Honey eyes

Tragic

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This chapter's song is:
Afraid by The Neighbourhood

I'm hiding in my bedroom closet.

Dad came home drunk again, and he keeps calling for me, stumbling around the house holding an empty beer bottle. This has happened enough times for me to know not to go to him. If he finds me, no matter what I do, I'm going to end up in bed, unable to get comfortable because my body has so many bruises that every position hits one of the bruises in the exact way that is painful. All I can hope for right now is that he'll fall asleep on the couch and forget all of this when he wakes up to go to work tomorrow. He'll forget that he was going to beat his son senseless, that he was going to yell and yell and yell, that he was going to grab his belt, that he was going to smash plates and destroy glasses. He'll just forget it, and I'll be safe for another day. Until I come home from school.

I wake up the next morning, still in my closet, next to the piles of clothes that I never wear anymore and boxes of old sketchbooks. I get up and put on the first shirt I find, careful not to make too much noise. My body aches from being stuffed into the corner of my closet, but it's better than the bruises. I carefully open the closet door and step out, grabbing my backpack as I do.

I make my downstairs, avoiding the stairs that creak so as not to wake up my dad, who is sleeping on the couch next to a table crowded by beer bottles and wine glasses.

I go outside and lock the door behind me.

I trudge over to the backyard where I keep my bike, next to the dead, shriveled up, roses my mom tried to grow over the summer. I take the bike to the sidewalk and hop on.

I got this bike last year, from my best friend, Bill. He saw that I had to wake up at 5 am just to get to school on time by walking and ended up getting me the bike for my birthday. I tried to say that it was too much, and that I didn't even need a birthday gift, but he refused to let me give it back. It's helpful, of course, I just feel bad that he had to spend money on me. I don't have enough money to get him anything good, but I'm saving up this year to buy him a small guitar at the music shop we visit from time to time, just to listen to the music playing there.

Bill is great, and I couldn't have asked for a better friend, which is why I wish we got to hang out more. We used to all the time, but once he started dating Stan, we haven't been able to talk much out of school. I glad he's happy though, I'd rather him be happy than me, he deserves it, and I shouldn't be whining over something as small as that. I wish I had access to something to remind myself of that but I don't, so I end up just pinching my thigh hard enough to leave a mark. Bill hates that I do things like that to hurt myself, but I need to do it or else I get out of line and make mistakes.

I end up making it to class on time and sit down in the back of the class. Not because I don't enjoy class, just because I don't want anyone to stare at the back of my head. At the front of the class is Stanley Uris (Bill's new partner), Ben Hanscom, Patrick Hockstetter, and a girl I don't know the name of.

I wouldn't be surprised if they all had A's in this class, they're notoriously known as the smart kids. I have an A too, but I just got lucky. This class is mostly group assignments and I'm sure I wouldn't have an A if it weren't for that.

Thank goodness for smart people.