Bruises | l.mh

02

//yena

I MAKE SURE TO wear my black tights underneath my navy blue skirt as I'm getting ready for school. I slip my white uniform shirt on with my blue tie and then pull my gray jacket on. I slip into my white sneakers and grab my larger backpack, the one for school, as I head out of my bedroom door.

On the way out the front door, I grab an apple off the kitchen counter.

And then I'm outside, in the cool morning air.

I eat the apple as I walk to school. My school isn't far from my house and I walk there everyday. We only have one car and I'm never allowed to use it. I don't mind walking, though. It gives me time to just be, away from home and school.

I didn't finish my homework last night and my mother knew about it. She started yelling at me as soon as I got home, and the slap on the cheek came soon after. I willed myself not to cry and went into my bedroom. I didn't do my homework after that, either.

It wasn't bad last night. She's usually worse.

That's why I have to wear the tights. There are bruises on my legs, a few on my thighs and a few on my calves. And they were all put there by her.

But I guess it's just something I have to live with. I mean, I've grown up like this. My mother was alone with me most of my life and she was just so angry all the time. She liked to take her anger out on me. It started when I was around seven years old. And I've always known that a mother shouldn't hit their child, but that's just what my mother does. I know I could do something about it, but I don't. I can't imagine the backlash I would get from her if she found out I called the police or something like that.

So, I live with it and I deal with it.

Ji-sub doesn't hit me or anything. I'm grateful for that. But he also knows that my mother is abusive toward me and he doesn't do anything about it. He can hear her screaming at me, and he can hear her hitting me with this special metal spoon she uses sometimes. He's even witnessed both of those things. But he does nothing. He doesn't help me. He's too coward. He's even too coward to leave my mother.

But this is what I have to live with. Hopefully not for much longer, though. As soon as I'm finished with school, I'm leaving this house. I don't know where I'm gonna go or if I'm even gonna be able to be successful, but anywhere has got to be better than there.

Once I reach the school, I go inside and head toward the library. Classes don't start for another thirty minutes or so, but I always get here really early. If I didn't get here this early, there would be a chance that my mother would be awake and getting ready for work. And there would be a chance that she would stop me or talk to me or something. And I just really don't want that to happen on a morning right before school.

I sit down at a table in the library. I'm the only one in here right now, besides the librarian. But she's sitting at her desk, reading a book. So, I mind my own business and put my earbuds in and start playing some music. I get my notebook and a pencil out, opening to the page I was writing in last night.

I take a breath and put my pencil to paper.

<<<

IN HISTORY CLASS, I'M a little more fidgety that usual. I'm sitting at a desk in the back, watching as everyone is being called to the front of the class to present their findings. We were supposed to do some research on a certain time period over the weekend. I didn't do anything.

The girl who sits next to me is presenting something about the romantic era and giving interesting facts about the music and art during that time. I can't listen to much of it, though, because I know I'm next. And my teacher is not going to be very happy when I tell him that I didn't do the homework.

This isn't the first assignment I've missed in history class. And I already know that when a student in this class misses an assignment, they get detention. I don't really mind getting detention, but my mother hates when I get detention. She hates when I have missing work and she hates when I get bad grades on tests and assignments.

"Yena?" The teacher calls. "You're next."

I clear my throat. "I don't have anything to present."

"You don't? And why not?"

"Because I didn't do the assignment. I'm sorry, sir."

The teacher lets out a long sigh. "I would like you to see me after class, Yena."

"Yes, sir."

The presentations go on. But now I've got to talk to the teacher after class just so he can tell me that I need to be in detention today.

And that's exactly how it goes.

I know the routine.

<<<

"TAKE YOUR SEATS, PLEASE. You can get out some homework and do that, read a book, write something down, but you cannot use your phones. This is detention, kids."

The teacher at the front gives us a glare as we walk into the classroom. She's almost always here for after school detention, so I'm pretty used to being in her classroom now.

I sit down in a seat near the back and get my notebook out. The story is about a girl getting lost in the woods in autumn, but not really caring that she's lost. She's exploring this place and finding out so many new things about these woods.

I get to work.

Detention is an hour and half long, so it's a lot of time to be writing. I don't mind detention, because it's quiet and I get to write and I don't have to be at home. It's just that I still have to go home after detention, where my mother is usually waiting to ask what trouble I got into this time.

Thirty minutes into detention and I'm writing about the girl stumbling upon an elaborate tree house when the door swings open and heavy footsteps enter.

"Excuse me, mister, but you are very late."

I can't help but look up.

The guy walking in is wearing the regular, black and blue uniform: nice black pants, white dress shirt, navy blue tie, white shoes. But he's also wearing a jean jacket over his shirt, which is definitely not part of the uniform.

That's what I notice about him first. A couple seconds more and I've also noticed he has dark brown hair, almost black, hanging over his forehead but parted to the side. His hair almost reaches his russet brown eyes, brushing against his eyelashes.

"Yeah, I forgot about detention," he says to the teacher in a nonchalant voice as he begins to make his way toward the back of the room.

"You've missed over fifteen detentions this semester, Mr. Lee. No cellphones allowed, you have to do homework or read a book. Do you understand?"

The guy doesn't respond as he sits down at the desk on my right, slinging his backpack off his shoulder to the floor on his right.

I look back down at my notebook and try to read over what I've written, trying to get my train of thought back on the right track.

But the guy next to me sighs loudly, rummaging through his backpack noisily. I look over as he finally finds whatever he's looking for and pulls out a sketchbook and a pen. He slaps the sketchbook onto the desk and begins flipping through the pages.

I glance at the drawings on the pages. They're cartoonish drawings of people and cats. Lots of cats. They're not that good, but they seem entertaining.

"Can you not be so noisy?" I whisper before looking back at my notebook.

"You enjoy detention or something?" He asks me with a snort.

"No talking!" The teacher shouts sternly.

I glance over at the guy, but he's already got his attention on his drawings, so I don't respond to him.