I don't know what to do any more, I write down in my journal.
Trace has made me so scared of men that I'm not sure I can trust them ever again.
Even at the supermarket I'm afraid of the cashier.
I wince as I turn my head. I forget about my injuries sometimes. My father twisted my head right into the lamp. Shii... I stop myself. My mother hears everything.
She is SUCH A HYPOCRITE! Telling me to stay strong in faith! Screw her. She sits on the couch WATCHING my father abuse me EVERYDAY!!!
Sigh.
"Okay, I'm done." I stand up and look out the window where I sit. The wind is blowing the leaves of the tallest oak tree next door to the apartment building my family inhabits. So beautiful. I just love outdoors. I would sleep in the oak every night if I didn't think Trace would find me.
I tear out the light blue paper from my journal and rip it into little tiny pieces. I grab my canvas from under my bed and plaster the papers onto the board. I paint over it with multiple shades of blue red and green. It's the only way I can get rid of my sorrow.
This may sound cliche but I cry myself to sleep each night trying to forget the day. And since I've started my "write-and-rip" routine I cry less and less.
I'm so tired after today. Trace locked me out of the house and I had to climb in the window. I guess he's started to soften up. "If only." I whisper.
I ease myself into my rock-hard air mattress and throw my blankets on top of me.
I turn my head and immediately regret it. "Oww!" I shout to no one in-particular. And then I'm out.
~
I jump up hearing my alarm going off. Why did I make it a police siren? After my dream last night, that scared the crap out of me. I dreamt that somehow Trace convinced me to punch mom in the throat then he commenced to call the police. "Piece of crap. That's all he'll ever be. And he enjoys it," I mumble under my breath.
"Crap!" I look over at the clock. It's 7:43a.m. Trace would kill me if I was late for school. Mostly because it's the only time he can get away from me, since he doesn't work.
I run to the kitchen after putting on my mint green Converse, black skinny jeans, and my FOB tank top. I pull on my black leather jacket and run out the door. Completely ignoring Trace yelling out, "If your late I'm going to beat your..." That's all I heard before I ran out the door.
~
I walk into the school building. To my left is the large brown brick principals office and the dining hall. "Ahhh, my last day of high school." Though I'm only seventeen, I'm graduating early. At KC Smith's Academy for A.D.H.D Students I'm one of the smartest students.
"Court!" My best friend Shawn shouts.
"Shawn!" I mimic back. Shawn doesn't know about Trace's "habits."
"Hey Court, why do you have this bruise?" My eyes immediately dart to the door. I don't want to have to tell him.
"Courtney? Courtney, are you okay?" I barely hear him speak. He's never noticed my bruises and bumps before. Why now?!?!?
"Um I um..." I can't think of and excuse.
"Oh is that where you fell out of the oak tree?" I forgot I told him about that.
"Oh, Yeah!" I finally say once my brain renders his sentence. He's no longer looking at me with concerned eyes. That's good.
"Come on Hun, it's time for Chem." I am so lucky that he didn't ask any further questions.
We walk up to Mr. Climmingtons class room; Room 109. He's my least favorite teacher. He is VERY monotone.
Just when he is about to hand us our homework my phone vibrates. I can't look at it now so I ask to go to the bathroom. He allows it.
I walk in to the freezing cold bathroom and look at the wall. There are notes all over. I trace the writing with my fingers following every curve perfectly. Then I take out my phone to read the message.
Mom;
Hun, I'm going on a short vacation. I can't handle it here right now.
I love you, but I'll see you soon. Bye. ;*
