Skinny Love

Five.

Who else here is Muke af (except for you, Porsh, if you're reading this)

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"Leave me alone!" I shriek, as Eric practically throws me against a wall.

"Oops, I'm sorry what was that? I didn't hear you," he taunts me, as his friends laugh.

"Well then, fucking get your ears checked, bastard! I said, leave me alone!"

His eyes darken. "What the fuck did you just call me, bitch?" He then proceeds to punch my eye. Hard. "That'll teach you to never speak to me like that, slut." He then walks away with his friends.

I slide down the wall, clutching my eye. It hurts so bad. I'm pretty sure it's bruised. I think my arm's broken. I pull my knees to my chest, hugging them tightly with my non-broken arm, as sobs take over me. I feel my lip stinging as the tears roll down my cheeks and reach my lips, and bring my fingers up to touch it. It's bleeding.

"Shit," I curse, as I run to the washroom, cradling my broken arm.

I splash the water on my face, trying to wash away the blood on my lip. I look up at the mirror and see myself. My eye is swollen and purple. I'm a mess.

"Oh God," I lean over the basin, and cry. I cry like I've never cried before.

After I've run out of tears, I wash my face again and call Dad up.

"Hey, sweetie, what's up?"

"Dad, could you, uh, pick me up?"

"What? Why? What's wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?"

"It's nothing, just, please pick me up, I'll explain later."

"I'll be there in a few."

X

"Hey, Dad," I say, opening the car door and sitting down.

He stares at me,"What in God's name happened to you? Are you alright?"

I sigh, "I'm fine, Dad. I'm really hungry, can we just please go to a Burger King? I'm in the mood for a burger."

"Okay, but in return, you have to promise me that you'll tell me what exactly happened to you. Okay?"

"Never mind. I'm not hungry anymore."

"Sierra. Please."

I exhale. "Fine."

We drive to the nearest Burger King where Dad orders a hamburger for me in the drive thru. As I eat the burger and he drives, he asks me, "So. Are you going to tell me what happened, or?"

I puff out my cheeks and sigh, thinking of a lie. "I, uh. I fell down the stairs and, um, broke my left arm. I also bruised my eye while at it."

He looks at me with wide eyes, "You broke your arm? Damn it, Sierra, why didn't you tell me? What are we doing here buying a burger? We need to get you to, like, a hospital, ASAP!"

I sigh. Thank God he fell for it. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you'd get worked up about it."

"Of course I'm worked up about it! I'm your father, Sierra. And how in the world did you manage to fall down the stairs?"

"I tripped on my feet."

He lets out a breath. "Sierra, please. You need to be more careful, okay? I've never heard of anyone your age tripping over their own feet, Jesus."