My Savior

"Home"

Cecilia
I quietly opened the front door, hoping to god she wouldn't hear me go to work. I worked as a waitress at a small dinner. I'm only 17, but I dropped out of high school because the teachers were getting suspicious. I know what would would happen is she did hear me exit, and let me tell you, it would not have been pretty. Thats when I hear the dreaded sound.
    "Where do you think you're going you stupid bitch?" Shit.
     "T-to work"I stuttered, hoping to God that she would let me go without any trouble. Unfortunately, I'm not that lucky.
     "Haha," she let out a slurred laugh,"like I'd believe that, you're probably going to your favorite street corner." To most people her language would make them A. Gasp in shock, or B. Make them cry, but her words never phased me. It was what followed.
     "I'll just be going now" I whimpered as I opened the door more.
     "Oh no you aren't!" She slammed to door shut and shoved me to the ground. Grabbing one of the many wine bottles we had laying around our shitty apartment, she slammed it on my back and I let out a yelp of pain. She took a sip out of the wine bottle she had in her other hand.
      "Get up you whore!" Her words were slurred even more so now. I pushed myself up and screamed in pain from the glass logged in my back.
     "Shut up!" She slapped me hard across the cheek and my head whipped back. I retreated back to my room ( or should I say closet) slowly.
      "I'm not down with you yet slut!" She lit a cigarette and took a long drag before yanking my wrist out and putting the flaming bud on it. I yelled at her to stop. She pushed me down and I  made sure to land in my side so the glass wouldn't lodge itself further into my back.
       She kicked me in the ribs.
        " Now I'm fucking done" and she went back to her room. I limped in pain to the bathroom and proceeded to pull the glass out of my back. This seemed like routine. Than I put disinfectant on my back and my ribs and rapped them in gauze. Then I put some burn cream on my wrist and rapped them as well. My waitress gig gave me enough money to buy the medical supplies and decent clothes. I walked to the closet I call my room and changed out of my blood soaked uniform and changed into my back up.I put on concealer to hide the marks from her hand and still in crippling pain I proceeded to leave the place I call my " home" and limped to work. Finally, I was free. Well, for eight hours any way.

Picture of Cecilia on the top/ side