Memoirs Of a survivor

63. Graduate

the songs got nothing to do with anything, it came on while i was writing :P

G xoxo

It was the day of my graduation and my father hadn't been home for 2 days. I knew I would see him at tonight's fight, but thankfully I hadn't seen him yet today it gave me time to pack, and get ready to leave. The actual ceremony didn't start until late morning, so today was the day I would get my final tattoos done. The ink covered big sections of my body, already, masking the imperfections where the scars lay, but there was one last one that needed to be covered. I stood in front of my mirror looking down at my body, as a small smile kissed the corner of my mouth. I ran my finger over one hip, tracing the outline of my most recent tattoo, and let my eyes glide up my body, ignoring the lean muscle that had formed over the years. It wasn't the pretty type of muscle that you gained from working out a lot, it was the type that fighters had, the mean looking slabs that knew how to take a person down in three hits. It was the ugly kind of muscle. My fingers smoothed over my body came to a stop all on their own when I looked at my hands in the mirror. I lifted them into my line of site, they were covered in little marks, a hazard of the trade when you are a fighter; they revealed my dark past in one glance. I forced a smile out, and began getting dressed ready for the first half of my appointment before graduation.

Mikey was waiting for me when I got to my appointment, the smell of incense already lingering around the shop as always. He smiled, excited about the coffee and cupcakes I had brought for him and Immy as a thank you gift. I sat down on the chair and looked at the final image, then at the final scars. I had mentioned earlier that I wanted this one to have a Frankenstein theme. I knew it was risky, but the scars were the ones I had from defending myself, the only ones I could be almost proud of. I wanted the tattoo to symbolize that no matter how bad things got, I could still patch myself up and move on I had written it in my notes somewhere, and Mikey must have seen it, I smiled at how he had actually read them, and looked closer. My final tattoo was going to be a reminder of my past, and a symbol of my strength. With that thought, looked down at my fists, the small scars that covered my hands from fighting in the ring, and held them out to Mikey, as he placed the stencils over the marks. I smiled and he began drawing the final details on in red ink, then relaxed as the comforting noise of the tattoo gun buzzed in my ears. Once one hand was done, he wrapped it in cling film, he had stopped a little early, so I could get changed for my graduation, and I shoved on the dress, spiked up my hair, and applied makeup, promising I would be back before I left to get the other hand done.

I had collected my gown, and was using its large folds to cover my wrapped hand so that people wouldn't see the brand new Frankenstein tattoo that now brandishes my left hand. I sat in my seat for graduation, watching everyone else talking amongst themselves, I was the only person there to support myself. People sat around me chatting excitedly while I remained calm, even when Aron sat next to me. I nodded acknowledgement to him, and ignored the sadistic smile plastered on his face. He didn't speak to me, just waited quietly for the service to begin.

I sat through, about an hour of mind numbingly boring chatter, just waiting for my certificate, so that I could leave again. I wasn't paying attention to the ceremony, but Aron nudged me towards the end of the ceremony, and drew my attention to the stage. Just as the principal said
"Now, I believe that Gemma has prepared a speech before we get our certificates" I watched carefully as she took the podium with a big smile on her face
"so as you all know it's time for our year to leave, and we know you will miss us dearly" she went on for a few more seconds chatting on and on, I wasn't really sure why Aron had drawn my attention to this, until Gemma said, "but I would like to share some memories with you all." With that the lights in the auditorium dimmed, and the screen flickered to life. Pictures and videos of people in our year smiling out at us came up as Gemma talked over the top, but then she said something that caught my attention "but some of us are damaged, pitiful, not worth the air we are breathing" as she said this, a picture of me flashed up. I had my hood up, but you could clearly see the bruise that had formed over my left temple, and my lip had been burst. The photo had been recent, and I was clearly spaced out, probably from a concussion. The image flicked to a video of me in my P.E kit, I looked a little worse for wear, and I hadn't realized that my father had made that much of a mess of my face. The swelling under my eyes couldn't be fixed with makeup, and the bruises couldn't be hidden. The footage kicked in, as I was getting angry.
"You think It's easy living like this, well it's not, its fucking not." I growled at him, causing him to flinch away and the camera to sway, I stepped back to, but carried on talking "You think I don't want it to be bearable when people touch me, i fucking hate it." I growled at him, causing him to flinch away, I stepped back to, but carried on talking "Do you think it was fucking nice listening as your dad decided on a price for my virginity, or have to defend yourself from him, but mostly accept the hits, because I need somewhere to live do you think it is fucking easy to come home to be hit every night by your father, only to then be sent to fight in the arena, to then be hit by FUCKING YOU at school! do you think I enjoy it when big tits and her friends make fun of me, do you think I fucking enjoy having to stitch myself up on a regular basis, does it look like I fucking enjoy it when I get to school having shared a moment of vulnerability with someone, only to find that they have told the biggest bitch in the world my one fear, I can't stand it when people touch my neck, because the bastard left fucking" I paused my eyes widened a little then shook my head before carrying on "look at me, does it look fucking fun to be ignored, and have to spend all my time alone, because no one here likes me. My mother upped and fucking left me with that monster. Alone. Now he says I look like her, and hits me for that too, does it look like I enjoy cleaning the wounds that my father inflicts on himself from beating me. He cut my fucking hair of because you grabbed it the first night we fought, that's just fan-fucking-tastic" the image paused, and no one moved, not even me. I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't leave, something white hot started burning inside me, but i fought it down. I just sat frozen in my seat, but it didn't stop there Gemma kept on going
"oh woe is me, I'm so lonely" she was sneering as more footage came up, this time it wasn't me on screen it was Logan,
"her dads shouting, I wonder what's happening" he was pale, and had blood smudged on his face, so I knew that it was the night he came to my house. The camera turned around, and my bedroom appeared on screen, and you could hear Logan whisper "I can't believe I got hit for this". He didn't open the door, he didn't need to. You could clearly hear what was being said on the other side since we hadn't moved away from it
"Yes father" my disembodied voice came, followed by a grunt of pain
"don't you fucking dare to keep me waiting, ever again"
"sorry, father," came my voice quickly
"why the fuck does my house look like a shit hole, you better fucking start pulling your weight around here, or I'm going to have to start selling you again, I'm sure Freddy would pay, though he wouldn't pay much for the likes of you" there was a pause then my father spoke again "You'd like that wouldn't you, you dirty bitch" then there was a grunt, and loud clattering as I was dragged down the stairs. The door opened, and Logan followed us, with the camera "...in the morning" was what he caught as he arrived. The camera jolted slightly when he hit me but as I recovered for the follow up with his fist. "Yes sir" I had my head bowed again as he shoved me forwards, causing me to trip and fall, hitting my face on the edge of the sink he swiftly followed that with more kicks, and stamped on me, then he began to walk away, and the footage got blurry as Logan scrambled up the stairs so he didn't get caught.