Everything hurts.
Everything's in pain.
Everything is bruising.
I haven't slept all night, crying my eyes out from pain and hurt feelings.
I have bruises on my neck, my legs, my ribs, my arms. I don't have enough makeup to cover up all these bruises.
Especially from Kingston.
I'm not mad at him for yelling, I understand why he got upset. He probably doesn't want me to be his tutor anymore, thinking I don't want to be seen with him.
I've been sitting in my bay window crying, my eyes hurt, my cheeks stained with tears. My knees have been tucked into my chest for so long that my muscles are stiff and aching.
I refuse to change out of Kingston's clothes. They're to comfy. Smelling him makes me think he's still here, his arms around me, protecting me.
I can feel the bruises forming.
Kingston...
God I miss him.
He wouldn't have let this happen if he knew. You have to tell him.
I can't tell him. I can't.
Why? We're getting abused, and we can barely stand without getting dizzy. He needs to know. He can help us.
I don't want him to freak out and yell at me for keeping it from him.
I've been staring at my phone for hours, debating whether to call him, get him to come get me, listen to his explanation on why he yelled, curl up with him under the covers at his house, and fall asleep with him close to me, around me.
The moons been hidden by clouds, the stars barely visible anymore. The wind has been blowing viciously against the house, making it shake and creak with each gust.
I heard Kingston speed off as my dad pinned me to the door, hitting me repeatedly. I can't cry. I can't fight back. That only makes it worse. Trying to run is useless, he'll always get to me no matter what I do.
Nothing can stop my dad when he's drunk.
I stayed silent as I took blow after blow, screaming after punches. He always tells me how I ruined his life, making sure I know that I'm the reason mom left him, I'm the reason he became an alcoholic, I'm the reason he abuses me, I'm the reason I have no friends.
After he passed out on the couch, I ran up to my room, closed the door and locked it. And then I broke.
I cried.
And cried.
And cried.
For hours.
I can't escape this.So I've sat in my bay window, staring at the run down cars as they drive by, tears running uncontrollably down my face as my entire body burns with a fiery pain.
When the alarm on my phone goes of I let out a choked sob.
No. I don't want to go to school.
I reach for my phone, my arm screaming in pain at the small movement. Typing my passcode into my phone I swipe up and pull up my contacts.
I press on Mark's icon and call him, raising my hand to my ear listening as the phone rings.
"C'mon...c'mon..." I mutter to myself as it kept ringing.
"Hey what's up Kitty?" Mark's voice asks through the phone.
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YOU ARE READING
Wanting What I Shouldn't
RomanceAmara Brady, the schools nerd, her name unknown to any normal persons ears. Straight A's and perfect homework, but what if it's just a coverup? Outside of school Amara faces her abusive parents at different homes and a life of street fighting. Sh...