Red Marks and Torn Wings

Chapter 1: Souls Left Broken

After years of abuse, leaving me with not only physical but brutal mental scars. I learned who knew me.....those who have broken souls. I once met a girl.

Beautiful brown eyes that seemed to change color with her emotions, she was gorgeous. Inside and out people told her that but yet she didn't believe them. Her hair was short and a dark devious brown that left me in awe when I met her. She wasn't short, but yet in the same sense she wasn't very tall. She had slit wrist and scars up and down her arms, but she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I met her by chance, and that was so lucky of me. Because she was so perfect. So.... Passionate, and yet so mysterious. Her name was Grace.... She seemed innocent at first glance but behind that bright smile and gorgeous eyes she's a wallflower in disguise. Grace was a cutter herself as was I , unable to see past the pain in her eyes. She was a year older than I was but we still connected. She was one of two of the great best friends I met.

The second girl is Sylvia she was innocent. No cuts, no depression, but still cried herself to sleep on some nights. She had Mahogany brown eyes and warm dark brown hair. Her hair was flown and long and her figure was slim and tall. She wasn't small at all. Taller than Grace and I that's for sure. Sylvia kept Grace and I going. She stopped all our suicide attempts and told us she loved us. She meant it with every word she said. Grace and Sylvia knew each other before they knew me. They talked and were best friends before I was even talking to them. Sylvia helped Grace through a lot of things that most could never handle, though some how she managed it.

Life was at a difficult point when I met them. I was slitting my wrist almost everyday....screaming in my sleep and attempting to kill myself every night. Grace helped me through that and I try to help her with the same.

Grace is a journalist too. She writes poems, and she's a very talented writer. She's also very artistic, she draws with such a fiery passion it lights up her whole face. But that fire dies quickly for she isn't confident in herself. I don't know why though, she is gorgeous. Sylvia likes to sing and play sports like softball and such. She is more sporty and outgoing then most girls who are our age. She has a beautiful smile and she is a great student in school. She tries to help me and Grace out every opportunity she has. It hard with all the pressure we put on her but she deals with us because of the love we share.

As for me, I'm into journalism. I love to write about how I perceive the world through words. Something's in life are breathtaking such as when I wrote about the sunset on the sandy white beaches of California. Other things don't take my breath away they knock me out. Like my Alcoholic abusive step mom Lydia, and my drug addict sister Kylie. My mom died when I was 6 from a car accident that Kylie caused. Kylie was driving me, my baby sister Annabelle and my mom back home from a movie and she pulled out in front of an 18-wheeler that crashed into my moms side of the car. My mom and Annabelle died on the same day. Annabelle was only 2 months old at the time. Kylie wasn't sorry or grieving at all neither was my dad. He just said "Fuck it.... I'm going to the bar to find another wife!" And he left. Kylie didn't even show up to my mom's funeral. She said it was too sad, so she'd be at the club in case anyone needed her. She was so irresponsible!

Though my mother was gone for 2 years in advanced, it only took 2 months after the death of my mom for my father to get remarried. The abuse started 4 months after the crash, In the middle of a huge snow blizzard. The power went out and that night so did my will to live. My step- mom drank until she felt that should could do anything. My sister Kylie has done drugs for as long as i could remember. She's 19 and i remember her clearly hiding pot and tabacco in the drawers of her desk. She kept cigarettes in there and smoked around Annabelle until the car crash. She is ignorant and her irresponsibility kills me.

Annabelle and my mom didn't deserve to die. But Kylie did, and that thought was saved in my mind ever since the crash.

Not one person between My dad, Lydia, Kylie or Me, deserved to live. We didn't deserve to breath the same air my perfect mom and beautiful baby sister did. We we're the perfect example of an American horror family. All our neighbors moved away without last words. The only neighbor that left with saying goodbye was Lisa, she came over and gave us a pie. She then took me outside and told me why she was moving. She said," Aubrey, precious Aubrey. I hear the abuse. I hear your cries and blood curdling screams. I see your pale face with blood-shot eyes. You've got red marks, cuts and bruises all over your body. Why don't you just call for help?" At that moment my Lydia came out in a drunken rage. She took me by the arm, dragged me inside and beat me. Once again I was left with a black eye and a bloody nose. She continually hit me with objects. Between her broken, sharp, empty vodka bottles. Or metal chairs, which left gashes so big I could fit a paper clip in them. But that's just the way she was. Drowned all her worries and fears in vodka or tequila. Kylie was different, she wasn't as abusive. But yet I still have burns from cigarettes and pipes. Kylie cut me a couple times. She once beat me for walking into her room without permission. She sat on top of me and uses either large kitchen knife about 8'' inches or a box cutter blade. She has gotten so close to my throat it burned. It felt like all I could breathe was heavy, hot, burning breaths that destroyed me ever time I gasped for air.

My dad was no different. Abusive towards me and no one else. He wasn't drunk or on drugs though. He beat me out of nowhere. Just me and him. He looked at me with eyes as red as the devils blood and beat me with things that people would use everyday. The worst thing is when all 3 of them team up and beat me together. It's like I'm in hell already, no one there, nothing left. The thing I look forward to most is blacking out. Seeing nothing, hearing silence. It's so peaceful, like no one is hurting me. No pain, and it feels great. It's dark and I can slowly breathe. Slow, cool, normal breathes someday hoping they'll be my last breathes. It's a day dream....sometimes that's all I live for, just a daydream once and awhile. Just to help me forget my terrible life.