Bruises Book Novels & Stories

No signs of internal bleeding and no clotting in the veins that could result in pulmonary distress later. Damien didn’t take his eyes off her. He looked at every small or large dark blue bruise on her skin. Her arms had fingertip marks in sets of four. The broken rib area had a large blue bruise with some purple in it. Multiple cuts on her hip that she explained was from a ring on his finger that cut during punches.

She was still conscious, but when she tried to lift her arm, it just wouldn't budge. "Hey, wait a minute. This isn't normal," Prince Marcellus said all of sudden, crouching near Scarlett. He placed a hand on her leg and rubbed a bruise that was now dark blue. "This is very rare, but not impossible," he said, as he analyzed the bruise more carefully. Being so close to him made Scarlett shudder instinctively. She had spent so much time imagining how she'd fight his kind, and now he was inspecting her rash as if she were a codex to be deciphered.

Don't go there, Way. Her nails scratch on the file as she moves the cuff of her billowy shirt sleeves to her elbows as she bows her head to take a better look at the data in the file. When she leans closer to my hand, I can't help but trace my eyes at the delicateness of her fingers. My eyes follow the motion of her pulling her sleeves upwards, exposing her bare skin across the length of her arms. And that's when I see something strange. My eyes fall on the crimson red, pink, and black bruises sprinkled on the ends of both her elbows. When I stare at the areas of the skin discolouration closely, I see thumbprints.

Susan pulls back, moving her arms to his biceps, she asks, “what’s wrong Travis? Are you hurt?” Travis takes a breath and sighs, trying to figure out the best way to explain. “I’ll be okay. I was wearing armor so I wasn't seriously injured, but my chest is pretty bruised.” Susan grabbed the snaps on his button down shirt and pulled it open. Looking at Travis’s bruised chest, already a rainbow of colors, Susan gasps. The bruising looked similar to a bullseye pattern with irregular shaped rings moving out from the darker purple center. Looking at the bruising and realizing what Travis said about armor, it clicked in Susan’s brain and she asked quietly, “were you shot?”

He evidently underestimated me, and that only speared more fear into him. “Señora Cruz, esto es todo un malentendido.” (Mrs Cruz, this is just a misunderstanding.) He begged, blood and saliva pouring from his mouth. His face was marred with black and blue bruises. Lumps had formed along his cheekbone, eyes and jaw. I admired the handy work of Luis. He had definitely done a good job. Perching against the table that hosted a collection of tools. None that I recognised, apart from a knife, but the metal ends glimmered in the dim light, looking just as murderous as the bearer.

My hand drifted absentmindedly over my thigh, expecting the familiar stab of pain - But it wasn’t there. I frowned and sat up a little, sliding the skirt aside to look properly. The bruise that had wrapped around my knee - deep purple three days ago - was now only a faint yellow smear. I pressed my fingertips gently along my shin - where walking from the academy had felt like knives under my skin -

“I will do whatever that requires.” I hold her gaze. Then I reach across the table and wrap my hand briefly around her wrist in the way you do when words are not the right size for what you mean. She goes very still. And that is when I see it. Along the inside of her wrist, yellowing at the edges, almost gone but not quite. A bruise. Old enough to be fading. Fresh enough to still be there. I do not ask about it. Not today. But I look at it for one moment and I file it in the place where I keep the things I do not yet understand but will not let myself forget.

The bruises stood out starkly against his skin, telling a silent story of violence that seemed completely at odds with Evan’s gentle nature. “Do you... um...” Millie stammered, her mind racing with questions. “Um... Let me put some ice on that,” she offered, her voice filled with concern. What could have happened to cause those bruises?

She was now looking in the mirror trying to look presentable when she noticed that her forehead had formed a bruise where the book had hit her, no wonder it hurts more. Her skin was the type which bruises easily and that's one of the reasons why her grandma always prevent her from doing any possibly harmful chores. She walked away from the mirror sighing and made her way into the dining room.Only Ace and his two friends were at the table and they were sitting next to each other on the right side so she went to the left side and took the first seat. She just wanted to sit close to her dad, she knew he always sat at the head-chair.

I ask showing he rthe bruise cream I am holding in my hand. "Nope. I just arrived you know." she says shaking her head. "Who could it be then?" I say looking down at it . "Just use it. Don't think too much." she says and I decide to heed her advice. The rest of the semester is overtaken with small incidents like someone taking my books to hide and then later returning them, another incident is when someone tries to prank me with glue in my chair but somehow I survive when someone slams a book on the seat. All this small incidents point at the fact that someone seems to be protecting me from the shadows but I really don't want to get my hopes up.