1985

S i x t e e n

Chapter 16;   Bruises

Thursday January 24, 1985
Scarsdale, NY
*trigger warning violence ahead proceed with caution*

There was a smile on my lips as I walked out of Deans car and walked up the driveway of my house, but of course that smile quickly faded as the red Porsche came to sight. Fuck.

I picked up the pace and walked into my house. I ran up the stairs quickly. I stop in front of my bedroom door contemplating whether I should walk in or turn back around hoping I could still catch Dean.

But alas I opened the door and there he was sitting on my bed with a gold heart shaped locket in his hands.

  "Where'd you get this from?" He asks me

  "My Nana gave me it for my birthday last year." I set my bag down on the floor of my bedroom.

He looks away from me shakes his head "last year for your birthday your Nana Rose gave you that gold Cartier watch that you never take off"

Sometimes he makes me want to sit in the corner and cry.

"Fine, Dean gave me it"

"Why does someone who's just a friend give you a heart shaped locket, Amber" I can see he's getting angry with me

"We were at a consignment store and I don't know we played a game where we had to get each other stuff"

I was having a hard time forming phrases, like anything that came out of my mouth would cause him to explode at me. The same way he always had, punching walls, braking mirrors, finding new lies to explain new bruises or markings made on my skin.

He tossed the locket across my room. He gets up from my bed quickly and paces through my room causing me to back up into my bedroom door.

My heart was racing and my palms felt sweaty. I know exactly what's coming next.

"Don't lie to me!" he screams.

"I'm not lying!" My eyes squeeze shut as I see a book colliding with the wall next to me

My eyes widen "you're insane what if that hit me you fucking psycho!" He tries to come at me but I just run away from him. I tried opening the door but he just grabbed onto me and tossed me onto my bed. He throws another book at me that hits my shoulder, hard. and he continues to throw book after book all around my bedroom.

"I'm a psycho at least I'm not a slut who sleeps with every random guy that comes your way" he growls

At this point I was full on sobbing.

"Get out! Leave!"

I try getting up once again but I'm met with his fist colliding with my cheek.

I feel the numbing pain on the right side of my face with my shaking hand. Tears stream down my face.

"Baby, I'm sorry" he collapses at my feet and I can't bring myself to say anything.

"Please, I didn't mean to, you know I love you, it just it makes me so angry to think you're with someone else" now he was the one in tears. "I'm so sorry"

"I think I want to be alone right now" I stare blankly at the wall I front of me

"I love you" he says quietly

"Yeah"

He leaves my room slamming the door behind him.

As soon as I hear his car leave the driveway I run downstairs to grab a frozen bag of peas so I don't get swelling.

"Ouch" I winced at the pain on my cheek, my vision starts to blur as the tears spill.

Why do I always forgive him. He loves me, or so he says. Someone who loves you doesn't hurt you. Someone who loves doesn't cause you pain. Someone who loves you doesn't leave you bloody and bruised. But no matter how much he says he loves or how much he hurts me I can't seem to stay away.

It's not like I could tell anyone, who would believe me. It would just be my word against his. What's the point of going through being called a liar or an attention seeker. No one would believe me. No one would believe me.

Not even with the bruises as proof.

My thoughts are interrupted but the front door of the house opening.

"I'm home" billy calls out

He walks into the kitchen and stares blankly at me holding a bag of frozen peas to my face.

"What happened to you?" He asks me

I hesitate for a second trying to come up with a buyable excuse. "I walked into a door"

Why couldn't I just tell him the truth.

"Okayyy, well I'll be in the guest house if you need me."

I walk back upstairs and grab the gold locket that was laying on the floor and clutch the cold metal tightly in my hands.

I'm tired of lying.