Stereotypes

four.

Elle's POV
After I saw the disgusted and horrified look on his face after he saw my arms, I ran. I ran to my next class, which was biology. The only problem? I couldn't concentrate on whatever Mrs. Robbins was teaching, because in my mind, my world fell apart 20 minutes ago.

He had seen the scars. He had looked at the part of my body that I can't even look at. I still remember the day my father did that to me...
It was late September. I walked in the door, foolishly stumbling over my boots, making my father aware of my presence. He walked to where I was standing with a horrible look in his eyes. "You know," he said. "I was at the grocery store today." "Umm... Okay?" I replied. He slapped me across the face. Hard. "Don't interrupt," he growled at me. So I stood there, silent. "Anyway, I was at the grocery store today," he continued. "Buying some cigarettes and vodka. And then our new neighbour commented on the bruise she had seen on your cheek. I told her that you had fell, being as clumsy as you are." I knew this was coming. I was running late the other day and I didn't have time to put on concealer.
My father grabbed my hair and shoved me forward onto the floor. He kicked me in the ribs before going to the kitchen and grabbing a rusty knife. "Stand up, you pathetic being," he said to me. I stood up. "Hold out your arm." I knew this was coming. Whenever I make trouble for him, he abandons bruising me and takes out a knife. I close my eyes as the cool blade slices my inner forearm multiple times. I am screaming in my head because there is nothing I can do about it.

I won't give you the gory details, but let's say he left me battered and bruised and bleeding in a closet once he was done with me.

"Elle?" The teacher snapped her fingers in front of my face, making me flinch. "Are you even paying attention?" She asked me. "Yes," I stated. "Then what was the last question I just asked Christine over here?" Christine looked at me sheepishly. I flipped back through the pages in my brain. I had a photographic memory, so of course I knew the answer. "You asked her what the four stages of the Kerbbs cycle were," I stated. (Guys, I actually do not know if there is a real thing as the Kerbbs cycle and if there are four stages, because I ,like Elle, do not pay attention in biology. Carry on.)
"Very good," Mrs. Robbins said, before she went back to teaching her lesson.

To think about it, Christine looked familiar. Maybe she had a sibling or something that I know?
I leaned over across the aisle to whisper to her. "Hey," I whispered. Christine turned around. "Do you have a brother of sister?" I asked her. She leaned back to me and whispered "Yeah. I have a brother and his name is Sean. He's in this class," she said, pointing across the room. Holy shit. It was the same Sean from this morning. And he was staring at me. Sean was in this class?

Shit.