Love

Chapter 6

The agony was excruciating– breathing– living in this moment; it was so painful. Each breath was like another blow to my ribs, as if they shifted nearly every time I inhaled– it felt like knives were slipping in between my ribs– the pain was horrible, but I had no choice other than to manage it.

The sunlight was peering in through the unguarded windows and was shining through my eyelids. Opening my eyes slowly, and without warning, they were assaulted with a blinding light, dragging a hand across the floor, I hid my eyes with artificial darkness.

What happened last nigh-

And then Tyler remembered–he remembered everything from the night before–the bottle Jeff broke on his face, the constant blows to his face and abdomen, and the degradation that Jeff exhibited onto Tyler.

The scenes replayed in in his mind, over and over again. During the flashbacks, Tyler would flinch at every memory of every blow that Jeff struck him with, but after a few reoccurring flashbacks, he snapped out of the cycle.

I was on the floor of the TV room, covered in blood and something sticky. I examined my surrounds and saw that Jeff was nowhere to be found; it was likely that he had passed out in some alley way somewhere.

I pushed myself off the floor; pealing myself away from the hardwood. Shards of glass slid off my face and onto the floor; looking down I saw a sight no man should ever have to bear witness.

It was a puddle of blood, my blood, it had dried overnight and was sprinkled with shards of glass. Just a few inches away was a small blood spatter, no doubt from where I spit up blood from last night.

Looking down at myself, I saw that my shirt was soaked, a little red but mostly beer; it clung to my body like a parasite.

Touching my face and a sharp pain shot from through my body, every fiber of my being begged me to remove my hand–so I obliged– that specific pain instantly subsided. Dried blood streaked its way from the side of my face and head and rolled down my neck onto my shirt.

How could somebody do this; hate something about someone, to the point that it makes them cause bodily harm to that individual... I just don't understand... I didn't do anything wrong

Walking to my room I take notice that I can barely see out of my left eye.

I'll have to look at that when I get to the bathroom

Disregarding the bottles that littered the hallway, I grabbed some clean clothes, a towel, and headed for the bathroom; ignoring the mirror on the medicine cabinet as I enter.

Stepping out of my shoes and turning the water on hot, I don't even wait for the shower to warm up before stepping into the cold streams of liquid, fully clothed.

The cold streams hit my face, sending chills down my spine, the hair on the back of my neck stand on edge, but this gelid rush of liquid was welcomed with open arms; at this point anything that took my mind off the pain was welcome.

Dipping my head into the streams of water as it begins to warm, I studied the clear water that rolled off my skin and onto the shower floor. The clear water that washed over my skin was suddenly lost in a sea of red as it washed the blood that had collected around the gashes on my face, neck, and head onto shower floor.

I slowly, and cautiously begin to strip out of my clothes, starting with my shorts and socks. They came off with ease, but the shirt was more difficult; clinging to my skin, it took great effort to break the suction between the two elements.

Reaching up with my left hand and gripping the bottom of shirt with my right, I slowly bring it over my head. I throw it on top of the railing that held the shower doors, streaks of pink dripped down the inside of the door.