'Running away'

Another Friday came. I was sitting at school, acting like nothing had ever happened or was going to happen again. I wish I had the courage to tell somebody, any body. But I was terrified. On the outside I seemed confident, but in the inside I was insecure and afraid. The school bell rang. I began walking home, as slowly as possible, to gain more time. Every step was so hard, knowing your one step closer to get beaten up. I wish I could just run away, I needed help.

While I was going in my own thoughts, I didn’t notice the boy right in front of me. So I bumped into him. He just looked at me. There was something about him, he was different. I could see it in his eyes, he was afraid. I could feel it by the way he breathed, and that his body was very tense. I knew it because, he was just like me. He looked down at the ground, and walked away.

Now I was home, I closed the door gently behind me, and walked very still. Hoping she wouldn’t hear me come home. I could here her in the living room, she was drunk like always. I tried to hide in the closet and it succeeded for a few hours. She was very noisy, but suddenly she got very quiet. I knew she would find me now. And like I predicted, she did. She pulled me out of the closet and threw me against the wall. She was very angry and upset. She couldn’t control herself. All this, just because of my father left us, for a younger woman. My mother was never the same person after the break up. She became a drunk alcoholic. She used to be the happiest person I knew, and I used to love her. But now everything had changed and it can never go back to the way it was before. She got all her aggressions out on me. She beat me with her hands, and after that she used her bottle. She never hit me in my face, because then I would attract too much attention. So she only hit me in places that weren’t visible on my body. But today she kicked me in my face, so I had to make up an excuse for school. She had been beating me for some months now, and I have gotten a little used to it, I think. Now I have stopped struggling and fighting back, because I know I can’t do anything about it. She’s too strong.