Bruised

There I was, standing in the open doorway. Inside, the walls were a pale blue with yellow curtains sagging off the only window in the room. There was a desk seated in the far left corner of the room. Behind it sat a handsome man, clean cut and shaven. He was about forty, and dressed in a suit and tie. On his desk were pictures- pictures of his family, I suppose. He had a manilla folder right in the middle, just underneath his elbows. On it read Sarah Tanner, my name. Right next to his desk, there was a couch resting against the wall. The blue and yellow desgns on it matched the walls and curtains. Directly across from the couch was a table with cups, a coffee pot and a pitcher of water. It was a comforting atmospere, but somehow I couldn't relax. I didn't want to be here, there was no purpose for it.

"Come on in, Sarah." said the man. "Have a seat."

I reluctantly sat on the puffy couch and sank down. My muscles were tight and my palms sweaty. Normally, I would have wanted to lie down and sleep. But this was not possible here. I couldn't even sit back. I couldn't move.

"My name is John, Sarah, it's nice to meet you."

I just nodded my head. There was nothing else I could do.

"You can relax, I'm just going to ask you some questions. If you don't feel like answering, then you don't have to. However, it works best when you work with me. Before I get started, would you like something to drink?"

I thought to myself, "I could go for a few beers right now." But I just nodded and got myself some water. As I turned around to walk back to the couch, I noticed him writing something down. My hands were shaking and I almost spilled the water all over myself. I sat down again and remained in that position for the rest of the hour. I ached all over from the bruises and I had stomach pains because I hadn't eaten in days. I just wanted to go home and sleep. Fifty-four minutes left.
******
That night, I drove down to the lake near my house and parked my car. I got out, sat on the hood and just started drinking. The water was silently reflecting the full moon on its surface. A small breeze floated by and the air was quite chilly. It felt good to be alone, no one else around, so I could wallow in my own problems. The Jack went down real smooth and warmed me while I fell into deep thought.

Where was I going? I felt as though my life had come to an abrupt halt. I was headed to college in the fall and couldn't wait to get out of this hellhole. I needed to rid myself of the terrible memories this town had instilled in my mind. Yet at the same time, I was deathly afraid to go off on my own. I was not the independant type.

As I continued to gulp down the Jack, the memories came shooting back at me. I lay down on the hood and let them come.

My dad was the town drunk. It was one of the hottest nights that summer, three years ago. The windows were open and the white curtains were barely moving. I sat with my mother and father in the living room trying to be so still thinking maybe I could catch a breeze if I didn't move. We were all cranky because of the heat and our air conditioner had broken the day before. I stared at tv not even paying attention to the news. Dad was in his recliner already into his second bottle of Southern Comfort, and I could see his eyes become smaller and his face droopy. I knew the slightest irritation would cause him to fall into a rage.

"Don, you need to call the repair man tomorrow, I can't take this damn heat anymore." My mom said.

"Why don't you call him yourself? I'm always the one doing everything around here!" His voice was getting louder.

"Yeah, alright, that's how it is around here." my mother replied. Sometimes I wondered if she liked when he was angry and started shouting and throwing things and beating us. And other times, I thought she was the bravest woman I'd ever know. With that, my father rose out of his chair, almost falling over.

"I'm getting out of here, I can't take this shit right now."

"You're not going anywhere in your condition!" They yelled back and forth with the argument escalating. I tried to go into my room and shut the door as quietly as I could. At these times, I would usually hide on the side of my bed nearest the wall and sing to myself so I wouldn't have to deal. No such luck this time. My dad came around the corner and took me by the arm pulling me roughly back into the living room.

"You're not going anywhere, why don't you talk some sense into that woman."

"Dad, I don't want to be a part of this. Just leave me alone please." I pleaded with sad eyes, hoping that he would let me go. I spoke softly, hoping it would calm him. Inside, I was so afraid of him and I thought if he saw my fear, he would back down.

"I don't think so, you're part of this family too. Get back out here." He pushed me back into the couch. I didn't know what to do. If I fought him, he would beat me. I just wanted to disappear.

"Do you think that your mother does all the work around here while I sit around? Well, do you?!" He shouted at me. I didn't want to fight him but I had to protect my mother. I worked up the courage quickly. I had never in my life talked back to him.

"I dunno." I whispered.

"What?! Speak so I can hear you!" He stood over the couch and gave me a hard smack across the face as if he was warning me to answer the way he wanted me to. But I was sick of this, I couldn't take it anymore. I reached down deep and tried to be brave like my mother.

"You're just a damn drunk! You go to work, come home, expect a clean house and dinner on the table. Then you drink yourself stupid! Where were you when we had no money for groceries? You were at the fucking bar spending our money on bo..." Slap

"Stand up and get over here you ungrateful child! As I stood up,I felt the blow to my shoulder. Pain seared down my arm as I reached for some sort of balance. I saw the remote flying through the air just in time to duck. I heard my mom yelp like a puppy behind me.
The next thing I heard was what I thought was the crunching of bones in my face. Warmth spread through out and my face went numb. I fell backwards and everything went blurry.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that! I work hard just so this family can get by. Your mother is the lazy one who never gets off her ass to help out. I don't see her holding down a job! And what about you! It's about time you grow up and take some responsibilty of your own!" He pushed me back down and threw something at me. I couldn't tell what it was. All I knew was that it hit me square in the chin. Then he walked over to me and everything went black.

*******

I woke up in a strange bed with beeping noises all around me. I couldn't open my eyes and I started freaking out. I didn't know if he was still there or not. Should I yell, or should I just lay here and hope he doesn't notice I'm awake? Panic was sweeping over me, I didn't know what was going on. Where was my mother? Was she alright? Thoughts kept creeping into my head and I was more scared than ever. The next thing I knew, my mother was standing over me whispering that everything was going to be ok. She explained to me that I was in the hospital and they took dad away. I breathed a sigh of relief and then guilt washed over me. I stayed in the hospital for two days before going home. It turned out that I had a few broken bones in my face and a dislocated elbow. Dad was in the county jail.

About a month after that whole incident, I started blaming myself for him being in jail. I blamed myself for instigating him. If only I had kept my mouth shut. Maybe I should take on more responsibility. Maybe he was right. I starting hitting myself. I liked the warmth of the blood that spilled out and formed bruises on my skin. They became colorful and gave me hope. I don't know why, but I felt that I deserved the pain. After that, I started getting more adventurous and lit cigarettes just to see them burn my skin. It felt so good. It calmed my nerves as well as my guilt.

********

As I sat on my car, I realized that I needed to get away. College would be for the best and I would just have to learn to take care of myself. I didn't want to be dependant anymore. I couldn't trust anyone but myself. My dad always kept his anger inside and wouldn't talk about things. I decided that maybe I could break the cycle by getting things out. I didn't want to be like him. I was going to have to start talking. I drove home slowly around the bending curves of the town and focused as hard as I could. When I got home, I went right to bed. I just hoped I would remember my epiphany in the morning.

I did and the next week, I walked into that pale blue room, got a cup of coffee and started to talk.