Scars We Bury || On Hold

11// Tired/Abandoned

Chapter 11

"Secrets I have held in my heart are much harder to hide than I thought."
~Luke Charles

"Him not responding is a response."
~Scarlett Robinson
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One day later....
Monday October 11, 2015
Luke.........
I wake up today feeling happy, relaxed and somehow grateful for the coincidence that made me meet Scar in highschool. School hasn't always been my favourite place. To me school was a place for all fake girls who are trying to grab every boy's attention, fake boys who pretend to be rich, cool, handsome...etc, teachers who have insecurities and complications and their aim in school is to just show us how they are really tired of those complications and insecurities. School was just good in one thing, a place for me to hide from my brutal life. I am also from those fake boys who pretend to have the perfect life with the perfect parents, a caring protective mother and a kind father who treats me like his bestfriend. Who am I kidding! Those are all lies and that's how school works......LIES. But maybe I found a truth somewhere in Scar, she is somehow real in that school. She is not fake. She has secrets and no one knows what's going on in her life but at least her personality is not as fake as those girls in that school. I am really glad I got the chance to encounter someone as beautiful, caring, genuine, and kind as her.

I get up from my bed on some shouts I hear coming from downstairs. I walk downstairs just to find Mom and Dad fighting.

"What's going on?" I say frustrated as I get downstairs. Mom looks at me with tears in her eyes and Dad takes a glance at me, his eyes filled with rage and anger. I know where this is going. Broken ribs again. When will this stop!! I am so fucking tired of getting punched everytime I step in their fights. I walk to them and I stand between them. "What now?!" I ask as I cross my arms. "I am so tired of you both."
I let out a big deep sigh that indicates how annoyed I am. "Tell him Luke because he never learns." Mom says and I look at her. I find tears escaping her eyes. Nothing will ever change. I have seen those tears for 10 years. Tears of regret, sadness, annoyment...etc. I take a glance at my father but my eyes stop at his hands which turned into fists ready to punch.
"Mom! Go rest in your room now." I whisper to my mom, she shakes her head "But Luke..."

"Please Mom. Just go rest now." I plead and she nods her head hesitantly and goes upstairs. I turn to look at my father whose eyes are full of anger. "Okay go on. Punch me now." I say as I put my hands on my waist waiting for him to punch me. He looks at me with such annoyment. He raises his hands which are turned into fists, I close my eyes waiting for the punch to hit me as if a truck has just hit me. I close my eyes tightly not because I am afraid or something but to not see the look of hatred in his eyes.

That look of hatred pains me more than his punch. It's a look telling me that I am nothing...I am a piece of trash.....his punching bag....his biggest mistake in life....and that look of pity that says I am a broken hopeless drug addict who acts to have feelings and emotions when he has nothing. I keep my eyes shut waiting for something to hit me like a truck but I find nothing. I open my eyes  just to see his look at me...that look that I hate....that look that pains me more than anything. He brings his hands down. I let out a sigh but then I find a huge slap on my cheek. A slap!! Really! He wants to make me feel humiliated. He never slapped me...he would punch me, kick me but never really slap me. That slap is bound to make me feel like shit...That slap is to show me how weak I am compared to him. That slap hurt more...because it just shows that he is the winner here and he really is. I can do nothing to defend myself or my mother.

He chuckles then he leaves the house. I walk upstairs, my head down and my hands turned into fists. I feel humiliated so much. I feel like I just want to explode. I am feeling so much anger and rage inside me. I feel like I want to scream. I want to get that anger and rage outside of me. I make my way to my room and I slap the door behind me.