Midnight's Promise

Chapter 3

'It's unbelievable how hot it is this morning' I think to myself as I wake up. It just seems like everything's against me every single day. I moan as a slither of sunlight sneaks in thought the window and with the power of three suns catches my barely open eyes. I check the little red numbers sitting on my bedside table, my alarm clock tells me I've hit the snooze button, since its 7:34 am. I sigh as I practically fall out of bed, my eyes take a quick glance to the window.

The idea that Hunter is sitting there this early, and in the daylight too, is next to impossible but I still have to look to check.

When I find the tree missing of any human life, roll my eyes telling myself "Told ya so," but there's a small part of me that feels so disappointed to an extent where in just want to crawl into bed and wait for the sun to set. I search through my closet and find long-sleeve sweater with a over-the-top picture of a sparkling unicorn, "No way am I wearing that, please tell me I didn't wear that when I was younger," I say to myself.

I dig deeper, bending slightly to move an overstuffed bear my dad got me for my birthday five years ago, back when he actually cared enough to play along with the 'father façade'. A sharp pain overtakes my right side, causing me to gasp for air. The pain sends my hand straight towards it, a natural reflex that only makes it worse. I double over, tender skin and muscle screaming out in pain and my eyes water as I gently lift my pyjama shirt higher. The large purple bruises aren't a new sight for me, and I mentally scold myself for not being more careful, they cover most of my right side, with a few rebel ones hanging out on the left.

I remove my pjs completely and stand in front of the mirror inspecting the damage. The bruises on my ribs attract my eyes first, then the red mark across my cheek that's fading slowly, my hair is a complete mess of tangled knots stuck to the dried tears on my face and last is the yellowy bruises around my wrist. It's not the worst I've had, there was a time when Paul had pulled a good handful of my hair out, leaving me to wear a hat until the pain had subsided so I could actually brush over the spot, all because I 'forgot' to vacuum.

That's when I learnt to stop questioning when he believed I forgot something.

I give up on watching myself in the mirror, my eyes darting to the window again. I sigh as I walk over to my closet, 'One conversation and I'm acting like a love struck puppy' I think to myself. I search for an outfit that covers my bruises and actually looks decent enough. I decide on a thin long-sleeve red sweater, a pair of faded blue jeans with holes at the knee and a black belt and quickly get dressed. I grab my hair brush, pulling it through my hair, causing my eyes to suddenly water when I brush over a giant knot in my hair, and I curse under my breath. I quickly finish with my hair by clipping in a fake glitter grey rose just above my ear, I apply some lipgloss really quickly and head for my bedroom door, grabbing my school bag on the way out.

The upstairs bedrooms are connected by the main hallway, leaving the staircase sitting directly in front of my room, which is smack bang in the middle. I slowly creak my door shut, Paul must be still sleeping off his hangover from last night, since he hasn't come crawling for my fake forgiveness. I tell myself to be quiet as I sneak down the staircase, hoping not to step on any creaking steps, I don't really feel like talking to Paul this morning. My goal is to sneak out of the house and head to school before he even thinks of waking up or is woken by my noise. Before I make a beeline for the door, I quickly grab an apple from the fruit bowl for breakfast, knowing there's no point in making lunch since I have my wallet in my bag, or at least I think I do.

Once I'm out in the fresh air of the early morning, I allow myself to take some deep breaths. Checking my watch, I head towards the bus stop, I have another five minutes before my 7:45 bus arrives to take me all the way to school. Which so happens to be my own personal hell. Most days I'm tempted to just ditch it, spend my days at the cinema or anywhere else that doesn't involve other students that believe they're somehow better than me. Yet the thought of Paul finding out stops me. It's not like he cares about my education or anything, it's just the power trip. What he says I do. No questions asked.