Hopelessly Drowning

Chapter 2

After the policewoman whose name I learned was Ms. Spencer broke the news, her eyes began to once again scan my appearance.

"What happened? How did you get these bruises?" She asked suspiciously. I remained silent dropping my gaze to my bare feet on the floor in shame. I was weak, I couldn't even protect myself.

She sighed, "We're going to take you to the hospital and check all your injuries, you're going to have to tell us eventually." I swallowed, avoiding her eyes. She sighed once again when she was met with nothing but silence.

"Well, let's go then. You need to get to the hospital." She gestured to my worn sneakers tossed haphazardly against the wall in the hallway. I stuffed my feet into them, my right ankle screaming in protest. The officer placed a gentle arm around my shoulders causing a jolt of fear to run through me I flinched. Forcing in a breath I looked back at the open door, wondering if I would be able to take at least a few of my things, save the few good memories held in those walls.

She saw me looking, "I'm sorry but your stepfather was under suspicion of drug trafficking before he died. We need to search the house to see if our suspicions were correct and if others were involved." She gave me a pointed look before continuing to help me limp down the driveway. Shame filled me once again as I saw the look she sent me. Of course, they all thought I was a druggie, just like him.

I looked out the window at the passing trees creating a green and brown blur as the car sped past. I rest my head on the cool glass, the chill sending shudders down my spine. I relish the feeling, something to keep me here, keep me from falling into an abyss of fear and pain. What was going to happen to me? Where would I go now? My mother obviously didn't want me, I mean, who would. The dark thought snapped me back to reality, of course, no one wanted me. I didn't deserve to be wanted, I didn't deserve to be loved.

****

"Well, Elizabeth, you certainly took a beating." The doctor stated walking into the room, her eyebrows raised. I winced at the accuracy of her statement. My entire body ached, the pain medication they had said was in the IV hadn't kicked in yet. I swallowed when I met her questioning gaze,

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. Two cracked ribs, a fractured right ankle, severe bruising on your midriff, an infected cut, and several burn marks. You can't possibly be oblivious. We're here to help you, if Mr. Smith hurt you, you can tell us." She said looking at me through the large lenses of her glasses, her piercing gaze seeming to penetrate me as if scanning me, assessing my broken figure lying pathetically on the bed. I refused to answer, I didn't want anyone to know. Not because I felt the need to defend my stepfather if I could even call him that, but I didn't want them to see how broken I was on the inside, how weak I was.

"The blood tests we took should come back tomorrow morning, but the urine samples we took to test for drugs might only come back in a couple of days. Until then you need to stay here, I will have your nurse come in and check your bandages tomorrow morning. You should get as much rest as you can, you need to be well-rested when you meet with your social worker." She spoke quickly and impatiently almost as if I was an annoyance that was taking up her time. I nodded silently, willing her to leave. She looked at me once more before switching off the lights and closing the door, leaving me alone once again in darkness.

****

Filthy

Lazy

Disgusting

Worthless brat

I opened my eyes, I was in my room again, the mattress beneath me cold and hard. I could hear voices but as far as I could see I was alone in my room. I sat up pushing aside the sheets and looking around, something about the room was odd, different. Nothing was moved, but something was wrong. My eyes scanned every inch of the room, the overpowering scent of alcohol still lingered in the room. I walked forward towards the door desperate to leave the suffocating atmosphere,