SILENT CRIES.

One.

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~

Another day in the life of Iman Thompson. Another failed attempt on taking her life. Another attempt on trying to run away. To say she was tired of this routine was an understatement. Tired of being beat up, spoken down on and having to deal with her traumas all by herself, yet, still walk around with a smile on her face.

Her biggest worry; making sure she didn't run out of foundation and concealer. What's hidden isn't known, right? Shouting, even whispering for help would do more harm than good. He had ears everywhere.

It's one thing to hide physical bruises and pain, but it all came down to the person she looked at in the mirror, if she liked what she saw, or the life she lived.

As usual, she creeped into the run down house, trying her hardest not to wake him up. On most days she'd succeed but today wasn't one of them.

"Is this the time to come back home?" His voice boomed through the dark hallway.

It was her stepfather Kevin. Kevin Santana. Notorious drug dealer here in the hood. The reason she wanted to die. To be nonexistent. He took the life out of her. Her fear forced her to remain silent and she avoided looking his direction.

"You ain't gon' say sum?" He stood up from the rocking chair with the Hennessy bottle in his hand.

Iman squirmed, ducking him, even though he hadn't been physical... yet.

"I'm s- sorry. I was at the library." She stuttered in fear.

"I mean, I provide for you. Make sure ya school fees is paid, give you a lil pocket money here and there and you still outta line?"

The only thing he was right about, he did provide for her. That's the only reason she stayed so long; he was her financial aid. Drug dealing, gangs... they all got him paid.

One thing she couldn't fathom was the death of her mother. Iman watched him overdose her mother on heroine; another victim of his domestic violence.

"It won't happen again, I just—" she was sent flying into the couch from his hard slap, making her ball her eyes out.

"Get up." He said.

Iman sobbed painfully as she held onto her cheek.

"GET THE FUCK UP !"

She quickly stood up, holding tight onto her bag.

"If you wanna act grown, go on and get ya own place!"

Iman went down the hallway and into her room. On most days there was no electricity but she had gotten used to it. She threw her bag on the floor, screaming into a pillow before getting a quick grip.

"Why'd you stay with this man, Mami..." she said, looking at the picture of her once happy and healthy mother.

Her thick hair was silk pressed in the black and white photo, and her gorgeous smile was as big as the sun.

"I'm suffering without you..." Iman softly said as she cried again, holding onto her childhood teddy bear.

As usual, she locked her door to keep away from Santana and cried herself to sleep.

~

Next morning...

Iman was woken up by heavy bangs on the door. She looked up to check the time and shot up after realizing she was late for school.

"Iman you better unlock this door before I take your last bit of privacy away, shit." Santana said. She could tell he had already started drinking.

She hurried up and got ready for school, putting on her favorite tie dye tracksuit since it was cloudy, and tied her hair up. She looked at herself in the mirror, noticing the visible blue and red bruises all over her face.

"Shit," she mumbled to herself before loosening her hair and wearing a cap. She didn't have time to hide them with makeup so she figured she'd do it at school.

Iman got her book bag and took a deep breath before walking out.

"All yo lazy ass do is sleep, you ain't notice it's a school day?" He raised his voice, not even caring about the marks on her face.

"Sorry."

"You better stop all that apologizing and get outta here, damn!" Santana growled while smoking a blunt, blowing the smoke in her face, making her cough a little.

She walked out the house and ran to the bus stop.

~

She ran into the school building, rushing to the bathrooms but because she was so late, the hallways and corridors were packed as students went their different ways.

Iman never really had friends. She didn't want people asking too many questions. She did, however, have bullies. You know how it goes, the mean girls trio that every school had. Her school had Brooklyn, Macy and Bri. Always making fun of her being a loner, accused of being a drug addict and sometimes even a prostitute. It definitely got to her because that's how her mother died, but she ignored them. Or at least tried to.

"Excuse me," she walked in between people.

"Move, please!" She got frustrated, earning looks from a few jocks and other girls.

She finally got out of the crowd, mugging the people that laughed at her.

"Aye! Watch where you're going." The guy said as some of his drink spilled in his hand.

She had bumped into another person but this time, a smoothie, or protein shake, whatever it was, landed on her sweater. Her favorite sweater.

"S-sorry," she panicked, clearly disoriented from all the commotion.

Out of all the people she had passed, he caught a glimpse of her very beautiful, but bruised face. Iman noticed that he was staring too hard so she titled her head to hide her face.

"You know what, it's all good. You good?" He held onto her arm.

"Yeah, yeah..." she said before dashing into the bathrooms, leaving the guy standing there. He intently watched her run off.

"Let's go, B." Macy said. She obviously had a little thing for him even though he'd only been here for about 3 weeks.

"Whatchu lookin' at her raggedy ass for? We don't associate with junkies." Bri interrupted, making him awkwardly smile, still curious about Iman.