My Savior

Cages Made of Bruises

(Warning before you read: This story has swearing and talks about abuse of all kinds. If you are uncomfortable with those things, please DO NOT read this story. Thank you.)

CRACK

The single sound alone could be heard for a mile at least. Ok. Maybe not a mile, but it was definitely loud, considering that with that lovely sound, a yell of pain was what echoed right after it.

That sound was the sound of a nose breaking and a jaw popping at the same time. The victim's head turned a sharp and quick 90 degree angle sideways as his nose started to already drip with blood. He was breathing heavily as his arms and legs were littered in bruises and all sorts of marks from the previous fight he just had. He knelt on the ground, head still turned away from his attacker.

His "attacker", a 18 year old girl by the name of Samantha Speckman just stood there, her hand still reached out in an "after punching" position. That position being one that her face was in the crook of her elbow, and her fist still clenched tight. Her eyes were still narrowed, as if she was daring the man to make any sudden ambush attacks on her. She stared as the victim struggled to get up due to his multiple bruises and most likely a twisted ankle. And, as he did get up, he limped away quickly, wanting to get away from the rather strong female.

As he disappeared around a corner in pure fear, the girl's hand dropped heavily to her side. That fight had given her nothing more than a small scratch on the cheek from a fingernail and bruised-up knuckles.

"Good job..." Said a man, who had been standing on the sidelines of the ongoing fight the whole time. He was currently doing that 'slow clap' that most sarcastic people do.

Sam slowly turned her head and gave a bored, yet annoyed expression. "Fuck you too,".

The man chuckled.

"Now that's no way to talk to me, now is it?" He said, giving a small smirk.

The girl turned her whole body, giving him the dirtiest glare that she could muster.

"It's a free country. Ever heard of freedom of speech?" She said, clearly annoyed with the current situation.

The man shook his head in pity, still chuckling his ass off.

"Ever heard of the rule between you and me; no food unless your respectful towards me?" He said, a sickening sweet smile plastered onto his face.

Sam sighed, looking away in defeat.

The man grinned, crossing his arms. "That's what I thought,"

The man, who went by the name of Kyle Diggs, was one of the few people who could beat Sam in a fight. Yes, Sam was strong indeed. But Kyle was stronger. He even looked stronger. Being a height of 6"9, he had a dirty blond haircut consisted of a short style, hair sticking out in all places, like he just got out of bed. He was free of facial hair on his clear, free-of-acne face and his eyes were a piercing blue that just screamed "Don't mess with me". He wore a red and white letter man jacket, with a white t shirt underneath. He wore black jeans and brown combat boots along with black fingerless gloves. All complete with a single dog tag hung around his neck.

Sam, on the other hand, was a small 18 year old, having a height of 5"2. Her clothes usually was just a black summer dress, with her mother's dark green scarf tied around her neck. Her shoes were dirty black converse, neither of the two people having the energy to clean them. Her eyes were a bright hazel, that also screamed "Don't mess with me" most of the time.