"Be careful on your way home, Skye," Josie says as she waves at me. "Rest your head, okay?"
I wave back as I formed a small smile on my lips.
I went the other way to the school bus. I don't own a car like Josie, and I don't want a ride from Josie because I don't want her to see the house I'm leaving in.
I swung my backpack over my shoulder as I head for the bus, and taking the back seat like usual.
I'm still wearing Lisa's basketball shirt, which means I've earned some glares from most of the girls on the bus. Ugh, can't they leave me alone? It's just a basketball T-shirt with Lisa's last name on the back.
I plug my earbuds into my ears, letting the songs blocking out the voices on the bus. I lean against the window closing my eyes as the song plays over and over.
"I just wanna love my body, like you love my body."
"I wanna look into the mirror and tell it that it's beautiful like you do."
"I wanna love my body like you love my body."
"Wanna make it feel like it's incredible like you do."
"And I don't see what you see, but I want too."
I look at my wrist, which is covered by the decoration of my own with a knife. The scar has become dull over time, it's hard to see it, but it's still visible. I trace each scar under my fingertips, each one of them reminds me of the suffers I've gone through.
Josie doesn't notice my scars or the decorations I've made on myself because I would put some makeup on them or wear long sleeves. She's a good friend, but she got the things I couldn't get. I envy what she has because I couldn't have what she has. Josie is someone I trust, but sometimes I would question myself if I actually trust her.
I felt a tap on my shoulder, I look up from my wrist facing my bus driver, an old man who's going to retire after this year. His eyes soften when he saw my wrist, "Your stop is here, Josie."
"Thank you," I say, collecting my phone and my backpack. "Sorry for not paying attention."
"Don't be, I believe there are many things on your mind," He said. "You're the last one too, it's fine."
I bit my lower lip, "I'll get out of your hair, I'm sorry again. Have a nice evening sir."
"Alright," He says.
I got off the bus and hurry up to the front porch of the house. I check the front of the house to see if there are any cars parked there. None. Thank goodness, they aren't home yet.
Bursting through the front door and stumbling my way up the stairs to the attic, in other words, my room. I fumble the door nob to get into the attic, sweats are already being made on my forehead. After I got in the attic, I quickly slam the door shut and lay my back on it. I look down at my shaking hands, I need to clam down. They aren't home yet, but they will be home soon.
I strip out of Lisa's basketball shirt and put it next to my laundry basket. Then I grab one of the t-shirts from the closet and throw my bloody shirt into the laundry basket.
Everything would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
Everything would be fine.
"Everything would be fine," I whisper, repeating it over and over until I'm calm down. How could they have that much effect on me even they are not home? Why can't I just be stronger?
...Buzz...Buzz...
A text. It's a text from them, my stepfather sent me a text.
Stepfather: Food should be ready when we get home within 15 minutes.
Me: Okay.
Shit.
Stepfather: Okay?!
Me: I'm sorry, sir. I will get the food ready when you get home, sir.
Stepfather: Now that's better.
I could imagine the smirk on his face already, he likes it when he feels the power over me.
Getting off my bed, I went downstairs to the kitchen getting the food ready for them. Only them. They would eat first, then I would eat later, or I would eat the leftovers.
Today is pasta day for them, so I'm making pasta.
After 15 minutes, the pasta is ready in two plates on the table and two cups of wines. The pots are cleaned and I heard the garage door open, they are home.
The door opens revealing a tall muscular man, arms covered deep with tattoos of naked women and snakes. His face is shaved clean, a scar on his jaw, and his tired eyes look into mine. Dark brown eyes matching his dark dirty brown hair.
My stepfather.
"Welcome home, sir," I say, bowing a little to show respect. "Food is ready for you at the dinner table."
"Little pet, I had a bad day today and I want to take my anger out," He says, clenching his jaw. "Meet me in the basement after I'm done eating."
Fear crept into my mind, it's going to hurt. I'm scared, but if I refuse, I would be abuse more.
"Y-yes, sir," I stutter, hissing at myself for stuttering.
"Good," He says pasting by me.
The next person who walks through the door is my biological mother, someone who I love...I still love her, but I wish she could do something.
"Welcome home, mother," I say giving her a forced smile. "How are you?"
"I'm doing amazing," She giggles. "I can't wait for tonight, anyway, I'm hungry."
"The food is on the table, enjoy your food," I say, watching her walking to my stepfather's side.
Tonight is going to be another painfully long night. It has been awhile, but I guess, we're back at it again. I went upstairs to get Lisa's basketball shirt, so I could wash it before they finish their food. I know I would be weak after what's going to happen in the basement.
I took Lisa's basketball shirt and start washing it by hand. I can't use the laundry because only my stepfather and my mother could use it. Before I head to the bathroom, I look at my desk, it's a picture of three people, two grown-ups and a toddler.
My father, my mother and me before everything has changed.
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