Once we pulled up to the house, I got out and followed him through the garage and into the house. He threw his keys onto the marble kitchen counter and ran his hands through his hair. I put my head down and started out of the kitchen, but before I got halfway out of the room, I felt his hand come around the top of my arm. My body tensed up as he spun me around to face him. I didn’t have time to think as his palm landed hard against my cheek. My ears rang and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

I reached up and covered my cheek as I looked up at him in shock. He was abusive, but not this kind of abusive. He had never hit me and now, as he looked down at me with a strange expression on his face, I knew he was taken aback by his reaction as well. His realization seemed to piss him off even more as he grabbed the tops of my arms and pushed me up against the wall.

“See what you made me do?” he said angrily. Spittle flew from his mouth and landed on my burning cheek.

I’d never been more afraid of him and the fear on my face fueled him. I didn’t even see his back hand coming as he hit me again. This time I cried out loudly. I cussed myself for making the noise. The last thing I wanted was for my mom to hear me and become alarmed. I covered my mouth with my hand and waited for him to hit me again. My cheek felt swollen and hot, so hot I expected the single tear that slid down it to sizzle. He slid his thumb under my eye so hard it hurt as he tried to rub my thick eyeliner away.

“I can’t even look at you,” he hissed out.

And then I was moving as he slung me around so I stood in front of the kitchen table and faced away from him. He smacked me in the shoulder blades as he roughly pushed me over the table and pulled my left arm hard behind my back. My face hurt as he pressed it into the table. I had an idea of where this was going, but since he only ever touched me in my bedroom once everyone was asleep, I didn’t really know what to expect. I cried into my hand as he started to rip my pants down. My stomach dug into the side of the kitchen table and I thought for sure if he pushed down on me any harder he’d break my ribs.

Once my pants and panties were down, I pushed myself away into the place I went we he came into my room. The tears stopped and my eyes felt sticky and dry as I stared out the kitchen window into the backyard. The pool looked extra bright and the stars seemed to reach forever. I closed my eyes and wished I was one of those stars—far away, burning in the night sky where no one could reach me.

In the distance, I could hear the table shaking and skidding across the expensive tile floor. A candle holder fell over and cracked in front of my eyes. The arm that he held behind my back got pulled harder and I thought for sure he’d pull it off of my shoulder, but I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel any pain anymore. Instead, my hand slowly fell from my mouth and I lay there still and silent while I prayed I was dead. If it weren’t for Sydney and my mom, I’d welcome death with a smile, but as long as they were here, I’d be here.

My short-term memory had been altered. As I stood under the blazing, hot shower water I couldn’t remember how I got there. I couldn’t remember the moment he left me or the trip up the stairs to the bathroom, and that scared me. I’d always known I was broken, but it was obvious he was smashing the small pieces of me into even smaller fragments. Soon, I’d be dust in the wind. Maybe then I could float away and stay in my happy place.

After my shower, I stared in the mirror at my cheek. The bruising was getting worse by the minute and I knew I’d have to come up with a damn good excuse for Mom and Syd. My cell phone was going nuts since Megan had no idea where I was. Finally, I texted her back and told her I was fine and that I was going to bed.

When I slipped under the covers, my entire body hurt. I couldn’t sleep, so I lay there and stared up at the ceiling. I thanked God Sydney was at a friend’s house and my mother would never know what was happening under her roof. If I could just make it a few more years, then I’d never have to see his face again if I didn’t want to… just a few more years. I’d already lived through this for almost ten. What’s a few more?

I watched as the dark ceiling became gray, then finally bright orange as the morning sun peeked into my room. My eyes felt as if I hadn’t blinked the entire night and I was almost positive I hadn’t. My body felt stiff and my ribs ached. The injured side of my face felt bigger than the other and I was dreading looking in the mirror and seeing what I had to deal with Monday at school. I hoped it wasn’t very bad and if it was, I hoped the two days I had before going back to school was enough for it to heal.

As soon as I got up and got dressed, I called Megan to come and get me. No matter how badly I wanted to be out of this house, I couldn’t bring myself to drive that gray Toyota in the garage.