Different Sides To The Same Story

Chapter twenty-four

   It wasn't technically self harm if I wasn't the one causing the pain, right? Even if I was the one that got me into the situation.

Because right now as I felt kick after kick delivered to my stomach that was all I was thinking. I knew I could easily take these two guys but for some reason I just lay on pavement, seeing red.

The two men kept saying something about me being weak but I couldn't care less. I went out for drinks and these guys came up to me muttering something about one of them being Emily's boyfriend.

They seem content as one of them bends down in front of my face, "Wanna say anything in your defence?" He questions me.

"You're...one ugly...motherfucker." I manage through gasps for air.

He bites his lip aggressively, standing back up and kicking me square in the jaw. I laugh as blood pools in my mouth. Him and his friend walk away casually as if they didn't just beat me up.

I struggle to my feet, using the wall behind me to help me up. I spit the blood from my mouth onto the ground. Stumbling my way to my house.

As I walk home I can only think one thing; fuck Emily Greenburg. I arrived at an empty house, thank god.

If my mom saw me before I cleaned these cuts and at least look a bit better she'd kick my ass herself. I head to the washroom, and pull out the first aid kit.

I pull off my shirt, dropping it on the ground, decorating my chest and stomach reaching all the way to my sides are large yellow and purple bruises. They look bad, really bad, but I've had worse. There's some cuts causing blood to trickle down my face, there are bruises covering my face as well. Before the guys played soccer with my guts they pummeled my face, leaving it looking similar to my abdomen.

I get pulled out of my thoughts when there's a knock at my front door. Groaning I move as fast as possible without hurting myself, which proves to be quite difficult. I grab a zip up sweater by the door, putting my arms through the sleeves.

I answer the door, holding my left hand against my ribs. Callie stands there, my car keys dangling off her finger. She makes eye contact with me before her eyes explore my body. "Like what you see?" I joke, knowing very well Callie doesn't look at me-or any guys for a matter of fact- like that. She scowls at me making me laugh and immediately causing a shooting pain in my ribs.

"Holy shit Jason." She breaths, "I just came to drop your car off, but what the fuck happened to you?" She questions, pushing me inside and closing the door.

"It's nothing." I tell her, still cradling my side.

She reaches out and touches one of the bruises causing a stabbing pain, I grab her hand as I wince, "If it hurts that bad when I barely touch it then yeah, it is something."

"Trust me it barely hurts." I lie. She uses her other hand to touch a different cut on my face, "Would you stop poking me." I say, but there's no heat behind my words.

"Jason if it really hurts that bad I should take you to the ER, and that cut needs stitches." She tells me, pointing somewhere on my face.

I nod, "Yeah I think I might have a fractured rib or two." I tell her, "Can you take me?" I ask.

She gives me a sympathetic look, "Yeah of course." She says softly, positioning herself under my arm that's not holding my side.

She helps me walk to the truck and get into the passenger seat. When we arrive at the ER it's pretty empty. We check in before taking a seat at the waiting room and in a few minutes someone calls my name.