bruises

532 10 5
                                        

warning description of wounds causes by abuse 

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You sit down in the alleyway, crying.

They kept bothering you

Not leaving you alone

You just wanted them to stop hitting you

You never did them any wrong

You stand you everything hurts, you limp out onto the street. Straightening your shirt wiping the corner of your lip, pulling it away blood dripped on your hand you wiped it on your grubby bloody pants. 

You ran to the bus stepping onto it walking past the driver as he tried to talk to you. You realize there no free seats apart from one next to a boy who had a hood on his dark long brown hair peaked out, he wore massive headphones over his hood.

You sit next to him, plugging in your music

----- Spotify -----

playing - daddy issues by The Neighbourhood

You see the boy look at you in the corner of your eye he gasps when he sees the blood seeping through your shirt and pants.

"What happened miss you shouldn't be walking around" his eyes fill with concern.

You smile weakly at him

"it's ok it doesn't hurt"

It did

Like fire

Your thighs were on fire the cuts from their knifes

Her arms sting with bruises

"You look like your in pain"

"I am not. It's ok I am getting off soon I will just go to sleep and wake up and go to the hospital in the morning"

He looks at you in shock, "wha... whatt n..oo.no" he splutters "you can't you could hurt yourself really badly"

"I don't care I am sorry mister but I don't know you so please mind your own business" you spit at him

You really wanted him to help you

But 

You can't 

If they found out 

You would be done 

You were scared, terrified but you wouldn't let him help you. 

The bus stops at your stop, you step off the bus looking both ways before crossing. 

Your head starts to spin 

You stumble 

Crossing to the other side, placing a hand on the side of the building catching your breath. You reach your apartment building, you walk through the lobby to the elevator. You press the up button with a trembling finger. The elevator opens to two boys, one with a blonde mullet another with black hair and braces. Their eyes widen at the sight of you, you step in leaning your body against the back of the elevator. 

"what number is your floor noona?" the boy with the braces says.

  "30" 

"that's what floor we are going to...are you ok?" the boy with the blonde hair asks. 

You to stay silent concentrating on your breathing. The boys whisper to each other

"floor 30" 

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