Paper Butterflies

Chapter Two

               It had taken me about fifteen minutes to walk to school. In my opinion in wasn’t long enough. Sighing once again today I pulled up my hood before walking into the school.

               The hour that passed seemed like minutes as I walked out of my first period class and headed to my next. Sitting down in the back I watched as students came in and talked with their friends, laughing and joking. I wanted that, but I couldn't have it. Not now, and probably not ever.

               Instead I tried to ignore them as I doodled in my notebook.

               After third period I had lunch. At this point I didn't want to be in school. So, against my better judgment I decided to leave, not coming back for fourth period or the third period I didn’t have.

               I spent my day at the library. It's was quiet and I could lose myself in a book, wishing my life was like the fairy tales I read.

               By the time I left my fiction world it was about 4:30. Panic rose in my throat as I walked home, with each step came more fear. It only increased as I saw my father’s glaring face as I walked inside.

               "Stupid slut! Where have you been, huh? Whoring yourself around? Did I fucking tell you, you could stay out?" he screamed.

               I didn't get a chance to respond as I was sent sprawling to the floor. He'd slapped me. My left cheek felt nothing but searing pain.

               Using the fact that I was on the floor to his advantage my father swung his leg into my stomach. He did this a few times until I was on my back. He lifted his leg and stomped on my stomach. I swear I heard a cracking sound before I felt the sharp pain. I couldn’t help but let out a short scream.

               When he was satisfied with the damage he had inflicted on me, my father walked away with a beer in his hand. “Stupid bitch.” He muttered.

               I slowly got up and made my way to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror I saw my entire left cheek was swelling slightly, though it'd be gone by morning. I lifted my shirt to see my stomach was already a dark purple and blue. The older bruises were now a yellowish color. I knew one of my ribs was probably broken but it wasn't something I hadn't felt before. I held on to the edges of the counter top, letting a few tears escape my eyes as I squeezed them shut. Taking a breath I stood straight. Ignoring the pain I took a hot shower before getting ready for bed. I slowly got into my small bed and waited for sleep to consume me.

               When I woke up I felt sore, my ribs were aching for medical attention and my cheek was again a deep purple. I did my usual bathroom routine: brush hair, leave it down, and analyze bruised face. Moving to my closet I slowly took out a long sleeve blue shirt and from my dresser a pair of skinny jeans. Putting on the clothes I added my jacket and converse, along with my beanie.

               With my bag in hand I carefully, as to not wake up my drunken father, slipped out the door. With strong pain in my side I pushed through the windy weather, the mid-April air slightly cold.

               Walking into school I realized I was late. The halls were empty, as the sound of my footsteps filled the silence.

Opening the door to my class it was like the silence of the hallway fell over the class. The students stared back at me as the teacher did.

               "It’s nice of you to join us by interrupting the class. Put your hood down and take a seat.” The woman spoke, obviously agitated.