Binding

Chapter 1

The trees hang high above me, the leaves making the light of a late July sun dance on my face as I was walking away from him. The dirt path that I know like the back of my hand staining my white converses. I can't believe he said that, knowing what I went through.
"Nova," he called, "Please, Nova, I didn't mean it that way."
I could tell he was close so I broke into a sprint, then a run; I could feel the stinging of tears in my eyes and I had to stop and catch my breath. He was beside me now, his hands reaching up to my face, but I turned away from his careful touch.
"Don't touch me." I simply say
"Nova, I didn't mean it that way, you know that."
I look up at him, the hurt in his eyes visible now, there was no stopping the tears from cascading down my face.
"Luke, don't just leave me alone" but I knew he wouldn't.
He promised he wouldn't bring it up and yet he did.

6 months before...
"Nova, you whore" Agustus yelled.
"I don't know what your talking about, listen to yourself, you sound crazy."
I pleaded for him to calm down, knowing if he did not that I would have to explain yet another bruise to Luna, my best friend since kindergarten.
"God, I could do so much better than you. I could have any girl I want, but I chose you and you're fat, ugly, and a slut." He raised his fist and it impacted with my face that was now stained with tears.
"I am going to go now." I said, knowing if I showed a hint of pain he would hit me again, only harder.
"No, you will go when I say you can!" His foot hit me in the ribs several times; he stopped and said, "You brought this on yourself. Go, I hope you cut yourself, I hope you die tonight."
His words were all to familiar. I get up as he sat on his bed and I walked out of the room, down the steps, and ran the short distance to my house that i shared with an alcoholic dad. My dad did not use to be that way, but when my mom died he was never the same and he started drinking. Now he could care less if I were dead or alive. She died when I was 15, I lost the only person who cared about me. She was diagnosed with stage 4, neurological cancer; they gave her 3 months to live, but she lasted another year and a half.
Now in the safety of my room, I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, exhaustion coming over me, almost making me forget the throbbing pain of my ribs. I look in the mirror, my green eyes red and puffy, my light blonde hair a windblown mess, the freckles that spotted my light, tear-stained face stand out and I notice how much I resemble her. I finish in the bathroom, not caring that I still had the clothes I wore today on I flop on my bed and fall asleep almost instantly.