Cuts and Bruises

Home

Peter's P.O.V

I was excited that I may see Brooklyn soon, but I didn't want to give my hopes up. Lucas seemed like he was here with somebody. He had to be. Whether it be one of the girls or one of the guys, he wasn't alone. I couldn't help but miss everyone. Why hadn't they visited? Was my uncle even aware of me being here?

Lucas left the room. After twenty minutes I knew he wasn't coming back. At least not today. I still couldn't shake off that feeling of being hugged. It reminded me of my dad when he was still around. Seven years ago when I was eight, my father left my mom and I. I felt like I knew it would happen but I was still dumb founded when he never came home. Not a divorce, just gone. One night I had stayed up too late after moving to a different town. Glancing out the window, I saw him. That was the night my mom was hit.

The only person that would take me in was my uncle. My uncle Daniel. He wasn't much of a talker and didn't pay me a whole lot of attention. After many beatings by Sasha or some kid at school, he still hadn't noticed. I wish he would help me, but I felt stupid for getting bullied. What if they were just messing around? They have more of a future then me so why bother telling.

I hadn't made eye contact with anyone at my uncle's work. My uncle would just send me on trips to the vending machine or the food stand he was in the mood for. If he was feeling generous he would give me money to get myself something. I felt like I needed a job but my uncle didn't and wouldn't help me find one. He said a job permit was irrelevant and I didn't need one. I couldn't get a job no matter what I tried without one.

About a few weeks ago at his work, I had spotted out Brooklyn. She looked at me for longer then I expected. Not even my uncle looked at me in the way she did. Kind and curious. Just to make sure she was looking at me, I waved. I would have been embarrassed if she didn't wave back, but that hadn't happened. She waved and I just had to meet up with her. My uncle was busy setting up some equipment before I left, so my absence was minor. Once I went home with the group I began to worry. My uncle will either ignore the fact that I am missing or punish me when I get back.

Last thing I remember on the couch was papers that he filled out to get me into school. It will be better then wandering around the stage and doing tasks for him. At least I get an education at a school. Worst part was, Sasha went to the school. She came to my uncle's work every day. I was lucky if she missed just one day. She always found me. I tried to stay close to my uncle when they came around but she would just play as a friend and drag me away.

Something about Brooklyn made me want her protection. Anyone's really. I was only thirteen when all this Sasha drama started. Even her name sounds dramatic.

I wanted so badly to go home. As of the moment, I am unsure what to even call home. Home is where someone loving takes care of you. Or a place where you want to be. Not just a place to live. That's a house in my case. Home means so much more.

I had planned on moving out at sixteen or at least once I started highschool. It all depended on whether or not these things continued. There still is a slim chance I stay with my uncle but there is more of a chance I flee. If after all of this I still need therapy I may just go to the school for it. They have councilors there.

There is few amounts of time until the summer. I wouldn't be able to say an exact number. I've lost track. The only way I may know is from Jack or Brooklyn. If she kept track. Jack is my best bet right now. Even Lucas. I know Lucas is there for me. He made that known. He may just be that person that pulls me through. I stood up and started walking in multile circles. I couldn't stay still, not for too long. I stumbled over to the door, my head spinning. I waited, although I wasn't sure what for. I hadn't expected to be left alone like this if they thought I was crazy.

I had been called crazy by my uncle before. He would have to remind me that my mom wasn't coming back. Neither was my dad. I had a bag packed for the longest time. That bag was the one I had brought over when I first moved in. It's still packed. I don't know what I'm waiting for.

One thing I do know is I want to go home. Badly. I want to be with my mom and dad. I want to be with them just as I was many years ago. I want to be at my home. I want them back. I'm sick and tired of waiting for them. I just want to go home.