Sinner's Place {h.s}

eleven.

I had to wrap my hand up this morning because of how swollen and sore it was. I could barely move my hand, even ibuprofen wasn't helping the swell. My mom wasn't even phased when I came down with my hand wrapped in a white bandage, and my father gave me a sad look, but didn't say anything.

He never stood up for me when mom acted out. Sometimes I wondered if he was getting the backhand behind doors—or if he just didn't care.

Accidents happen.

I had to keep telling myself that so I didn't have a mental breakdown.

The kids kept asking me what happened to my hand and I kept having to tell them that I fell down the stairs and had sprained my hand. They even made me get well cards during arts and crafts. It made me want to cry. I loved my students with everything in me. They were really a big reason why I do what I do.

Every year I watch them come and go, and every year I get so sad when they leave my class after graduating. I knew they were off to bigger and better things in their lives, but the sting was still there. I never failed to cry every graduation.

After work, I didn't want to go home, so I walked myself to my new apartment. I hadn't began to move anything yet, but this was my place. I had already paid for it and had the key. It was my new home that I could go to. Away from everything.

It didn't take me long before I was walking down the walkway to the door, and up the deathly-steep stairs. Every time I walked up these steps, I swear I was losing five pounds each trip. Hauling groceries up these stairs were going to be so much fun.

I shook off the cold, rubbing my nose as I stood in front of my door. I leaned my head against the cold door, taking a slow breath as I stuck the key into the lock and pushed the door open. The door creaked loudly, making me jump once again. I rolled my eyes, biting down hard on my lip as I kicked the door hard.

"Stupid fucking door!" I screamed out. My eyes went down to the last hinge of it, tilting my head as I leaned down. I saw the problem. It was just a broken hinge that needed to be replaced. I fiddled with the screw, trying to fit it back into the rusty, orange hinge, knitting my brows together in concentration.

A door opened behind me, but I ignored it. This was my place too and if someone was going to yell at me for being loud then I would yell at them too. I wasn't in the mood to be messed with right now. My hand was throbbing, and probably sprained too. Who fucking knew. I hadn't went to a doctor yet and I probably needed to.

"Do you need help?" A raspy voice came from behind me, my body stilling at the familiarity of it. I pinched my eyes shut, letting my head fall as I sighed out. I knew who was behind me, but I didn't think they realized who I was.

I stood to my feet, dusting my pants off as I turned on my heel to face him, my arms crossed over my chest with my tongue poking my cheek.

"Anna?" He breathed out, taking a step back as his brows knitted. He looked embarrassed for a moment, his eyes trailing back into his apartment before stepping out into the hallway and closing the door.