Fighting Darkness

Chapter One

****Paige****
Perfect. Just perfect. Another rainstorm that always floods the front yard of the apartment complex. It hits the bathroom window with loud thumps as it lands.

Derek, my current boyfriend, will probably get mad, because he thinks everything's my fault. The bruises he left on my arms from Friday nights drunken battle show no sign of wanting to cover up.

"You cheated!" Derek's deep voice boomed in the den that was covered in a dull yellow paint with my desk, placed in the corner. I used it for any bill we need to pay. His arm swam across the mahogany, fishing my previous paperwork into the stained wooden floor. "I didn't! I promise!" My convincing that night had no effect. Now low and behold my arm is splattered in bruises not even make up will cover up. Derek went out to clear his mind with God knows who. He came back at four in the morning and left at seven. Now I'm here in the little café, wearing a sweater that covers my arms.

Sapphire called me up asking me to come to the local coffee shop. Sitting in the bar seat, looking at the view of the cars run by. My attention follows the young boy gripping onto his mothers hand as they cross the street. A little smile plays on my lips; it quickly drops as I hear Sapphire's annoying sound, called her voice.
"You forced yourself into this." Her Hollister tank top came low showing too much. But not that she cared. She had a models body, with a height of 5'7, stunning hazel eyes with ginger hair. Plus she had the ugly personality most of them had. Her name came from a birthstone. My birthstone. Sapphire. Such a beautiful gem but the names been shattered by the girl who sleeps around with the guy next in line. Derek was with her before. She used him for the popularity. But in my opinion being known as the class whore, isn't a good title.

"I didn't force myself into anything. I didn't know he would be like this." The plain black sweater I wore seemed to tighten with every word I breathe out. My brown hair falls right to my mid back, bangs to my shoulders and naturally straight. Chocolate eyes that look golden when I cry and gleam when I smile. Only one dimple on the right side and pale skin. My height never changed. I've been this tall since 8th grade. 5"4. I've never had a reputation. People always asked me to do their homework or give them answers on a test. I'm a goody goody.

"Well he probably was damaged since I left him. But.." Sapphire flipped her gorgeous locks out off her shoulder. She rolled her eyes before pursing her lips into a straight line. The red lipstick she wears to look like Taylor Swift is slowly fading off onto her waters straw. "Models don't eat carbs or drink soda. They do it to be skinny. Maybe you should try it." Remembering that sentence she told me years ago, I push my coke to the side and cross my arms over my chest. "But," she continues, "I won't give you pity. You always try to be like me, so you deserve this." I deserve this? I deserve having my boyfriend hit me everyday while she sleeps around with some guys? I always ask myself why I stay with such a cruel person. It's not like I have no one else, but I've been there for her. When her mom died I was the only one that was there for her. I don't stay because I need her, I stay because she needs me.

"Well, I better leave. Derek wants me home early." I get up from my seat, unwrinkling my denim shorts. My black TOMS have a smudge of dirt on them while her black heels are laced with the new box smell. The café sign was half lit showing the time to be 10:30pm, as I drove through the dim city light. Derek is home. It's Saturday, he's always home on Saturday. Some girl is probably in our bed. He's done this time in and time out. My hands grip the steering wheel harder, making my knuckles turn white and red. I know I'm not suppose to care, but even if your forced to date him, you still have that rage of jealousy going through you. The feeling that you want the love he gives other girls, but then again, it's nothing. It's a one nighter, he won't remember her name, number, hair color, face, but he will remember what he did last night and yell at me for not giving it to him.

The rain starts to lighten up. Only leaving the ones left on the windshield there to dry. Two blocks away from the River Fort Street Apartments, I have an urge to leave. Just drive away, not even worry about my stuff. The black Pontiac Grand Prix steadily rolls into the front. Our window has a direct view of who's coming in and who's coming out. My hand goes to the key in the ignition, but I'm not pulling them out, or putting it in park. My foot rest on the brake as I stare down the white building with two large red doors up front. Even though its summer time, all the flowers are slowly wilting. My foot slowly lets off the brake and I move forward, I'm leaving for the night, it's worth the beating in the morning. If I come back in the morning.