My eyes snapped open, my subconscious bleeding away into the darkness as I woke up. My werewolf hearing enables me to pick up the sound of something shattering in the other room followed by my mom’s muffled scream as it echoes down the tiny hall to my room. Half asleep I reached for my phone on the bedside table, fumbling around something fell to the ground. The screen lit up and told me it was an hour before sunrise.
The fun was starting.
A door slammed announcing their arrival next door. Something exploded against the wall to my left, my instincts kicked in and I covered my head as I ducked. My eyes were squeezed shut and I gritted my teeth as I dropped my hands and straightened my back. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat and tried to focus on the rain splattering against my window sill.
I lowered myself until I was laying flat on the bed. The silence in my room was chased from the room as angry voiced bounced off the walls, down the hall, and slip beneath my door. My room is filled with the sound of my heart pounding in my ears and my heavy breathing. Just when I think things are finally calming down after a few minutes of silence. It’s interrupted by his angry shouting followed by my mom’s sobbing. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve woken up to their fighting in the middle of the night.
When I was little, her crying made me frantic. My hands would shake and I would wet the bed as a child. There had been nights where I would pluck up the courage to turn the door handle and take my first step out into the hallway. Somehow I placed one foot in front of the other making my way down the hallway. I would run up to her and throw myself on top of her and wrap my arms around her.
The image of child me trying to take on the role of parent to my mother. It was her job to protect me from him, not my job to protect her from him. I had been a stupid child. It took years of taking his beating for her, countless hospital visits just to watch her lie to the doctors, and begging her to leave him before I realized it was pointless. The begging, the pleading, the fighting was useless.
My mother would never leave him. She cared more about him and his needs than she did herself. She put him before me. Fast forward to the present, teenage me lays numbly in bed cloaked in darkness listening to her plead with her boyfriend to stop. The reasons for his abuse never made sense. That or they didn’t matter.
Sometimes it would be because she took too long to get his drinks from the store, or it was because she said the wrong thing, other times it was because he was having a bad day. I chuckled sourly to myself. There were days it was because of me and the fact that I wasn’t his. It was on those days he would come looking for me. He would bang on my door and- I shake my head and push those thoughts from my mind. That wasn’t today and I wouldn’t visit that hell if I didn’t have to.
The loud sound of his hand meeting her skin resounds. My mom cries and I bite my lip until the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth. I already know what’s going to happen if I go out there. It’s happened so many fucking times before that it plays in front of me like a movie. I’ll help her, he’ll beat me, and maybe break a few bones. When he fells better and leaves me alone, she’ll give me medicine and help me shower. Just when I think I’ve gotten through to her, I’ll beg her to leave and she’ll look me in the eye and say no. She’ll leave me alone, bruised, and broken. So no, I won’t go out there. I refuse to move, I refuse to run to her rescue, I refuse to take the beatings for her, and I refuse to cry over her rejection and this goddess-damned abuse. I refuse to ever be like her. I’ll never mark or let a man mark me unless he can prove to be the very opposite of Greg.
My dad passed away shortly after I was born. I was too young to have any memories of him or be sad about his death. Growing up I thought about him, wondered about him, and had questions. Every time I would ask my mom about him she would get this look in her eyes. I’ve never seen her look at Greg with that look. As a young child, I didn’t like it when my mom would cry and I didn’t like being the reason she was so sad. I decided to stop asking and accepted that it was just me and her.
Despite my father’s passing, I grew up loved and taken care of. As a little girl, she would tell me it was me and her against the world. I didn’t have to worry about anything because I had her. I didn’t need anyone else but her so I tucked the word dad away and never thought about him. And it was just me and her against the world until it wasn’t.
