Four leaf clover

Hey guys this is dedicated to my friend who I love alot <3 she is like my inspiration everyone needs to check out her work!! Her name is Ann_Marie18 (she also came up with my book cover so if you have any requests ASK!! I'm sure she would be happy to help out!)

Also excuse the spelling errors tell me what you think!

 I like four leaf clovers. Like me they don't fit. Four leaf clovers are excluded from the golden ratio. A freak in an otherwise perfect world. I would rather be a four leaf clover than a sunflower. On my way back from school I found a four leaf clover I stored it in my pocket. I don't want him to find it. I don't know if I want to go home I've often pondered running away but can never quite force myself to it. No I really do not want to go home Maria will be there. Lying quite still like she always does curled up, the dried up tears leaving marks all down her face eyes blank and lifeless. She didn't always use to be like this. Once when I was younger I found a heavy black photo book I remember running my fingers down the gold painted spine and hiding it under my bed.  I would wait until the screams would subside and the sobbing would silence before taking it out. The inside shocked me. People I had never seen smiled up at me the warmth genuine and sincere. There smiled a beautiful and ravishing woman whose eyes glittered with life she seemed flushed in the embrace of a handsome tanned man. They looked at each other with such love like the world didn't matter as long as they had each other. I turned pages and pages to find more pictures of these strangers laughing, kissing, holding hands, dancing in the rain. I wish I had known these people before they had changed. There was proof that I had once had a mother and father. These were pictures that were not fake, these smiles were not fake and this love was not fake. I had ripped out the first picture and kept it under my pillow. Every time things got bad I would hide under my duvet trying to block out the hitting and screaming. I would hug the photo praying to God that these people would come back, that they would love me as much as they loved each other and we would be happy. My prayer was never answered. I never found those people and I never will. I gently open the front door. Quiet. Like the quiet after a storm. He must still be at work. I can hear Maria quietly sobbing in her bedroom but I ignore it and head to my room. It's been ransacked my duvet has been ripped from the mattress; my books are on the floor, the waste bin on its side. This is not an unusual thing normally when my room gets destroyed it means the boxing match occurred there. Boxing match would suggest that both parties are involved in the violence. Maybe boxer and punching bag is a better metaphor.

'Aria...is that you' a voice whispers. I turn to face Maria who is at the door. Her face is blotched and red. I notice her lip is bleeding.

'Let me clean up' she bends to pick up a book but she winces 'I will be faster. You know how upset your father gets when your room is untidy' I don't say anything. I never speak to Maria unless I absolutely need to. If she asks me a question I reply with yes or no. Nothing more, nothing less. She tries to bend down again but the pain is too much and she ends up sitting on the edge of my bed clutching her side

'I'm fine' she whispers silent tears falling down her checks. I'm staring at her. I don't know what to say anymore. I remember years ago whenever she cried hugging her, kissing away her tears and silently begging for her to leave him. She would never listen to me. I gave up asking.

'Come here' she reaches out her hands for me to take. Her eyes are pleading. I know if I don't she will be hurt but I want her to hurt. I want her to hurt because she is the reason I'm still here. She can get up any time she wants, go to the police and get him out of our lives. It would be ok if staying with him hurt just her but it's not just her who is getting the abuse. She has a child. She smiles through her tears as I hold out one hand which she grasps. They're cold but soft and she tries to entwine her fingers through mine but I don't respond.