A Smile

1. A Smile

1. A Smile

A smile can hind a million feelings. A smile can deny the pain of loosing a loved one, or the agony of a broken bone. A smile can remove the jealousy from our features and hide the anger. A smile can make the sadness disappear or overcome shock.

A smile can hide the horror when they ask about your scars and you don't know what to say. A smile can cover the haunted eyes of the past and remove it from view. A smile can help keep people away when they get too curious.

And most of all, possibly the most important, a smile is one of the best defences known to man, helping the lies that hide the truth.

*** 

When the air that I was breathing became the air that I choked on, I knew It was coming to an end. Travis was finally getting bored; a sentence that was silent bliss in my mind. I suddenly screamed when he stormed over to me and gripped my hair, pulling me to my feet and pushing me against the wall, still I tried to regain my breath. But I didn't have time as he brought back his other fist and slammed it against my face. I could hear the snap of my noes over the ringing of my ears, telling me that it was probably broken. Wonderful.

But, I was right. He soon left after that, dropping me to the floor and staggering out, not however, before burping loudly and giving me a few choice words. The smell of alcohol from his breath still lingered in the air as I clutched my bleeding face, soft sobs running through me.

But I deserved this. 

Blood trickled down my noes and onto my bottom lip, sliding into my mouth, the metallic taste flooded my tongue. My jaw held a black and blue bruise, causing even to speak a difficulty, my left eye and check was slightly swollen. I was dizzy and lightheaded, didn't know what was happening.

Every breath was a struggle, but I gritted my teeth and slowly hauled myself off the floor, leaning heavily on the counter, I dragged myself up the stairs and into my room.

I never liked my father, but my mother's death made him worse. His behaviour became aggressive, abusive. For years I've suffered him. For years I've endured every hit, every slap and every kick. But sometimes I wonder what would happen if I leave, turn and never look back. I needed a new life, just a matter of timing...

And courage, I would need that too.

Sometime during the night I cried myself to sleep, a habit I was used to since Amelia, my mother, died. And when I woke up, a silent tear ran the length of my cheek, I was drained, emotionally and physically. I really didn't want to go to school today, but the way I thought of it; It was Friday so it'll only one day.

Painfully, I wriggled out of bed and staggered to my wardrobe. I pulled out a pair of black jeans to cover the bruises on my legs and a long band t-shirt to cover mt stomach, along with a jacket for my arms. But before I put any of it on, I sat in front of the mirror and put on some foundation for the bruising on my jaw and neck. My cheek wasn't swollen anymore, so that's good I suppose.

I spent about twenty minuets getting the make up right so it would cover the bruises, then and only then, putting on my clothes for the day while trying to move as little as possible.

I didn't take long and I soon found myself creeping downstairs and grabbing an apple for breakfast before running out the door- well, as good as a run could be with a sprained ankle.

I went to a normal school; it had the "popular" people with the big hair that had gone make-up mad in the morning. It had the "nerds" who got straight A's, yet had no friends. And everyone really, the people who never stop talking, the loud ones, the emo's, the one who has crazy ideas, the ones that never got caught.