Misery

.1.

Misery's POV

Another boring day here in Westfield. Go bulldogs. Actually I really do want to go to school today. I have a free hour for second block. I plan on taking a nap. At least one good thing comes from today.
'And maybe even my beatings won't be too bad.' I thought as I laughed to myself.

I get up and go to the shower, I rub my body raw with winter berry body wash. I wash my hair with my volume and shine maximizing shampoo and conditioner. I feel good but these scars say other wise.

I touch each one, each time bringing a memory I wish not to see. I rap some bandages around my freshly cut wrist and my battered torso. it's their fault my torso is purple. the beatings never cease to ease.

I glance at the clock only to see I'm running behind. I quickly put a long sleeve t-shirt with black skinny jeans. I run to the kitchen to cook breakfast before my morning beatings from my mother, father, brother, and sister.

I cook my 'family' a gourmet breakfast like always and grab a poptart. that's all I get for my breakfast, ever. I go upstairs to the attic and pull on my sneakers. my purple eyes glazed over with tears at the picture that's on my nightstand (tall box).

It was me as a baby in my mothers arms. it's the only picture I have of my family happy. I hear a bell ring and run to the window to see who it was. oh great, my brothers best friend, Arron. he was attractive but he hated me. I go to open the door for him.

"Hello misery, where is your brother?" He says with malice dripping off his voice when he said my name.

"He's asleep, would you like me to go get your breakfast on a plate and then go get him for you?" I said, scared out of my wits, because if he is here I get an extra beating.

"Yes, no go fetch my breakfast and maybe your beating won't be so painful this morning." he said, amusement in his eyes. looking at me with a malicious grin on his handsome face.

"Yes sir. I will. if you do not like this mornings meal, I will make something for you." I said, looking down at my feet.

"What is the meal this morning?" He says. genuinely curious.

"Waffles, fruit, pancakes, biscuits with jam, bacon, sausage, Ham, and milk, various juices, and soda if you would like. did you hear anything that interests you?" I say, scratching my slit wrist.

"Yes, all of it, two of everything, and also I want eggs." he said.

"Yes sir." I go to fix his eggs and plate. After I do that he sits at the table ready to be served. "would you like milk or juice?"

"Milk." he states in between well mannered bites.

"Of course. I will fetch your milk and then wake my brother for you." I say. it's my normal language because I am practically a servant. I fetch his milk and then set it on the counter. I need to take the bandages off my wrist, they have scabbed over already I can feel it.

I go to give him his milk without rolling my sleeves back down. he sees my scars on my wrist and looks at me. he asks something I never thought he would ask, "why?"