Haru Haru

Bottle ~ Part 13

Thankfully no one was home when Justin dropped me off after being at his house. Mr. Sevol was actually not even back home until Monday when I came home from school. Unfortunately I should have taken more advantage of the break while I had it. He came home angry every day that week, again Thursday apparently being a bad day was the worst day for me. I didn't even wake up after everything until Friday around noon. The last thing I remember was him busting into my room when he came home drunk around 10 the night before.

I decided to skip the rest of the school day, Justin had texted me letting me know their game had gotten rained out and checking in to see where I was at. We messaged back and forth all day I made up some excuse about being sick the night before. Being able to talk to him helped with the feeling so alone at times like this. I felt bad because I don't feel like I make a very good friend. But apparently for some reason he is ok with me for a lame friend, so I just go with it.

The next couple of weeks are roughly the same thing, I get beat, go to school, make up some excuse why I can't make it to his game. For some reason I agree to sit with all the guys at lunch and am becoming more comfortable around them. I may even refer to them as friends, much to their delight. Mrs. Sevol came home on Tuesday after I was 'sick' so I was slightly safer. Only having to deal with him a couple of times by the time Saturday hit. Somehow though saturday morning no one was home amazingly enough so I was able to go out with Justin and knock another one of the bakeries off of our list. I stayed at his house again Saturday night and he had taken me home today after we had a comfortable day relaxing, he even taught me a little on his guitar. That was where my luck ended.

Walking into the house it was around 2 in the afternoon, I wasn't prepared to see anyone, but there was Mr. Sevol waiting for me sat on the couch beer bottle in hand. The way his eyes pierced into me, I was scared and he hadn't even moved.

"Where have you been whore? We let you stay here and this is what you do? Just go out and do whatever you want!" He screams standing up and stumbling over to where he stood in front of me. His empty hand grabbed my shoulder roughly and shook me hard, throwing me off balance. Righting myself in front of him I could smell the alcohol that seamed to permeate all of him right now. How drunk was he?

I don't dare move a muscle. I stand perfectly still, braced, waiting for the blows to start. He lands a couple of blows to my side that were so hard they made me double over. Next thing I know he is breaking the beer bottle over my head, the glass raining down over me, I am sure getting caught in my hair. I shoot up straight throwing my hands up in front of my face trying to protect my head from the blows to come . The bottle hitting my head hurt more than I remember from previous experiences. I brace for another punch or even a kick. However I wasn't prepared for him to try and hit me with the now broken bottle again. He was so drunk I am guessing he didn't realize it was broken.

He takes another swing at me but I don't feel the normal blow, caught off guard by the lack of an impact. He goes to make another movement, but looses his balance. Falling back onto the floor with a thud and is out. I freak out, bending down to check on him, breathing out a sigh of relief when I realize he is just knocked out. But then confused when I see the blood dripping off of my hand.

I make my way to my room grabbing a change of clothes heading to the bathroom for shower to get the glass and spilled beer off of me. I wasn't super concerned with the blood yet, well that was until I took off my shirt. Looking at my right forearm all I see is red. I brush it off just knowing that wounds sometimes bleed more than others and go through my shower hissing as the water runs down my arm. I wash through my hair probably 3 times to get all the broken glass out of it, glad to find no wounds on my head just a good lump. Getting out of the shower I dry and get dressed, grabbing out my stash of first aid stuff I have preparing to clean up my arm that is starting to make itself known.