Tragic

Tragic Part 3

Glass shattered against the wall next to my head. It broke into millions of little chips that can never be replaced again. Tiny flakes of the crystallized vase splattered into my hair and onto my skin. One larger piece had ricocheted off the wall and caused a cut on my cheekbone. I didn't even wince as the pieces of glass ran down my skin and smeared against the wall next to me. I silently slid down the wall and pulled my knees to my chest and for a brief moment, I was alone again. Until, I was ripped up from the ground by my arm and flung across the room and flipped over the couch. I could feel the bruises forming under my skin already. I tried to get up, but my body was too weak to move. My arms felt like noodles as I tried to push myself up from the floor. I did get up when I was lifted by a fist in my hair, which caused a scream from my mouth. I heard shouting in the room, but from where, I couldn't distinguish the noise. It was a moment before I felt myself against the wall and a body on my back. My arm was twisted to keep me in place and my hair was in the sight of my eyes. I couldn't move, I couldn't scream, I couldn't do a thing. I felt that helpless feeling grow back in the pit of my stomach. And I could feel it spreading through my brain. Pain engulfed my side after every blow I endured from the man holding me down. I could smell the bittersweet alcohol scent come from his breath that fanned across my face as he whispered useless threats into my ear. I held my breath for about a minute until he dropped me. He just left me on the floor, laying there unconscious. About an hour passed before I woke up and pulled myself up from the ground. I painfully made my way to my shower and turned the water on. I let it run as a scanned my body looking for anything too serious. The cut on my cheek wasn't deep enough to need stitches and the bruises on my torso weren't as bad as I thought. They were purple and blue and very large, but I don't think they were bleeding internally. I shook the thoughts away and put my beaten up body into the shower.

I knew why my father had done what he had done to me. It was because I had come home to late. I went to dinner with Marc as promised, but I was having so much fun I got side tracked and didn't keep up on time. Now I have to go to school in the morning with a cut on my cheek and bruises over my body. If I had only been smart and not stupid. I wish my family didn't make me feel this way. I felt so worthless when I looked at myself in the mirror. I had scars everywhere, some by me, some by them. Not one had been accidental, except for the ones from the crash. I stood under the water for a while thinking about what had happened an hour ago before grabbing a blade. I made lines along the middle of my forearm. The blood erupted immediately and it dripped from my arm onto the floor of the tub. I watched with no anticipation of patching them up. They burned when I turned the water off and bled through two of my bandages. I hadn't thought about how deep they were getting. I just wanted it to stop sooner than anything else. I wanted someone to tell me that they'll take care of me and that everything will be okay. Though, three years have passed and I don't think anyone cares.

I sucked in a breath as pain shot up my side when I laid down in bed. I grabbed my phone from my bedside table and looked at the texts I had. Seven from Dad, six from Mom, and one from Marc. I opened Marc's message.

Marc: Hey, gorgeous. Had a fun time, hope you did too. :)

Me: Had a wonderful time Marc, thanks :)

Marc: Maybe we can do it again sometime soon? :)

Me: Maybe, I've got a lot going on at home..

Marc: Are you ok?

Me: Yeah, I'm fine.

Marc: I didn't get you in trouble, did I?

Me: No, Marc. I'm going to bed now. Night xx

Marc: I'll pick you up in the morning. Night gorgeous xx

I smile and set my alarms before putting my phone back on the nightstand. I fell asleep easily that night. Only to be disrupted at 3 in the morning with nightmares of the accident. My palms were sweaty and beads of perspiration ran down my forehead. I lazily got up from my bed and stumbled into the bathroom. I splashed some cold water on my face before turning on the light and looking at my bruises again. In only a few hours they had grown from the size of a baseball into the size of a softball. I figured there was just more bruising than I had realized and shrugged it off. It couldn't get any worse, I thought to myself as I laid back down in bed. I fell asleep again only this time it was much more painful.

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I jolted awake in the morning drenched in sweat and excurciating pains in my sides. I stumbled out of bed, biting my lip to keep myself from screaming. The pain along my ribs felt like someone was trying to dig out each and every capillary with a toothpick. I hurt to even walk because every little movement sent an electrifiing current throughout my left side. I hurried grabbed a sweatshirt and yoga pants then pulled everything on. I slipped on my black Toms and clusmily thudded down the steps. My vision was starting to get cloudy and before I knew it I was scrolling throught the contacts in my phone, that I hadn't realized I'd picked up. Once I found Marc's name, I tapped on it without hesitiation. On the third ring, he picked up.

"Hello?" He asked sleepily through the phone.

"Marc, I-ahh..oh my God. I need... you..to...AAhh..drive..m-me..to..E.R." I gasped and groaned through every word trying to push them out clearly, but they came out in short gasps.

"I'm on my way. Stay on the phone with me, okay?" I could hear him rumaging around in his room, probably getting dressed. "I'm leaving now."

"Ok." Was all I could muster. It was about five minutes untill,
Marc showed up at my house. I was hunched over on the porch trying to get my breathing steady, which didn't work out at all. My breathing was ragid and heavy, I could barely get enough air. Marc bolted out of his car and ran up to my porch. He didn't even utter a word as he scooped me into his arms and rushed me into his truck.

By the time, we had gotten to the hospital 20 minutes later, I had already lost consciousness about three times. I knew I had internal bleeding and it wasn't the first time, but I don't remember it bein this painful, ever. It felt like someone was drilling holes into my side and then dropping acid into the holes. My body was on fire, but I was shaking like it were -40 degrees outside. Marc rushed me into the hospital and I was immediately on a stretcher they wheeled me threw the various halls of the gloomy emergency room. I could hear the nurses whispering back and forth to each other about how bad the bleeding was. I knew it was bad, but I didn't know how bad. I heard two of the male nurses telling me to hold on and that I was going to be okay. I knew they were lying, but maybe I would make it. I would hold onto to that hope only for Marc, the guy who came to my house at four in the morning to save my life.