RATS

CHAPTER 11

7:30. The red digits read.

And I hadn't slept a wink.

I sat up on the bed, taking the covers away from me so some air finally cooled my sweaty body. I had to shower and yet I couldn't bare the thought of accidentally catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. But I needed to, I had to cover it, I needn't questions or looks. I got that enough already.

Get the fuck up.

It's time to get ready and go to hell. Not that I had left, since now I had two. One in that hellhole they call school and another one in what's supposed to be my home. Who was I kidding? Did I seriously believe that this could be a home, for me? This was as hospitable as it was going to get, with a chair pressed against the doorknob, blocking any of the assholes around me from entering my room.

I had closed the door, and left the key in the lock, still that hadn't eased my mind for I knew that the one I truly feared wouldn't be stopped by a locked door. That lingering thought remained on my mind, no matter the times I sent it away thinking of other things, it would come back to haunt me. Every sound I heard got my eyes snapping to the door illuminated by the streetlights below the building, that gave a soft orange hue to the whole room. Droplets of sweat would run down my forehead while I clutched the sheets tight to my still clothed body.

Mind would play tricks on me, and more than once I got the sensation of delicate knocking, as if there was someone running their knuckles along the smooth wood. I convinced myself that it wasn't real, that I needed to sleep, still the single thought of the touch turning into harsh knocking kept my eyes wide open.

Deep down I knew that if he came and decided to break down the door, he would. That if he wanted to grab my hair in anger and slam my head against the desk, he would.

He could beat me till my breath was nothing but a low whistle. And when I'd lay down there, staring up at his looming shadow, what would I do? What could I?

Shaking my head, I quickly closed the door to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. I had to get my head out the gutter, the day hadn't even started yet.

...

I painfully cracked my neck from side to side, barely making my face out on the tiled wall as I brushed my tangled hair, getting rid of the few knots that remained. I was ashamed. I had left the worst for the last thinking that it would be as easy as ripping off a bandaid. But honestly, when had ripping off a bandaid been easy? That shit was hard and scary as fuck, and painful. Perhaps, that was the reason why I still hadn't turned around and busied myself arranging things around my room.

Do it. It's already fucking late and if you don't get your ass to school...

With rapid steps, I went back in the bathroom and turning on the light, I observed my frame. My toes curled as I surpassed the grey T-shit from a metal band I didn't even recognize, then came my neck and I paused at the green circles dotting my skin here and there. Something happened while I stared, every discolored patch of skin my eyes landed upon brought pain. But not psychological, like the horror I'd experienced that night. This pain was physical, the bruises still ached and hurt like a bitch, just like my foot, I'd simply been too scared to notice.

I'd gone numb into the thin line of a dream and reality. But that line was far away now, I was back in reality where half of my face was numb.

My eyes finally lifted and they connected with the hurt girl staring right back at me. Just like ripping off a bandaid, except this pain did not go away in seconds, instead it left a dull ache in my chest. I took a deep breath, my eyes remaining on my reflection. Shaky breaths left my lips in a whistle as stinging water filled my lids.