School that day was boring as per usual; I hadn't brought my gym kit with me, because I won't be able to do any exercise for a while with a broken arm, no one could see my arm since I had disguised it with my jumper that hung baggily over it. The teachers didn't believe that it was injured since I had a cast that was not a hospital issued one and I didn't have a doctor's note to prove it. In the end I just had to do everything one handed. It took forever, so I spent the time idly day dreaming about nothing in particular as I organised.
The slow sluggish day finally ended and I could leave this hellhole. As I got to the gate, I could hear people laughing, and having a good time, repressing the growl that threatened to burst from my throat I pushed through the crowd, but I could feel someone's eyes on the back of my head following me down the path. I turned around and caught Aron watching my every move, trying to catch my eye as I looked up 'well he can fuck off, he's been avoiding me all day, what makes him think I want to speak to him now anyways' I thought to myself, as I set of walking to the gym to tell them I wouldn't be there for a while.
As I walked, I thought over the day, Aron had been avoiding me, not that I was making any attempt to find him, but every time he would notice me, he has turned and walked in the other direction with a guilty look on his face. I don't know why, but it was starting to bother me. Other times I would feel someone looking at me, and I would turn to find him scowling at me. I had no idea why he was doing that either, but I couldn't be bothered to question him about it.
I got home later that night not expecting to see my father, but to my surprise, he was home, and in the kitchen looking into the fridge, as I walked in, he turned and froze, letting out a sigh of relief "oh thank god, you came home"
"err yes, I have nowhere else to go" he looked over me, eying the arm that I was clutching to myself "what's wrong with your arm" he demanded. I frowned, and looked over to where it happened, then tried to phrase it in a way that didn't earn me another beating. Before I could figure out what to say, my mouth spoke, in a very cold calm tone.
"You broke it, yesterday" I pulled up my sleeve to show him my makeshift cast. He flinched back slightly at my tone, but his expression never changed.
"Well rest up, the season has been postponed" he left me stood in the kitchen as he walked away with a glass bottle in his hands 'well that's just great, he forgot he had broken my fucking arm, and he's home getting drunk already' I grumbled as I went upstairs to avoid him. I sat in my room reading my book for hours before I got bored, and my arm started throbbing, so I took more painkillers, and went to the freezer for ice to put on it.
I moved quietly, to the freezer, opening it, I grabbed a zip lock bag and partially filled it with ice, then I sealed it, and wrapped it in a towel, heading back upstairs, but I didn't make it to the bottom step. My dad pulled me back by my shoulder making me drop the ice as he grabbed my hair, dragging me to the liquor cupboard, pulling me so that I stood up straight,
"what the fuck have you done with my whiskey" he shouted, but I hadn't done anything with it,
"it's still in the cupboard," I replied feigning calmness, he replied by pushing me forwards,
"well then you fucking find it then bitch" immediately I began rummaging through the cupboard, trying to find the drink so he didn't hit me. I found It after a moments searching, and handed it to him, not daring to look into his eyes, he immediately unscrewed the top, and drank what remained in the bottle, then looked at me using his free hand to tilt my chin up
"you look like your mother you know" he said softly to me, still holding my chin I smiled slightly, but then his face changed causing me to pale, "that bitch left me" he growled as he lifted his hand and hit me in the face with the bottle, then took his hand back again catching it on a cupboard causing it to crack but not smash, but on impact with me it shattered, showering us in glass. Fortunately, I had seen it coming, and moved my face but not far enough that I got my whole body out of the way.
My attention was drawn by the sound of my father crying, he had collapsed onto the floor cradling his hand in his lap, and crying, I don't know what made me do it, but I crouched, taking a towel with me, I wiped his hand, getting the glass that I could off it, then fetched the first aid kit, I cleaned the wounds on his hands, and pulled out any glass that I could. My dad cried the whole time, I poured the cleaning fluid onto his hand and he hissed through his teeth and I pushed some paper towels into his palm and made him make a fist. Finally I bandaged his hand and put him to bed. That was the first time my father ever said sorry to me, as I lay him down in bed. He stroked my face and apologised to me
"Scarlett, you're beautiful, I'm sorry" came his half assed attempt at an apology, but I didn't care for it. I couldn't stand his touch, so I shook him and his apology off, and pulled the blankets over him, leaving the room.
I didn't want to think, so I just cleaned up, methodically clearing away the broken glass and the blood. As I got to the bottom of the stairs again I remembered my ice pack, luckily, it hadn't been too long since I had dropped it, and it was still somewhat ice. I held it to my face where my dad had hit me the first time, then to my arm once my face was too cold. Trapesing up to the bathroom to sort out the cuts and scratches that I had on me, I don't know how I hadn't noticed, but there were two large shards of glass poking out of me, one out of my chest, and the other out of my abdomen. The one on my chest had stopped bleeding, and wasn't too deep when I pulled it out. However the one on my abdomen bled everywhere after I pulled the glass. I pressed a towel to it, and lay down on my bed with pillows pushed under my hips, so that it was heled above my heart, when the bleeding finally stopped, I cleaned the wound, and got in the shower to wash off the day. When I got out I applied plasters to the two cuts, and went to bed, not even bothering to put on any pyjamas, I was exhausted, but one thought had remained in my head 'he said sorry?'
YOU ARE READING
Memoirs Of a survivor
Action"You're an animal, you're a dog, you will always be a dog, and there's nothing you can do to change that" "You will do as you're told" "Come here and clean this up" All comments that had been shouted at Scarlett Fletcher. Her school life is bad, a...
