Bruises Book Novels & Stories

I curse at the sudden pain. “This isn’t funny and it most definitely doesn’t make you cool” I say, my hand on my side, trying to ease the pain. Its almost healed but that doesn’t mean it can’t still hurt. “Oh yeah? Well I find it really fucking funny” He says turning my head, roughly. “What happened there huh?” He looks at the fading bruise. The makeup must have rubbed off. I pull my arm out of his grip, dropping my book in attempt to get someone’s attention.

I gulped down the lump in my throat, as I stared down at the image with my mouth trembling in fear. Reaching the book, I flipped it to the next page, revealing a more shocking truth. The image before me was a woman that has a mark on her body, it was like the bruise gotten from animal claws, but now everything is becoming clear, it isn't an animal but a vampire.

The doctor examined, “Your bones are fine, but you had bruises all over your back, put a warm towel on it before you sleep, then apply some medicine. You must apply it on time so there won’t be any scars.” Henry saw the bruises on her back, he could not hold it and walked over. He squinted his eyes, with a cold murderous intent crossed his lips, “Those two b*stard.” A normal person would have been screaming in pain with these bruises, but she never said a word about it since the beginning. It was heartbreaking when he thought about it.

Chapter 26 – Letter Demi’s POV “Mama is okay Belle, so stop crying now.” I looked at the pair of mother and daughter on the living room couch. I don’t know exactly when this scene is happening, but from the woman’s bruise, I’d say 5 to 10 days. The bruise was yellowish with green and was located right under the woman’s left eye. “You don’t have to cry anymore.” The woman said, it was then that a boy entered the balcony with books in hand.

I saw the way his gaze perused over me, no doubt seeing if my injures were healing. I still had quite a few ugly bruises all over my body, but the biggest one was on the back of my side. The rest had faded a bit, except for that one. It covered most of my side and was a deep dark purple. I had cringed when I saw it. I still had some swelling and bruising, on my face. As much as I wished Skye could heal me so I could get back to a semblance of feeling normal, I understood why she couldn’t.

I sighed and let go of the edge of the sheet, removing it from my legs, leaving only a piece on my thighs. The doctor's face didn't change, but what I saw took my breath away. Everything that came into my field of vision was purplish blue. Dirty yellow spots of bruises came out in places, but the bulk of the monstrous beatings remained frightening colors. There were healed scratches on his knees, on his fingers too, there was blood under the nails, and on his right wrist it looked like someone's imprint. Under the chest, a medical plaster stood out as a snow-white rectangle.

How wild did they have to be? The bruises stretched from his ribs to his back. The old ones were fading. and newer ones had the purple and black shade. And the scars were revolting. I could tell they were belt handles and sticks, or maybe rods. I clenched my jaw so hard, it started to hurt. Dr. Reyes documented everything, working carefully. Occasionally she looked my way and blinked her eyes to remain professional. I didn't want to see more. I was losing my mind, and my temper.

His ears rang sharply—high, shrill—like a gunshot had gone off right beside his head. For one terrifying second, he couldn’t breathe. Air refused to enter his lungs. His chest locked, panic clawing up his throat. It was as if his body had turned against him, dragging every injury from a week ago back to the surface. Bruises screamed. Muscles burned. Half-healed wounds tore open inside him, pain stacking upon pain until it was almost unbearable. Something hit the floor at his feet. A book. It landed with a dull, mocking thud. Fuck! Who the hell—

Beatrice says with a small smile. “I kinda like him too but now is not the time.” I say as she helps me remove the rest of my ripped clothing. “Holy shit.” She says when she gets a full look at me. Bruises cover almost all of my skin. The ones around my neck, hips and legs are in distinctive finger shapes. Blood adorns my thighs, lower abdomen and butt cheeks along with all the places they cut me with knives and their claws.

I found proper hair brushes and combs in the middle drawer. I look worse than I did last night. The black-blue bruises cover almost every inch of my face and neck. My bottom lip is twice its normal size. The deep gash keeps opening back up, spilling blood down my chin. It will heal. It always does. My arms are heavy, and every time I move them, they scream in pain. Especially my right arm. The one I used to hit Bruce. The memory flashes and I groan when I remember the dull crack of his skull, the warm blood spilling over my hand, the copper scent that permeated the air.