Broken

4:44 a.m.

She sat up quickly, gasping for breath looking at the clock, she saw the bright red vibrant numbers glaring back at her 4:44 a.m... Not again, she thought to herself, this was the fourth time this week she had woken up in the dead of night. That dreadful night just kept coming back to haunt her every night in her sleep. Deciding it would be pointless to try to go back to sleep, she got out of bed.

Shivering she dragged herself to the bathroom where she splashed icy cold water on her pale sweaty face. Looking into the mirror she could not recognize the girl that was looking back at her. The only things that stayed the same was her long chestnut brown almost black locks of hair, her icy blue eyes that were once so vibrant and filled with emotion now so dull and empty,and her big pink pouty lips that were chapped, cracked, and bleeding in every possible spot from the constant gnawing she did on them. She turned away from the mirror, not wanting to look at herself any longer.

Walking back to her room she pulled on a sweatshirt over her shirt and changed her sweats for black leggings. Silently creeping out of the house she started her jog at a medium pace, then going faster and faster until she was sprinting as fast as she could. As the building came into her view she began to slow down to a slow jog and eventually to a walk. By the time she reached the door she had already caught her breath.

Quickly sliding her card, she walked in, looking around and not seeing anyone else she released a breath that she was holding back. She was never a fan of others watching her, so the days she was alone were the ones she enjoyed the most. A sudden memory caught her off guard and forgetting to wrap her hands she walked up to the bag and starts to punch it. She could not see or hear anyone at that moment, a bomb could have gone off and she still would have no idea.

All she felt now was anger and pain, lots of pain. So, she did the only thing she knew how to do, she punched, hit, and kicked. It was her pale white skin hitting against the black leather of the punching bag. She did not realize how much time had gone by or how hard she had been hitting, but the anger started to die down and her sadness was being locked away somewhere at the back of her mind. She always felt emotional after having a nightmare about that day. Eventually she felt better, but right now she was lost in her own world not seeing, not hearing, not knowing about anyone or anything.

The first thing she realized when she came out of her daze was that her hands were all wet, and the next thing she realized when she looked down was that they were covered in blood.