Solace (completed)

Chapter Two

Alex Solace

We didn't sleep on the floor.

As much as my body was protesting against the action, I had no other choice but to carry my baby back to his room. And let me tell you, that boy isn't lightweight either.

The rest of the night is a blur. All I remember is putting Mateo to sleep, putting my money away until I can put it in my bank account, and falling onto my bed. I don't remember anything after that.

I've been staring at my ceiling all night, playing movies in my head. I watched Inside Out. That one lifted my spirits a bit. I watched Tangled and The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Classics if you will.

I even made up movies in my head. It kept me going. Knowing that soon, this nightmare won't be a reality anymore is what's keeping me going. That boy laying down in the room across from mine sleeping with his mouth open and fists clutching the blanket is what's keeping me going.

   Honestly if it wasn't for Mateo, if I was an only child, I would've ended my life a long time ago. As dramatic and abrupt as that may sound, it's the truth. If he wasn't in my life, I wouldn't know how much more of this I could take. But this is the card I was dealt. I have a baby that depends on me, and if I'm being completely honest, I depend on him too. He's the only light in my life and without him I wouldn't be able to survive.

   Fuck me if I wouldn't protect that kid with my life. He's so innocent, hasn't done nothing wrong in his life, he's a baby. There's hope for his life. But me? My life is...just nothing.

Out the corner of my eye I saw the light change. From the darkness of nighttime, to the sunrise of dawn. It was beautiful.

I have one window in my room, when I lay on my bed the window is to the right of me and my door is to the far left. On the wall facing forward is where all of my books sit and on the wall opposite of that is my desk.

   The sun starting rising. Colors of orange, yellow, and eventually blue peaked through the plastic blinds. I like to imagine the light peaking through the blinds and creating lines on my face like how they do in movies. It seems peaceful in a stupid sense.

The vibration of my alarm told me I had to shower. Not my hair, but a body shower to wake up. I know about hair health.

I can't even describe the pain it was to walk to the bathroom- let alone get up in the first place. You would think by now I would be used to it, how many years have I been doing this? But the feeling of fresh pain is something I can never get used to. The dull ache on day 2 or 3 is comparable to period pain, so needless to say it doesn't affect me as much.

The sting of the water hitting my open wounds made me hiss at the contact. My lip was split open, cuts and bruises laced my inner thighs, and my torso was no doubt bruised.

   Those guys were different. My father doesn't know hundreds of different people, but he knows people, and then those people tell their people, and the cycle continues.

   Blood trickled down my legs from the wounds- wait. Small cuts don't...they don't...bleed like that? What the hell?

   My head snapped down to the bathtub, water with a tiny of red flowed down the drain.

   You have got to be fucking kidding me.

   This isn't from last night, I got my fucking period.

   I should be thankful. When I'm on my period, the men don't touch me. They don't want blood on their small dicks. But I get the worst cramps of mankind. The kind where you don't know if you have to shit or throw up. The kind where you get butt ass naked on the toilet and beg god that if he takes the cramps away you'll go to church or start praying more or stop having sex.