January 20, 2001

"YOU BITCH! YOU STUPID BITCH! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU CRYING? GET UP!" He yelled at me. He was so loud that I was sure that they heard him over at the police station across town. But they didn't. I was on the floor blood dripping down my nose and onto the white tile floor, tears pouring down my face as he yelled some more.

"DAMN IT I SAID GET UP! LOOK AT YOU YOU'RE PATHETIC! YOU'RE GETTING BLOOD ALL OVER FLOOR! NOW GET THE HELL UP!" He grabbed me by my hair and yanked me up, tilting my head so I was looking up at him.

I got my green eyes and my scars from him and everything else from my mom. My black hair, my slightly tan skin, the four freckles on me left cheek. He slapped me across the same cheek causing a wave of pain of surge through the left side of my face.

The whole time I was quiet. This wasn't the first time he had done this and it wasn't going to be the last. But what he did next changed so much.

He slapped me again and pulled on my hair. Then he threw me across the room. I could see the old tv set that sat on the floor and I knew that's where I was headed but everything happened to fast for me to do anything. But I tried to break my fall anyway. I blacked out after I hit the tv. When I woke up my dad was gone, I was covered in my own blood and my arm was elbow deep in a broken tv set.

Fear hit me like a semi-truck. I slowly pulled my arm out to see how bad it was and almost passed out. It was bad, really really bad. My arm was practically cut into ribbons. There were gashes all around my arm with pieces of glass stuck in them. It was completely covered in blood. My arm was completely numb, I felt nothing and was so grateful but I knew eventually it would hurt like hell.

I got up from the floor and staggered over to the counter. From there I walked over to my room and turned on the light. I grabbed a towel from the floor and lightly wrapped it around my arm. Then I grabbed one of my jackets and draped it over the towel. After I slipped on my slippers and grabbed a dollar from my dresser and headed to the one place that I knew I'd be able to go.

I don't remember getting there or what happened after I arrived. I only know what he told me. He is my best friend Michel. At the time he was thirteen I was only twelve.

"Max, Max c'mon wake up will ya." He was standing over me with a scared expression on his face.

"I made it?"

"Barely. You passed out at the door, scared the crap out of me."

Then I notice my arm felt like it was on fire. I looked over, it was wrapped in gauze all the way up to my shoulder.

"It took me forever to get all the glass out and stitch you up but I did it. Here take these." he handed me two pills and a glass of water. "Your arm is gonna start hurting. I swiped these from my sister's job."

I sat up and took the pills. "Thanks."

"You could have died."

"Stop."

"I serious, you really scared me. Maybe you should..."

"Don't. I only came here because I needed help if you're gonna lecture me then I'll, I'll..."

"You'll what? Do it yourself?"

"If I have to."

I looked at him and he looked terrified. "Fine."

"Fine?"

"I'll make you a promise. I promise I'll let you make all the decisions about this and I won't lecture you and I'll take care of you if you promise not to scare me again. Don't let it get this bad again. Ok?"

"I promise."

"Me too. Now get some rest, I still have to clean up."

With that I went back to sleep as Michel went out to clean up.