• j a d e •
another four months had passed. i stayed over at harry's a lot, and when it wasn't his house, it was mine. we had to be careful, though. it was easy for him, because he was old enough to do as he pleased without his parents getting in the way.
mine were absolutely lethal.
when my mum was first faced with an empty bed of mine at eleven o'clock at night, she was frantic, and pissed off. she didn't sleep until i came through my window the next morning at six am, not expecting to see her sat at my desk.
"where have you been?" she asked, her eyes puffy and red. i felt terrible instantly. although i was eighteen in exactly five months, she still worried, like any mother would.
"i'm sorry, i slept at leigh-anne's."
"nà bi ag iarraidh cluain an chacamais a chur orm!" she screamed. the fact that she said it in gaelic made it ten times scarier, her first language coming to use as she cursed at me.
"i'm not bullshitting you! leigh was really upset last night, and i didn't want to leave her." my mum didn't believe me, but she said nothing of it and walked out of my room.
it wasn't until i followed her downstairs that i got what was coming to me. she hit me with her slipper repeatedly, and i just had to stand there and take it because i could see it coming from a mile off.
"don't scare me like that again, chacsmuitìn."
my mother just called me a gobshite. lovely.
she yelled at me to go to my room before my father came back, and i begged for her not to tell him. she agreed instantly, clearly not oblivious to what goes on in this house. at least she didn't try to make it worse.
back to now, i turned the shower on and let the water cascade down my body. my mind drifted off to harry, and what he would be doing at that moment in time. more specifically, what would he be doing if he was with me? my body burned at the thoughts running through my head.
i step out of the shower, wrapped in a white fluffy towel. popping a pill into my mouth from the steamed up cabinet, i swallow it dry and sigh in relief. that's better.
you could clearly see the yellowish marks running up and down my arms, a couple of dark purple ones in the mix.
i gasped when my eyes met in the mirror, them instantly spilling with tears as they rolled softly and slowly down my cheek.
the new bruise on my eye would be hard to hide from harry. what would he do when he saw the wrath of my fathers actions? and what would he be able to say when he found out who did this to his angel?
