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Dear Journal,
This is supposed to be my English journal, but I don't really care. I can just use regular paper for English class right? Besides, I have more important things on my mind while I'm in English than lacking a journal. Particularly Clare Edwards. Clare is a cute, short girl with curly auburn hair and bright, sky blue eyes that I can practically feel staring at the back of my neck each day. Ever since we got paired up as partners, we became best friends, even though I've never wanted anything more in my whole life than to be able to call her mine. I know it sounds really cliché, but I honestly don't care.
One time, I remember Clare was having family issues. She texted me and asked if I wanted to hang out, and I obviously agreed. I practically speeded to her house, and she skipped over to Morty in a blue flowery day skirt. Damn, she's so cute. Anyway, we were driving and she started opening up to me about her parents and how she felt like she had to live up to her sister, Darcy. Then she started going on about how she had always felt self-conscious about her body. Darcy was constantly being called attractive and had many boyfriends, and Clare only had one, who dumped her for a blonde cheerleader. She must have called herself ugly at least nine times. While she was telling me this, I felt my heart splitting in two pieces. So, I stopped my car in some abandoned parking lot and turned down the radio. I took my hands and cupped her face and said, "Clare Edwards, you are the most beautiful person I have ever met inside and out." Her face immediately turned scarlet red, and a huge grin appeared on her face. Then I thought, damn, she probably knows I like her now, so I quickly said "besides me, of course." and she playfully hit my arm.
The truth is, telling Clare that she was beautiful made me feel like I had lifted two 400 pound weights off my shoulders. Clare is so perfect but I would never want to risk our friendship. She almost makes me forget about my dad and Trish.
Eli
I can feel the pink on my cheeks. I can't believe Eli had written about my self-esteem issues, but oh well. It doesn't matter because that's all in the past now. Eli's health is much more important. I flipped the page.
Dear Journal,
Trish and my dad have done it again. I wonder why me, out of all people have to deal with them. Today, it started when I was on my bed doing my English essay, which was filled with really smart vocabulary so it would impress Clare. Anyway, in stumbled my dad with a beer bottle in his hand. I looked at him and got up from my bed and tried to run through the doorway, but he blocked it. His brown hair was messy and his gut was hanging out from underneath his white t-shirt.
"Eli," He said in a deep voice. "How about some family bonding?" His words were slurred. I tried to push past him through the doorway, but he only got angrier. I backed away, and he slowly came toward me, exiting the doorway and entering my room. I looked behind him and saw Trish with a cigarette in her hand, closing and locking the door from the outside. He had me backed up in a corner, and he threw his beer bottle towards me, aiming for my chest but hitting my leg. I screamed and felt the blood run down my leg from the shattered glass poking through my black jeans. He pushed me down and kicked me in my 'area.' Then he started kicking and punching my stomach repeatedly. I screamed and tears rolled down my face from the pain, but the louder I was the more he kicked so I bit my lip to stop from screaming.
Eventually, he stopped kicking me and yelled to Trish so she would come in the room. I was laying on the floor, my leg losing more and more blood by the second. My "area" was on fire and so was my stomach. I was lying in a puddle of my own blood. Trish entered the room, and laughed when she saw my pathetic figure on the ground. She walked over with her cigarette in one hand, rolled up my sleeve, and burned my arm with her cigarette. I yelled again, but my father didn't seem to notice because he started to kiss Trish, and she kissed back. Soon enough, their clothes were off and they were having sex on the ground right in front of me. I slammed my eyes shut, but that didn't help because I could still hear my father's repulsive grunts of pleasure. After what seemed like eternity, they left my room. I sat there, the image on repeat in my head. I started crying some more, and realized that if I didn't stop the blood from my leg I could have a serious problem on my hands. So I, pulled all the glass from my leg, and crawled toward my bed. I took the sheets from my bed and placed them against my cuts, which eventually stopped the bleeding.
Now here I am, two hours later with the image of Trish and my father replaying in my head constantly. Sometimes, I just wish I could kill myself because death seems a lot easier than my life, but I know I never would. I could never do that to Clare or Adam. Anyway, I'll take some pictures of my injuries and I'll put them in the journal later.. As proof or something.
Eli
I stared at the page, at a complete loss for words. I wanted to kill Trish and Eli's pathetic father. I actually wanted to see their blood and their cold lifeless bodies. My hands were shaking violently and my eyebrows moved closer and closer together. To say I was angry would be an understatement. He said he had pictures, but did I really want to look at them? Without thinking of the answer, I turned the page, and my heart stopped.
The first picture was of Eli's leg. Six long streams of dark red blood dripped from the six deep wounds caused by the broken beer bottle. In the background was a blood-stained white bed sheet which was definitely the one he used to stop the bleeding. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to be sitting on a couch, nursing Eli's leg back to full health.
The second picture was of Eli's stomach. There were two bruises the size of basketballs. I decided I couldn't study the picture any longer, and threw the journal in front of me. I started to sob into my hands, dropping Adam's cell phone beside me, and then picked the phone back up. I used the cell phone light to look at Adam. He was asleep, still lying next to the tree. If you exited the hospitals doors, you would not be able to see Adam or me because the tree was in the way. I drew a sigh of relief, because that means Trish doesn't know where we are.
Is Trish still in the hospital or did she leave? Can I check on Eli now? Shit, where did I throw the journal? What if Trish finds it? I have to get that journal.
I stood up, and used Adam's phone as a light yet again. I walked around for about fifteen minutes before I heard a voice.
It was Trish's voice.
another cliffhanger! okay, was this chapter too weird for you guys? i can tone it down if you want. please review!