Thanks [b]jeremiah, m14, and FIREBLUEGURL13[/b] for the feedback! hehe:) This next part is dedicated to you 3.
Part 2
I wipe at my tears angerly (?) and stand up. Not again, I'm not going to cry again. I wince and I can feel the cuts are starting to scab. I walk slowly to the bathroom and shut the door, looking into the mirror. I have a gash above my right eyebrow, a shiner on my left cheekbone and a bruise under my chin. My face has lost all color these past 3 years and I look worn. I peel off my uniform and turn the shower on, stepping under the scalding hot water. I try to scrub off all of my memories, wanting to start over.
I run my hand down my arm, over the needle scars and the cuts. That's my escape. Ever since I lost my baby. I was pregnant.....we were so happy, until I got into the car accident. I had a miscarridge and I lost my baby boy. Kyle blamed me.....that's when he started the drinking and drugs. He came home every night drunk and high. He hit me and kicked me until I passed out from the pain. I woke up in our bed and he kept saying he was sorry. He handed me flowers and I forgave him. But that wasn't the last time.
It became a routine, then I started with the drugs.....first cocaine, then heroin. It helped numb the pain sometimes. People started noticing. Kyle got fired and I was the only one working. The money mostly went towards drugs and booze. And the abuse got worse. But I didn't leave him, I couldn't. He told me that he was the only one who would ever love me. Even my father doesn't love me. He beat me too. That's why we live in Roswell, New Mexico. Kyle always told me that he brought me here to start a family and to get away from my abusive father. But it's the same. Only this time I have nowhere to run, no one to talk to and no one to save me.
I turn off the shower and step out, wrapping a single towel around me and I crawl into bed. I drift off to sleep, dreaming up my savior who would one day take me away. Or at least out of the cockroach infested apartment.
Part 2
I wipe at my tears angerly (?) and stand up. Not again, I'm not going to cry again. I wince and I can feel the cuts are starting to scab. I walk slowly to the bathroom and shut the door, looking into the mirror. I have a gash above my right eyebrow, a shiner on my left cheekbone and a bruise under my chin. My face has lost all color these past 3 years and I look worn. I peel off my uniform and turn the shower on, stepping under the scalding hot water. I try to scrub off all of my memories, wanting to start over.
I run my hand down my arm, over the needle scars and the cuts. That's my escape. Ever since I lost my baby. I was pregnant.....we were so happy, until I got into the car accident. I had a miscarridge and I lost my baby boy. Kyle blamed me.....that's when he started the drinking and drugs. He came home every night drunk and high. He hit me and kicked me until I passed out from the pain. I woke up in our bed and he kept saying he was sorry. He handed me flowers and I forgave him. But that wasn't the last time.
It became a routine, then I started with the drugs.....first cocaine, then heroin. It helped numb the pain sometimes. People started noticing. Kyle got fired and I was the only one working. The money mostly went towards drugs and booze. And the abuse got worse. But I didn't leave him, I couldn't. He told me that he was the only one who would ever love me. Even my father doesn't love me. He beat me too. That's why we live in Roswell, New Mexico. Kyle always told me that he brought me here to start a family and to get away from my abusive father. But it's the same. Only this time I have nowhere to run, no one to talk to and no one to save me.
I turn off the shower and step out, wrapping a single towel around me and I crawl into bed. I drift off to sleep, dreaming up my savior who would one day take me away. Or at least out of the cockroach infested apartment.