The Girl In Red

Ouch....

I could feel the ache in my body before I was fully conscious and I could taste iron. I knew what that meant all too well. My night ended the same way Ouch…

I could feel the ache in my body before I was fully conscious and I could taste iron. I knew what that meant all too well. My night ended the same way it did many times before: being my father's punching bag.

I refused to open my eyes and allow the pain to slowly dull as I pushed it to the back of my mind. I'm pretty sure I have bruised ribs again. He really went all out on me this time. Breathing even hurts. At least the cold tile floor felt good against my battered body.

I reluctantly opened my eyes with a quiet groan. I must have passed out curled up on the floor of the bathroom again. It's where I go if I am bleeding. It's easier to clean up and won't stain the gray floor. I slowly got up, my body protesting in every way.

"Ouch..." I whispered to myself.

I have to get up. It's time to make breakfast.

I pushed my body off the floor and started the shower. I jumped in quickly, giving it no time to heat up. I knew my father would be displeased if I wasted water. I took extra care to scrub gently yet ensure all the blood that was caked in my hair and on my skin was washed off.

Ouch...this really hurts today....

I warmed up in the last few moments in the shower. The water felt like fire against my ice-cold skin. I quickly turned it off and grabbed a towel. I patted myself dry so as to not reopen my wounds that danced all over my body. I sighed and wiped the fog from the mirror. Staring back at me was a sad excuse for a person. My hair, darkened with the water, looked like red autumn leaves. My skin was pale and riddled with blue and green spots. My right lower lip was busted again. That's what the iron taste was. And finally looking back into my gray eyes.

I quickly brushed my teeth and ran into my bedroom as quietly as possible. You never wake father up before he wakes up. The wooden floors creak and would give me away in the earlier years. I quickly discovered the silent boards that would hide my movements and stuck to those. As I danced past my father's room, I slowed down to ensure a ninja-like silence. One stair, two stairs, three....four. HURRY!

My brain jolted with fear and I dashed up. I squeezed into my room and didn't bother closing my door as it would creak. I quickly threw on underwear, followed by a pair of stretchy black skinny jeans, a forest green tank top and- to hide everything- a black sweater that was two sizes too big.

Glancing in my mirror, I knew I couldn't go to class looking like this. I grabbed my book bag and took out the few things of makeup I had stolen: mascara, lip balm, and a bit of concealer. I'm not proud that just about all I have has been stolen, but it is the only way I get anything. Clothes, make-up to hide the bruises, and sometimes even food.

I finished my makeup with a quick and ever so gentle sweep of my tinted lip balm. The red tint will hide the busted lip a bit and make it not as noticeable. Sighing, I grabbed my boots and socks, shoving them into my black backpack. I smiled at the sunflower keychain I hung on the zipper and for a brief second I thought of my mom. I snapped my head up to a creak in the house.

SHIT!

Please, father, don't be awake! I haven't started breakfast yet!

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears and I scrambled down the stairs. I grabbed a pan and set it on the stove. The light clink it made had my heart skip a beat. I had to remind myself to stop shaking and breathe. If I get his coffee ready and set the table, he will give me ten minutes. I was running through all the steps to make my father happy. Coffee is almost done brewing and the eggs and sausage are just hitting the pan.

Oh coffee pot, please hurry! I promise to give you an extra nice cleaning tonight! I thought as I glanced at the kitchen door. I had a view of the door that leads to his room. I could see a shadow dancing through the gap between the door and floorboards.

I grabbed a coffee cup, poured in the coffee, allowing the aroma to hug my nose. One tablespoon of sugar and three of milk. Stir it, set it on the table with the newspaper- NEWSPAPER! I haven't gotten his newspaper yet! My heart sank to my stomach as the pale yellow cabinets began to feel like they were closing in on me.

Breath! You got this! His food was ready so I quickly set it on a plate and on the table. Thank goodness he's taking his time this morning!

I quietly dashed out the dark door, unlocking all 4 locks, ran down the short driveway to our rusted mailbox and turned back to the house. I ran through the grass and jumped into the house. I could hear him putting on his boots.

Fuck! Hurry!

I unwrapped my father's newspaper and set it on the right side of his plate. I turned and saw a bit of egg stuck to the pan. I grabbed it and threw it in my mouth, swallowing it. I dare not take my time to enjoy it. I quickly started washing the pan. That's when the door alerted me as to its opening. My body tensed in fear as I waited for him.