Chapter 3
September, 12, 2011
To Whom It May Concern,
Well it’s evening now and I still don’t look any better. Especially not my eye, it may have actually gotten worse. It’s about 10pm and my mother will be home in a couple of hours. I rarely see her anymore since we moved here. She works 8 to 5, and then goes to check on my ill aunt Elizabeth for an hour, and then works 6 to midnight. I went to the bathroom and dug through my mother’s stuff until I came across her makeup. I applied a thin layer of concealer and cover up to hide my marks left by Snake and his crew. It covered nicely. I applied another layer to the bruise spread across my temple. I was limping, but I’d just tell her I ran my foot over with the door if she noticed.
I had cuts all up and down my back from the fence stabbing me with its jagged ends every time he slammed me up against it. I think I might actually have a broken rib from them kicking me when I was on the ground. You know the saying ‘Don’t kick me while I’m down, because when I get back up you’re fucked’? Well, that’s true for me. I’m a lover not a fighter, but I fight for what I love. I will fight for my right to walk on the streets without getting jumped by 8 fucking people. I stare into the mirror, my crystal clear blue eyes stare back at me. My reflection sickens me. I do not look like myself. I look like a ghost, a sad, lost, lonely ghost of my former self.
It’s strange really, how fast your emotions can change. I was a very happy kid back in NYC. Now I am lonely and scared and confused of how I am going to manage to make it through this school year. Like, I couldn’t even smile or laugh during Death Note. When I am done concealing my bruises, I go to my space. I can’t necessarily call it a room. It’s a small rectangular area in the corner of the trailer. Its capacity consists of a bunk built into the wall, with a desk/dresser underneath it. There are a few cabinets built into the bed, and a trunk to store stuff in. There’s a small square built into the end of the bunk, I store my anime books and movies in there. There is a huge window the stretches from the end of my bed to the ceiling above me. Like a mini sky roof in my bedroom. I used to sit on the window seat at my old apartment and try to count the stars. They’re soft glowing light calms me. I like stars because their always there, even if you can’t see them. I like to think of Nathan, Hannah and Natalie as my stars. I know their always be there for me, even if we’re thousands of miles away from each other and I can’t see them.
As I climb into my bunk, I wrap my velvet blanket around my damaged body. The cool air from the window against my back sends chills through my spine. I feel so exposed with my back facing out the window, I feel like if I roll over I will fall out the window. I know; strange fear. Yet at the same time, the faint light of each individual star soothes all my worries and puts me at peace. I’ve never felt so vulnerable yet so safe at once. As my seemingly endless contradictory feelings continue to harass me, I try to reassure myself that tomorrow will be better. I mean, the first is always the worst right?
I hear the clink of my mom’s heels at about 1:30 in the morning. I wonder why she’s home so late. But it’s not like I can ask her. I pretend to be asleep when I hear the rustle of the curtain blocking the entrance to my space.
