Looking Beyond the Scars and Bruises

Looking Beyond the Scars and Bruises Assignment 1 for Pens, Pencils, and Pixie Dust

“Please! Just stop!” I begged before the impact had even occurred. Routinely, the tears began streaming down my burning face as I suffered the massive blow to my ribs and let out a distressed yelp. Father laughed sinisterly at my pain and kicked my ribcage precisely the same way as before, powerful and careless.

“Harder, Trent, harder! Them tears ain’t pourin’ out fast enough! Make ’er suffer! She broke my good china last week!” Mother coached from nearby, cheering Father on as he proceeded with his abusive ways. Father had me cornered in the kitchen between two cabinets, escape being placed even farther away. Following several strikes to my thigh, Mother threw her hands up in defeat and rushed over to Father’s side. For a moment, I contemplated her saving me for once in my life, but no, I was wrong. As always. Her meaty hand grasped my sore head, thrusting it into the cabinet, splintering the wood and knocking me unconscious simultaneously.

God knows how much longer later, I regained my composure and tended my new wounds that had been inflicted while I was unresponsive. Perking my ears, I noticed the house was silent, too silent. Unaware of what my parents had planned, I bolted for my bedroom, praying that this was not their retreat. Thankfully, when I passed their bedroom door, my parents emerged behind me, Mother in her lingerie. Had they really just had congratulatory…? Really? Despite her attempts to capture me before I had reached safety, I succeeded in locking my bedroom door behind me. 

Desperately, I whipped out my cell phone and started a fresh text message to David. “Help,” I typed speedily, “parents r abusing me dont kno how much longer i can last.” With absolutely no sense of regret I hit send and crouched into the corner of my bedroom, snuggling with the teddy bear Grandpa had given me before his untimely passing. The pounding and shouts outside my door grew increasingly forceful as I cowered into the deteriorating wallpaper. 

Across town in the healthy section of Riverview, David was startled at the alarming message he received while working on his science research paper. Failing to complete the assignment by it’s due date resulted in his phone being taken away, but he had managed to instruct the device to forward all of his texts to his laptop. “Dont worry,” David immediately replied, “we will talk to some1 2morrow i wont let anything happen 2 u J .” Cradling his throbbing head in his hands, David pondered how Krissy’s parents, the ones he had become so accustomed to, could turn out to be abusive monsters. Eventually, David came to a decision, he would alert his own parents about the sudden drama, and listen to their instructions on how to resolve the situation. 

“Kristine Grindle! Get your lazy ass out here this instant!” Father arrogantly commanded.

“Trent, that ’lil no good, useless, obnoxious, son of a-”

“Out with it Jamie!” Father pried, annoyance clear in his raspy voice.

“She’s textin’ somebody! She’s rattin’ us out!” Mother exclaimed, astonished. Aggravated at my failure to silence my phone from notifying me about my new messages, I shifted positions so my back was against the cold, wooden door. Breaking down the door, was clearly the next step in my parents’ conniving scheme. David’s message did anything but ease my tension, I pessimistically responded, “Im not gonna make it tht long… u gotta help me now!” Answering with this, I might as well have had “LIAR” plastered on my forehead, I practically knew I would survive, just like I’d done the previous years before.

Just as David had hauled his orange backpack over his shoulder, his laptop signaled a new text. Without hesitation, he strutted over to the computer and flipped the screen open , analyzing Kristine’s plead. What was he supposed to do? “Stay strong,” he typed, “we r in this 2gether we will talk 2 some1 2morrow promise.” Anything but satisfied, David tapped the power button and trotted out of his bedroom, curiously awaiting his parents’ reactions. 

“Just break it down!” Mother irritably shouted. Heart pounding, I managed a small smile at the reassurance in David’s reply. “Ty i appreciate it a-” Unfortunately, I was cut short by Father’s remarkable strength demolishing my bedroom door, catapulting me into my wooden bed frame.

“You just love asking for it, don’t you Krissy?” Father menacingly taunted, forcing my head into the unpolished wood, instantaneously plunging me back into my former state.