Fucking Detached

Nadine

You know that saying stick and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me? It's bullshit. Whoever made that little rhyme up is a liar, words hurt and I'd much rather get broken bones from sticks and stones. My mom is not a good person so when I arrive home late at night and see her sitting on the couch awake I prepare myself because I know this will not be a good encounter. 

"And where the hell do you think you've been Nadine?" I give her an evil glare, I mean you think she would at least get my name right. "I am talking to you!" She screams at me while throwing a wine glass, luckily I swerve it in time. 

"I was out mother, and my name is Nicky. Nadine is dead, she's been dead for six fucking years  and its your fucking fault!" I say back to her, angrily. Nadine was my older sister, she died when I was eleven, she was thirteen. Mom had taken a few pills that night, dad and her were fighting and she got in the car, Nadine ran out of the house after her when mom sped off. Then another car came speeding around the corner and down the road hitting Nadine, they hit my sister. She suffered in a coma for three days before finally passing away. Dad left after that, moms drug problem got worse, I suppose in some ways it's unfair to blame my mom for Nadines death. I mean I know she didn't hit her but Nadine wouldn't have been in the middle of the road that late at night if it weren't for her leaving and her stupid fucking pills. My statement pissed her off tho, she started throwing things at me, anything she could find; cups, bottles, books, anything. I started to run to my room but she grabbed my leg pulling me down the few steps I made it up, and began hitting me screaming in my face. 

"That was not my fault you little shit!" She screamed spitting in my face with her words. Blood started running down my face coming from my nose, I was aware that in the morning I'd have a black eye and more. I smacked her back in an effort to get her off of me but she responded with her two hands grasping around my throat. I scratched at her face trying my hardest for her to release me but she wasn't budging. That is until I saw a bottle come crashing down on her head making her fall over, blacking out right next to me on the floor. Through watery eyes I make out that the figure who helped me was Griff, who then picks me up taking me out of the house and into his, resting me on his bed. 

"I'm not even gonna ask you if you're okay because you're clearly not, but here's some water your throat is gonna be sore as hell and tender. I am so sorry Nicky." He tells me handing me a glass of cold water.

"It's okay, I'm used to her shit." I barely make out with the raspiness of my voice. He then brings a wet washcloth and starts wiping the blood from my wounds.  

"Don't talk too much babe, it'll make it hurt more." He informs me laying beside me and letting me rest my head on his chest. I honestly don't know where I would be without him, who I would be without him. He kisses me on my forehead as I drift to sleep trying to forget what the night brought. 

When I wake up in the morning Griff is still asleep, I head over to the bathroom attached to his bedroom and stop when I see myself in the mirror. A bruise of a hand had imprinted on my neck covering over any hickies I had previously had, as well as a black eye, crusted blood in my nostril and a gash down my eyebrow. She fucked me up pretty badly, I stare off into the mirror not realizing griff had made his way over to me. He turned on the shower and placed a towel on the counter.

"Why don't you get a shower, I'll go over to your house and grab you a change of underwear and shorts, you can wear one of my hoodies today." 

"Thank you." I shift my eyesight from my reflection over to his eyes. He saved me, if he weren't there I don't know when she would have stopped, if she would have stopped. I mean she managed to kill her firstborn, why not the other? I stand on my tippy toes placing a gentle kiss on Griff's lips before getting in the shower. After I'm done cleansing last night's memories off my body I change into the clothes he brought me. I pair of black shorts with his favorite army green hoodie, that slightly covers the marks on my neck making them a little less visible.