Crushed

Pain and Salvation

Maybelle; Chapter 1

My salvation, my safe place has always been floating around in darkness, trapped between life and death, unconscious. Why, one would ask? Because of one word, 'pain'. Safety from pain, safety from my father is all I ask from the unknown forces above or below. And, as I fall into the blissful, welcoming darkness once more, I think Why does it have to be me? I just don't understand, why.......
The next morning leaves me drowsy, and covered in bruises from last night's beating. My alarm continues to ring as I try to find the energy to get up and prepare for school. When I gather enough energy to turn my head to glance at the time, I gasp and jump out of bed sending pain shooting throughout my body. It was already 8:45 which meant that I had 15 minutes to take a shower, get dressed, eat, pack up, and rush to the bus stop at 9 o'clock. I kept into action undressing as fast as I could. When I sprang into the shower I immediately turned the water on while scrubbing my body with soap to get rid of the grit still stuck to me from him kicking me and yelling at me in a drunken rage as he did almost every night.

After taking the fastest shower I had ever had, I picked up my usual outfit of a grayish-white turtleneck and black leggings. Pulling my shirt over my head I collected my homework and textbooks from my desk and rushed downstairs. I stuffed everything into my back pack and picked up the comb that I placed so conveniently on the counter for emergencies like this. Yanking it through my damp hair and dug into the pantry finding a few granola bars that would substitute for my breakfast today, shoved them into my backpack, pulled on my worn socks and sneakers, and rushed out the door towards the bus stop. I had arrived perfectly at 9 and there was still nobody in sight, but I was on time, for me. I took a few minutes to catch my breath as the first of the other students at my bus stop started to arrive. I stepped aside to sink at the foot of the tree nearby and patiently wait for the bus to arrive, which was around 9:07. About 2 minutes after everyone arrived and started chatting, the bus pulled up along the curb and honked twice interrupting the couple making out against the very tree I had been leaning on as well as the small cluster of people chatting quietly. I pushed myself off the ground and got in the line to get on.

Once everyone had gotten inside the bus, the driver pulled off immediately and since the rest of us were used to thus treatment, we dropped into the nearest seat to our liking. I ended up, thankfully, in an empty seat about three rows from the front. Along the route to school, I ended up dozing off. I was woken up eventually, by a freshman falling into the seat I was in, literally crushing me against the window, and activating the once dormant injuries I had. He apologized profusely repeating the phrase "I'm so, so sorry!!" over and over again until I got annoyed and glared at him which immediately shut him up.
On the duration of the rest of the ride, which was only a few minutes, I stared out the window gazing at houses and internally rating each outdoor decoration with a scale from 1 to 5, while noting that the freshman boy was staring at me, boring holes into my back with his intense stare.

When I saw the ground beginning to flatten out and have big soccer goals spread out among the plain, I knew that we were beginning to arrive towards Brookdale High School, the place of immense torture although not being as bad as home.