Vigilante Yoru

Chapter 3

(Author's note: Hello Lovelies! I am finally posting another chapter here! YAY! Although, I am not sure if it will stay the same as it is now if that makes sense. I was very tired when I wrote this last night and I also reread it too, but I am not sure I am comfortable with how it is now. I may end up editing it in the future. Since this book has barely any reads, I already have been editing the book here and there with small things. Nothing that will change the story at all thankfully, but if I make any of those changes, I will notify you in the next chapter or I will make a whole chapter just letting you know what I have changed. I won't keep that chapter for long, I don't want to interrupt the flow of the story. And I know almost no one reads these anyways lol. I don't mind though. 

Anyways... I am planning on updating all of my stories eventually throughout the next week. I want to have fun writing, but working on deadlines and dedicating myself to finishing stories will help me in the long run!

Overall, I am posting more in my other stories soon and I might edit this one shortly after posting it! If I do, I will notify you through my account in a conversation post! If you want the notification, give me a follow! Or check out the book later on! I will make a note here in another author's note! And good news! Plans for this story are going amazing! I don't have it finished and I have only worked on chapters as I can post them, but plans are going great nonetheless! Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter! Have fun! And comment if you find something wrong or odd! It will help my editing!)

My breathing was heavy as I finally allowed myself to collapse, falling onto the floor of my bedroom. I winced at the pain in my body, tonight had not been good to me, to say the least. From the stab wound on my hip to being cornered by Eraser and leading him to a rescue scene. The light from the day barely began to illuminate my room by the time I was able to move after I had settled my breathing. Struggling to stand up, I made my way over to my bathroom connected to my room. I thank my dead mother for choosing a house that had connected bathrooms. I did not want to see my father at the moment and risk more injuries or bleeding to death. The bathroom was a small half-bath with just a sink, mirror, and toilet. After stumbling in and scrambling for the first aid kit in the cupboard under the sink, I found myself standing barely steady, sifting through the supplies. After collecting what I needed, I groaned knowing that I would have to take off my clothes to get to the wounds. Lifting the hoodie and undershirt at the same time, I realized that they would have to be tossed or stitched up before I could use them again. They were barely hanging on by a thread in the midsection. I had not realized that I had gotten so injured tonight, either my luck was just that bad or I was losing touch with my skills. Furrowing my eyebrows in frustration at the thought, I looked in the mirror to see the damage. The stab wound on my left hip had one broken stitch. But that was not my most concerning wound at the moment. I now knew why my stomach was so warm. Across my right side towards my navel was a long, semi-deep gash. I rolled my eyes at the inconvenience of more stitches and quickly got to work. Thankfully I had no other injuries besides the ones I had previously.

As I was working on cleaning the wounds I began to realize that this wound not be easy to hide, let alone keep safe from my father. If his kicks even went in the direction of the wound, I do not think I would survive to the next day. I would just have to hope that he will get too drunk or high to put any power behind his hits.

It did not take long to get everything taken care of as I soon finished up all the stitches needed, covering my stomach in work. I pulled out my phone to check the time and swore. I was going to be late. I struggled to put my work clothes on over my wounds, barely remembering to put my gear into my closet at least to keep it out of sight. Reaching my bedroom door, I slowed for a moment. I knew if I rushed out the door, he would attack and I would be even more late than I already was. Instead of running down the stairs and out the door like I wanted, I tip-toed. I was grateful to hear the silence in the house, but it had me at a loss. Normally I could at least hear a TV or his snoring. Arriving in the kitchen, I planned to walk out the door before I pushed my luck, but a note on the counter stopped me. A yellow piece of paper looked like a ripped-up bill that he had not cared enough to keep intact to pay. I looked at it in curiosity, he never leaves notes unless it's urgent. I did not want to miss the message and end up being welcomed with a beating when I got home. So I risked being later to read the sloppy letters on the paper. A small smile graced my lips. He was gone for the next few days. Off on some trip out with his bad habit buddies more than likely, but he was gone nonetheless. I had freedom for the foreseeable future. He normally extends past the days he states in his notes. Sadly, he did mention that we have some overdue bills, but that is nothing new. I was too grateful that I would be free from his wrath for a few days. So I went to work with almost a skip in my step.