Sinking Through the Cracks

Fighting

I sit up in bed, my heart rate slowing.  When I first saw them, I thought that they were strangers, but now that I recognize them, I'm calm.  I sit up in bed and Anthony follows suit.  I can tell that he's not as calm, but I try to steady him by intertwining my fingers with his.

"Ally, who is this?" my mother asks, her lips pursed.  She seems bigger than when she left on the trip.  Her black hair looks just as well maintained as always and she still seems put together.  My father stands still, his mouth closed, the shock that once sat on his face now faded to a look of pure hatred, but it's not directed at me, it's directed at Anthony. 

"This is Anthony." I say calmly.
"And why is Anthony in your bed? Shirtless?" my mother asks.
"Because he slept over and he is more comfortable shirtless."
"Is Anthony your boyfriend?"
"He hasn't officially asked me yet, but I think that you could classify us as that."
"I don't believe that we said that you could have boyfriends over while we were gone."
"And I don't recall you saying that you were coming home early and I also don't remember you even asking me if I was comfortable with you being gone."
"Clearly you made yourself comfortable with it."
"Yup,'' I finish flatly.  My mother stares at me, fury burning behind her eyes.

"Well.  I think that Anthony can go home now."
"Seeing as it's 2 am, I don't think that it's very nice of you to send a house guest home."
"If he was my house guest, I wouldn't, but this is my house and he's your guest so he will be leaving now."
"If it's your house and he's a guest, doesn't that make him your house guest?"
"No." she concludes.  Anthony releases my hand and grabs a shirt, pulling it over his head, before grabbing his bags and running out the door and down the stairs.  I hear the front door close and my heart seems to weigh 10 more pounds.

"Are you going to turn off the lights now?! So that I can sleep?!" I shout.  My parents leave the doorway, completely unconcerned with the look of sadness and anger on my face.  My mom comes back a few minutes later and says that she doesn't want to see Anthony back at our house.  She also says that I'm grounded until they leave on their next trip in a month, and the last thing that she says is that she expects that we never discuss tonight.  Without a response from me, she closes the door, all the light in my room disappearing.  I silently riffle through the drawer of my nightstand, pulling out the solitary razor within in.  I stumble to my desk in the dark and rest my arm on the cool surface.  I pull up the sleeve on my left arm and press the razor to it, loving the release of anger and sadness that it provides.  Blood drips over the surface of my desk, but I only dig the razor in deeper, letting the warm liquid pour over the surface of my desk.  I don't know how many cuts I make but I relish ever second of pain that distracts me from the current situation.  When I force myself to stop, the pain beginning to become overwhelming, I wipe up the large puddle of blood on the desk with paper.  I wrap my arm in gauze and fall back on to the bed. I fall asleep in minutes and wake up to a nightmare about Michael.  I stop screaming as soon as I realize that it's over, but the memories of him come flooding back.  I cry myself back to sleep and wake up and hour later to go to school.  I brush out the tangles in my hair and apply thick eyeliner around my eyes, trying to use the black to distract eyes from the redness  in my own.  I pull on a long sleeve, black and white floral shirt, and a military green sweater over it.  I pull on black leggings with tight legged black boots with laces up the front.  They have a three inch, thick heel and I apply a thin layer of foundation, and bronzer.  To cap things off, I grab a black beanie and run out the door.  I skateboard to school, my backpack weighing down my shoulders, and they only get heavier as the insults come flowing in.  I skip going to the counselor and instead, I go to a study hall.  I sink into a seat, avoiding everyone's eyes, and I pull a book out of my bag.  When the period ends, I go to my next period, but I can't pay attention. I ask to go the bathroom and don't return.  I stare at myself in the mirror and point out my own flaws.  I'm about to leave when someone comes in.  It's Ruby.

"Wow.  The ugly chick is in here and none of the mirrors are broken.  I wonder how you managed it." she says.  I put my head down and try to leave, but her arm blocks my way. 
"Leaving so soon," she says, innocently. 
"Please move," I plead. 
"Make me," she tempts and I decide to take her advice.  I elbow her sharply in the ribs and she falls to the ground, collapsing in a pool of her own vomit.  As she began to fall, I leapt over her body in to the hallway, avoiding the puddle of sick.  I grip my backpack straps and go to my next class.  I sit in the back of the room, avoiding Anthony's gaze.  When we get out of that class, it's time for lunch.  I go to my locker and exchange the books that I need.  When I close my locker, Anthony is standing behind the door.  I slap my hand to my chest, my heart racing. 

"Are you upset?" he asks me quietly.
"Yes."
"At me?"
"I... I don't think so.  I think it's more toward my parents.  I don't know."
"I wouldn't have left, but I didn't want your parent's first impression of me to be a negative one, although I think that I dropped the ball on that one,"  he says, and I laugh.  Our hands find each other in the sea of people and our fingers intertwine.  We walk to lunch together and I get a sandwich, although I doubt that I'm going to eat it.  I'm listening to Anthony recount a story about his little cousin when I suddenly wonder if he has any siblings.  When he finishes his story, I ask him,

"Do you have any siblings?"
"Yeah, two younger brothers.  My mom and dad are with them now, visiting my aunt.  You don't have any, right?"
"Right.  But I do have five older cousin who act as siblings." and I delve into a story about all of us.  I finish the story and it's a comfortable pause of silence when Anthony leans back in his seat, a grimace replacing the smile that I had just created.  I don't understand his anger until Logan sits down in the seat next to me.  I feel my heart start to race and my hands start shaking. 

"You can't do that to my girlfriend," he mutters.
"She should have gotten out of my way," I respond, quietly.
"Wait.  What happened?" Anthony asked, his voice loud and strong. 
"Your b**** girlfriend hurt my girlfriend,"  Logan spits.
"What did you do?" he asks me. 
"I went to the bathroom and was about to leave when she blocked the doorway.  She wouldn't get out of my way, so I elbowed her.  She sat in a puddle of her in vomit and I went to class."  I explain.  Anthony chuckles and Logan glares at me.

"I told you not to touch my girlfriend!" he shouts, and he punches my rib cage.  I fall to the ground and Anthony jumps up, grabbing Logan's shirt front.  I hear him punch Logan and security runs forward, separating them.  I feel someone's hand on my arm, helping me to my feet as I try to catch my breath.  I can barely hear the man's voice over Anthony shouting, but I recognize him as Mitchel.  When I look around,  a campus security guard is holding Anthony back and he is struggling to get back to Logan, to hit him.  I listen to his words as Mitchel leads me out of the cafeteria,

"DON'T TOUCH HER YOU F****** A******!  SHE'S MUCH MORE THAN YOU'LL EVER DESERVE!  NEVER TOUCH HER AGAIN!"  and this is all I can hear before Mitchel closes the door behind me. 

"What happened?" he begins,  "You didn't see me this morning and I come to find you and you're on the ground with two boys standing over you, fighting." 
I don't want to respond, and I don't know what to say, so I just stand where I am, blankly looking over his shoulder like an idiot.  My lips fumble to make words, but my brain isn't responding, only allowing the pain in my side to register.  What I would do to go and cut right now.