I don’t really know what my father looked like and looking at my features I couldn’t see him. I looked a lot like my mom. She’s slender and tall, has straw-colored hair that falls just below her chin and brown eyes. They were once vibrant and full of life but now they’re dull from years of living in a loveless abusive relationship. She had practically copy and pasted when she had me. I have long silky blonde hair and big brown eyes. Sometimes I can see flecks of gold in my eyes. The only difference between us is that I only stand an inch over five feet. While the woman on my mom’s side had slender figures, I was curvier, thicker, and my large breasts and fat ass always caught unwanted attention. My face was a little round and I was always mistaken for being younger than my actual age. My mom always towered over me and Greg, my mom’s boyfriend. He was shorter than her but bulkier than her and definitely stronger than me. He could throw me across the room effortlessly. Trust me, I know,
The first bell rings and I hurry to get my shirt over my head and pull the material down over my belly. I step into my jeans and I go to war with them as I struggle to pull them over my curves. When I win I button and pull up the zipper before stepping in front of one of the mirrors. The first thing I see is the light brown freckles that litter my nose and spread gently across my cheeks. The bags under my eyes are impossible to notice but my lips are light pink and plump. Disgusted with my appearance, I huff and throw my hair up in a messy bun and turn from my reflection. I grab my backpack and rush to class. When I get to my hallway, I take a deep breath to calm myself and pull my shoulders back. No one knows about my home situation and I’ve worked hard to ensure no one finds out about it. Kids are rushing to class while others are taking their time. When I get to my class, the door is still open and I sigh in relief as I walk in. Most of my classmates are seated but my teacher isn’t
Levi is muscular and has long silver blonde hair that he tries back. His brown eyes sparkle like he thinks something’s funny but doesn’t want to share what it is. He has dimples that poke out on both cheeks when he smiles but he doesn’t smile as much as he did when we were kids. He’s gotten paler since we were kids. I remember a young tan dirty blonde hair but now, his skin is fair and his hair is silver blonde. I can feel his eyes on me and I’m glad I didn’t turn around. I can already see the satisfied smirk on his face if he caught me starting at him. He thinks everyone likes him and I don’t want to fan his ego. Whatever it is between us is weird. We don’t talk anymore but I know him and he knows me. He’s close but distant. Liz thinks he has this secret crush on me but if that were true he would have made a move already. And if he were to try and make a move now it would be pointless. I’m taken now. I started dating Dylan Cadmus this year. The only time I can’t feel Levi’s eyes on
Before I can ask him about about why he’s in my hall when his second period is across campus, he leans down. Before I can say anything, he pressed his lips against mine. I kiss him back but when his tongue darts out and slides across the front of my teeth I realize he wants me to give him access. He nudges his nose against mine impatiently and I let him in. His tongue finds mine and our lips part lightly. My eyes dart to Levi and I see him watching us. I avoid his gaze and break our kiss as my cheeks flush. I turn around to face Dylan and turning my back on Levi. I let my eyes roam down his body and take in his tight fitted white t-shirt and his dark blue jeans. His brunette hair is a little unruly but I like it when it’s like that. I look into his baby blue eyes and my breath hitched. He’s angry. “Why haven’t you answered my texts?” Dylan asked. “I’m sorry baby. I haven’t checked my phone all day. I had to rush to school this morning because… When I got to class i was out of breat
“I’m taking you out after school,” Dylan said proudly. “Oh are you?” I asked. “Yes,” he said confidently. “We have homework, Dylan!” I laughed. I love it when he’s happy. His smile, his proud walk, everything about him made my world brighter. Before Dylan, the only other person I had in my life was Liz. I love her to death and she is enough but there’s something about having someone love me that made everything better. Dylan loved me and cared about me. Love. Dylan. Both were amazing. It wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows but growing up with Greg happy days were hard to come back. When I lost Levi I felt so alone. Knowing that Dylan was my person made everything shitty about my life at home bearable. My calculus class comes into view and I only have a few more steps to take until I’m there. I don’t see it coming, I don’t see him, I don’t see anything but a blinding white light as it blinds my vision. He moved so fast. One second I’m walking to class and the next I’m flying. My ba
I’m fine. I’m blowing things out of proportion. I’m fine. I’m being a little dramatic because of what happened this morning. I start making up excuses about what happened until I start to feel better. I finish up my homework due tomorrow. When the bell rings I pack up my stuff and walk to my locker. I put my stuff into my locker. It’s easier when I leave my stuff here overnight. That way, Greg can’t rip it up or I don’t forget it if I have to rush out like this morning. I’ve completed what I need to turn in tomorrow so I’m good. I stuff my bag into the locker and pull my hoodie on before closing it. "Amia,” a voice called out behind me. Turning, I find a stoic Levi staring at me. I can’t recall the last time he called my name. Other than that night… I don’t think he’s talked to me in years. I fight the urge to look down his body and blatantly check him out. “Oh… hey, Levi? What’s up?” I asked. I’m confused as to why he’s talking to me. This is weird and awkward. Yeah, just keep
I don’t care what it looked like. What I did notice was that people had stopped and were staring at us. I hated being the center of attention and right now, I was the center of attention. I had the sudden urge to run. It didn’t matter where, I just needed to run. I didn’t want to hear anymore. I didn’t need to stand here and feel eyes on me while he yelled at me. It wasn’t any of his business. “Abuse. That’s what this looks like,” Levi said. He spat the words out as if they disgusted him. “I don’t have to explain anything to you, remember? We haven’t been friends in years. We haven’t spoken in years. Just because you decide to put some effort in doesn’t mean that you’re just welcome to walk back into my life and give me a lecture. I think you'vef forgotten.” “Forgotten what?” Levi asked. “You’re no one,” I hissed. “Oh, grow up, Amia! You’re acting childish! Can’t you see how much danger you’re in?” Levi yelled. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out. I tried again and st
I opened the door and climbed into his car. Dylan was so happy to see me. He leaned over and gave me a kiss. He was buzzing with excitement and it was infectious. He held my hand and sang corny love songs while he drove. I loved it when he was like this. The car ride went by quickly that way.As we pulled up to the restaurant he hopped out of the car and ran around to open my door. I smiled at him before I stepped out of the car. He wrapped a strong arm around my waist and pulled me close as we walked toward the restaurant.Valet ran forward and he threw the keys into the air. He caught it and looked at us. I smiled apologetically before we walked into the restaurant. I noticed the way the hostess’ eyebrows shot up when she saw Dylan. She ran forward and gave him a sly smile while she greeted him. I rolled my eyes as she led us to our reserved seats.“Is there… anything I can get you?” She asked Dylan. His eyes dropped to her name tag.“No, thank you, Jessica.” Her smile faltered and