Thx again Massivealikingfan :) :P

I've got another Corrie story at the moment called 'The young girl' It's about Carla's daughter that she put up for adoption coming to find her, but she has a secret. Please read it if you haven't already :) :P

Bruises

Carla made sure Frank wasn't coming back before standing up weakly from the corner she had been cowering in. Her legs wobbled but these beatings were becoming like a normal part of everyday life, she was getting used to them.

She always used to wonder why women in this situation didn't get themselves out of there, but now she was one of them. She didn't know why she didn't get out of there, she just couldn't. She was scared, Carla hated admitting she was scared, but there was no other way of putting it. She was scared that Frank would come and find her and hurt her even more than he already was, make everything even worse.

She limped to the bedroom, to the bed she shared with him, and started to slowly undress herself. Peeling her shirt off her painful ribs, the healing bruises surely made worse by tonights meeting.

Black and purple marks littered her arms and thighs, making her skin look old and gross. There was a huge red mark coming up across her back, a red mark that would be a dark mark tomorrow.

She wiped her make up off, wiped off all that was covering the black eye she had got 5 days ago when she took too long in the shower. She pulled her pyjama's on and lay down on her bed, careful not to lay on any new or old bruises, which was quite hard.

She pulled a photo out of her draw, it was old and battered, worn from the nights she lay holding on. It was a picture of Paul and Liam, the two men she had loved the most, the two brothers, both of them were gone now. Maybe if they were still here, she wouldn't be in this position now.

She knew she couldn't think like that, it hurt her, the images of them that were burnt into her memory made her want to explode. If Frank knew she had this photo he would explode. He had made her get rid of anything that belonged to Paul or Liam, everything, except this. She was forsed to burn her photos, but she saved this one, she couldn't let it go, she couldn't let everything go.

She didn't know how long she had been lying there, drowning in memories, when the door slammed, signalling the fact Frank was home. She quickly stuffed the photo into her draw and pretended to be asleep when the bedroom door swung oipen and Frank came in. She could smell the alchohol on him from where she was laying.

She stayed perfectly still while he stumbled around, getting ready for bed. By the time he fell onto the soft matress, he was practically passed out already.

Carla hated it when he came home like this, he would have a big hangover in the morning and take it out on her, she hated him. She hated everything about him, the way he looked, the way he spoke, the way he acted like nothing bad had ever happened.

She hated herself too, for letting herself be trapped in this situation in the first place, she should've just got out and left quietly that night, never to be heard or seen of in Weatherfield again, but no. She had been her usual stubborn self and made herself believe that she could handle it, that she could handle him.

She knew deep down she couldn't though, she knew that now.

Plz review thx :) :P