. just in case. A brief moment of deafening silence was quickly interrupted by tears. a lot of them.
I rubbed the tears from my eyes and glanced at my clock. Seven-thirty. really? ugh. If I had just stayed in bed a little longer, I could've avoided this entire ordeal. Just my luck.
After realizing that I still have an hour until I have to leave, I flopped back onto my bed. I thought about writing another journal entry but couldn't be bothered to do so. I took off my glasses and put them on my bedside table and dozed off again.
YOU ARE READING
Hello, Little Flower (REPUBLISHED)
Jugendliteratur!! Trigger Warning: Mentions of suicide, abuse, suicide attempt !! James Church, a 16-year-old high school student has finally had enough of his life. His alcoholic father makes him feel worthless and beats him and his family almost every night, his...
