Toxic

Covering Up

*WARNING WARNING WARNING THERE IS ABUSE FOLLOWING THIS CHAPTER. YOU DON'T WANNA READ IT, SKIP THE STARS*

I got off the bus three stops before the apartment building so Ethan wouldn't suspect anything. I waited a good fifteen minutes before slipping inside and making my way up three flights of stairs. There were tons of scenarios going through my head in the five minutes it took me to walk upstairs, slip out the keys and stare at the plaque that read '327.' I turned around briefly, down the hall where Ethan lived. 316. Maybe I could ask him to stay there for the night. Something tells me his parents wouldn't appreciate having a beat up girl with their son's coat on their welcome mat.

So I sucked in a huge breath, jangled the keys and twisted the door open.

The first thing I see is a lit cigarette in one hand which lazily flailed from the great armchair in the living room. I could see the red tinge at the end and wisps of smoke curling in the air, causing the room to stench. If it wasn't the smoke, then it would be the smell of heavy alcohol. I could see a brown bottle in his other hand, half empty and slightly sloshing as if he'd just taken a swig.

To confirm my suspicions, he let out a sound of satisfaction. I gulped, barely audible to sad old drunk like my father. But he rose from his chair, extending to his full height. He was a proud 6'1, heavily built with hair like mine. He had a tattoo of a bird about to take flight on his forearm. A memory to my mother. I twisted the silver ring around my finger nervously and bit the corner of my lip. He cracked his neck, tilting it to the sides and rolling his shoulders back.

****************

"You're...home." I nod and then realize he still isn't facing me and drop my bag and coat by the door. He spins around. His eyes glow ice blue unlike my mother's green eyes. "Did you... bring me what I asked?" he slurred his words slightly. He was tipsy but not drunk. I mentally panicked. He didn't ask me to bring him anything? Was there a note somewhere? Did he send a message? Was he mistaken?

His eyes raked over my body. Bulky sweater, ratty thin jacket, washed out jeans, and converse. Then he looked over the bag and the coat. "Where did you get that?" he demands. I scramble for an explanation. "Did you buy it?" I shake my head quickly. He hates it when I spend his money. "Did you steal it?" I shake my head again. "ANSWER ME!" He downs the rest of the bottle in one gulp and raises it to hit me. "I found it!" I whimper holding up my hands in a protective stance. I wait for the hit. Nothing.

"I found it in the trash, that's why it's muddy." I explain. I want to slip into my room and cry. But I stand my ground. "Like the trash you are." he mutters. I make a move to walk away. I made it a little past his body before he spins and grabs me by the hair, undoing my bun into a ponytail. Pain shoots through my scalp as my back slams into the wall where I slump into a defeated heap.

He grabs my ponytail again dragging me into the kitchenette and faces me towards the countertops where I use my hands to steady myself. He slams my head down on the worn down countertops where my skin rips pulling it upward. My right eye is blurry giving me a headache as I blink quickly trying to regain my vision. The bruise didn't help either. "Go to your room." And with that, he opens the fridge, takes out one of his many drinks, and collapses back on his armchair smoking peacefully.

******************

I stumble slightly towards the door and scoop up the bag and coat. I shove the coat as far inside my bag as it would fit, pushing it in the space between binders. I zip it half closed before slinging it over one shoulder and wobbling back to my room. I slam the door shut and lock it. I unceremoniously drop onto the mattress and stare out the window. It was still iced over. The deadly thin icicles had a blunt tip with drips of water landing on the windowsill, which was draped with snow, every few seconds.

My breathing was shallow as I closed my eyes for a few seconds and then opened them to stare out the window again. It was silent in the house. I closed my eyes again feeling my headache turn to a dull throb and opened them again before I fell asleep. It was good that my room had a bathroom. Perfect place for 'my loving mother' and the makeup. I wobble slightly, still unsure of myself on my feet and grip the doorway for support before leaning onto the sink and rocking myself back and forth a couple of time. 

I looked up. Hideous. That's the only word that could explain my appearance. Hideous. There's a nasty cut above my right eye, the slap mark was still red against my pale skin. I doubted it would heal over night. The mud had mostly faded but I still washed my face gently. The imprint of my coat when Julia choked me was almost gone. That didn't need covering. I rolled my shoulder and wrist. I'd get over it. Sighing, I opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out the tools I needed. Marks were rarely left on my face. My father learned to avoid suspicion by hitting me below the shoulders. 

It wasn't that hard to cover it up before. But now... I sighed again and went to work.

***

My face was heavily caked by the time I finished. But hopefully, as long as I wasn't under the spotlight it was barely noticeable. I wiped the products off carefully and put the bag away. I could save a lot of time tomorrow morning. I didn't want to spend any more time in this house than I needed to. 

The next morning, I was up bright and early moving around as quietly as possibly. My arm still ached and as predicted the imprint on my neck from the coat was gone. I set to work, caking my face and turning at all angles to make sure no bruises were visible. Besides, even if anyone at school saw the makeup they would just find something to make fun of me for. I slid on Ethan's coat thankful for the warmth that morning since it was going to be especially cold and windy today. 

Creaking the door open, I tiptoed out of the apartment and practically ran towards the stairs to catch the bus. My bag was heavy but my other arm couldn't support any weight yet. So I simply readjusted the straps every few seconds. "Hey, what are you doing here?" I heard a familiar voice behind me and I froze. He must have recognized his coat. I spun around slowly plastering the most realistic smile on my face and greeting Ethan. 

"I.... wanted to pick you up." I said unconvincingly. Ethan raised a suspicious brow. "You wanted to pick me up?" he confirmed. I shifted from foot to foot under his scrutiny. "Is this about yesterday? You don't want to go to school alone, do you?" I nodded enthusiastically, grateful he'd given me a way out of this. "That's exactly it. I didn't have anyone before and now I do. I'm sorry, I should've warned you." He gave me a brief side hug and joined me at the bus stop. 

"Don't ever be sorry. You told me what was happening to you and I've heard horrible rumors but I've never actually seen you look so defenseless." He hasn't? Probably because he's the first person I can snap at without having to worry if he'll hit me or not. "Thanks." I mumbled and we stood there together taking in the snow covered ground and waited. But we were waiting for two different things. He waited for the bus to take us to school. I waited for the bus to take me to Julia and Matt. 

HELLO MY READERS! This is a really sucky chapter and for that I'm sorry. I also know I haven't updated many stories lately except for To the End of Us yesterday. I'm really excited for that story so go check that out! This story is going to end in a few chapters. Vote to spread the word. Vote if you liked it, comment if you wanna aaaand that's it. Virtual smiley faces for everyone! :) :) :) :) :)