Discontinued - PJO One Shots

Battered and Broken (Jasper)

In all my eighteen years of life, there was a day I hated more than School Photos Day.

One day a year, the school I attended held a day for casual dress. It was a day for students to replace the uniform with an attire that expressed their personality. Except for me who was always seen in boring coloured jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. This year, since it was my last year, I wanted the day to go smoothly with no one thinking it was perfectly okay to send me their usual judgemental gazes.

There was a reason behind my poorly styled outfit and even the people who had barely enough money stilled looked better than I. I suppose they had jobs or parents who were willing to give them money. Unfortunately, they were luckier than I was.

My life hadn’t been easy since the day I was born, looking like an exact replica of both my mum and father. However, as the years went by, my parents became restless around each other, always arguing whenever my presence wasn’t around. But, my young ears detected everything no matter what volume. Even the strangled sobs of agonising pain floated to my bedroom.

The real story behind all the fighting had been buried until my twelfth year of living. I’d always wondered how my mum ended up being speckled in cuts and bruises but now, I just wished to forget all the tragedies that were embedded in my mind. Flashes of my father violently swinging an empty bottle and my mum’s bleeding hands as she crouched in fear still lingered behind my eyelids. Then there was the broom in my hands that snapped over my father’s head and the crack as he hit the floor, unconscious. My mum ushered me to my room, tucking me into bed.

After Mum left my room, she had finally decided to leave the sickened fate that she had been destined to. All her belongings were cleared out. All but me and a battered box that had my name hastily scribbled on it.

My head shook as my kaleidoscope eyes glanced at my arms, observing every inch of the scarred tissue. They used to be beautiful and smooth as the sun reflected off the tanned colour. Now, in a haphazard pattern, charred blackness was burnt into my skin. The blotched redness around them were stinging, sending jolts of pain through every nerve in my bruised body. The bag of frozen peas that sat on my arms wasn’t even doing any justice to the aching, cigarette burns. But, I didn’t let tears escape from my eyes as I rose from my bed, pulling out the box my mum left me all those years ago. Not even when I gasped at what was packed away.

Thoughts raced about in my mind as my fingers ran over the objects in the box. My mum’s most prized possessions had been packed away for six years, collecting dust in the back of my cupboard and I had no idea about it. I clutched a piece of material before pulling it out, the material taking the form of a dress. If I was capable of crying, tears of joy would’ve rolled down my cheeks. The dress was breathtakingly beautiful with its mossy green colour and lace that covered the bodice. The skirt was slightly ruffled and was a darker shade then it’s chest. It was even long-sleeved which worked well with covering the scars that littered my arms. My hands pulled the dress over my head as it fit my body shape better than the shirts and jeans I was so accustomed to wearing. I slipped on a pair of black leggings and pushed my feet into a pair of brown ankle boots. My fingers ran through my brown curls, tousling it to give off the cute bed hair look. As I did my make-up, covering the bruises and scars that were evident on my tanned, narrowness of a face, I felt relieved that I had decided to open the box my mum had left me.

After doing a once over on my appearance, I exited the house, making sure it was tidied as my father hated messy houses.

~***~

It was pouring down raining when I arrived at my destination. I’d tried my best to fend the rain off with my umbrella, but it had broken on the walk. So, there I was, in the entrance of the brightly lit school, water dripping from my clothes as everyone stared at me with disgust. They pointed fingers at me, laughter escaping from their throats, but I continued walking into the school. The unluckiness of Casual Clothes Day radiated from me.  My head dropped down so that I was looking not only at the floor but also the people ahead of me. They moved out of my way as I slinked down the hall, coming to a stop at my boyfriend’s locker.

Jason was muscular with closely cropped sandy blonde hair. He had blue eyes that dazzled and the second they landed on my dull kaleidoscope ones, his lips cured upwards. His body moved forward as his arms enveloped my lanky frame into a comforting hug. His soft hands moved down to my arms, gently caressing them as he heard the winces coming from my throat. Jason was just being kind, but he had no idea about the abuse that my father put me through. That was until I saw his jaw drop as those blue eyes studied my face once again. When I realised my make-up had smudged in the rain I knew there was no escaping this situation.

I turned away from Jason, trying to unwrap myself from his hug but I found it impossible. Jason held me there, ensuring that he’d be there for every step of the journey I had to succumb to. So, as the tears fell down my cheeks for the first time in years, my mouth rambled on about the trauma my young self was subducted to. For the first time in years, I unbottled all the hidden and hurtful pain that had been buried deep inside of me. 

We stood there, frozen as he peppered sweet kisses on my face. He promised to sweep me off my feet and rescue me from the evils of the vastly unknown world. While the tears continued to flow, I thought of Jason as my river who was currently guiding me, a helpless mermaid to safety.