The one without a name

Chapter 2

Warning - more bloody scenes

Health concern

Concentrating during a lecture is hard when your body won't stop protesting in pain. It's even harder when your getting weird looks from having a bruised and bloody face.

So many people have actually asked me if "I'm okay" and "what happened", and I'm not sure I like the paparazzi.

I have been trying to hide beneath my hoodie, but that's also hard when teachers constantly remind me about the no hoodies policy. You'd think they'd let you slide by with all this extra glory, but when I protested to my math teacher, she simply told me it "wasn't her fault I looked like this."

Hell, this isn't my fault either yet look how I'm dealing with it. So when I got to gym class, I only had to look at Mr. Waller for him to know I couldn't handle the activity for today. I wonder if he thinks I'm purposely getting hurt, just so I could sit out.

But in all honesty, I love gym. It's the one class I get to move around and be a little social with Kendra. Hell I even love playing dodgeball, not that I get to play that often due to all the beatings I endure from David.

Scurrying home from the bus stop was a pain in my left ass cheek, all the bruises finally vouching for my body and mind, telling me they've had enough.

So when I reach my driveway, I groan when I see David's car sitting smack dab in the middle. But when I enter the house, he looks up from the couch, but doesn't move towards me.

The only acknowledgment I receive is a few simple words. 5 little words that hardly hit me due to all the disgusting comments he's thrown at me over the years. "Your a piece of shit."

Instead of responding, instead of flicking him off like I so badly wanted, I avoid eye contact and scurry up to my room. I sit down at my desk, confused as to why he didn't hurt me or so anything more.

So I'm not surprised when I hear a pounding on my door, and I silently curse when I remember I never locked my door. Just as I stand up and turn around, David comes barreling towards me after harshly opening the door, and immediately goes for my neck and chocking me in the same spot from yesterday.

He then tosses me onto the bed and smacks my cheek, then smacks me again, and again, and again. He then punches my stomach with a force like no other, and I let out a cry of pain followed along by a coughing fit.

He stands up and I expect another hit, but he steps back. "The school called you little fucker. You were supposed to keep a low profile!" he yells at me as he lifts his foot and smashed my face into the bedding.

Luckily, the mattress slows the decent, and the outcome isn't nearly as bad as it would be on a hard floor. But he knows that, and so he keeps his foot behind my skull, pushing my face in till it's suffocating me. I scream and start pounding on the bed before roughly trying to pry his foot off me.

He only chuckles and pushes harder, and I continue to squirm and fight for oxygen but he never lets loose. So I start sobbing and counting, praying to God he doesn't kill me.

But 32 seconds in, right before I think I'm about to pass out, he removes his foot and I suck in as much air as my lungs will allow. After catching my breath, I glare up at him and wait for him to hurt me more.

He scrunched his upper lip while staring into the distance, before looking me in the eye. "They are concerned about your health. They want you to take it easy on boxing cause it's effecting your academics."

He takes a step closer and motions for me to stand up. I almost say no, but decide it will only hurt me more if I continue sitting. So I stand up and look him right in the eye.