Hate Is An Evil Type Of Love

9. Lost

I woke up, my head felt like it was going to explode, and I couldn't remember anything that happened the night before.
I groaned, shifting uncomfortably on my bed. Then, memories from last night started pouring in like the rains from a hurricane.

I feel so stiff, and wrong, as I trudge to the bathroom, limping.
I don't care that I'm not wearing anything, I just need to see for myself if everything that happened last night actually happened, and isn't just a really really bad dream.
I've never hated a mirror so much in my life.

I quickly walked back to my room, to see what time it was, and if I could find a big enough hoodie to hide the bruises all over my face.
It felt like I'd been brutally run over by a semi-truck, several times, but at least I wasn't swollen or bleeding any more.
Brady must've dragged me to my own bed last night, because there's a small trail of blood on the floor coming from the hallway.

I'm quick to put all of my clothes on, making sure my pants aren't too tight around my legs so they don't show any of the lumps, and the only hoodie big enough to hide my face is a dark red one, it's too flashy but it'll have to do.
I try to control the limping as I walk to my car, I'm only half an hour late for school.

I know I can't lose my temper now, but I also know I'm not going to stay here.
I make sure I have my wallet and phone, keys and a small bag holding all of my clothes. That's all my 'parents' would let me have, they didn't 'believe' in giving me anything else.
I made sure I have all my things before pulling out of the driveway, not even bothering to look back.

I left the house key on the table in the dining room, and have no intention of ever coming back.
I silently drive to school, ignoring thoughts of the cliff, and the knife in my bag, as they invade my mind.
I'm inside the school in a matter of minutes, my mind set on finding Peter. I know he'll be able to make me feel so much better.

The bell rings, letting out student from first period. I walk to my locker, I have a couple things I need to get from there too, and I hope Peter will meet me there.
And sure enough, after a couple minutes of waiting, he's staring at me from down the hall. He smiles and starts to wave, but his happiness fades when he sees my face.

He starts to run toward me.
"Oh my god, Luke! What happened? Who did this to you?" He says when he reaches me.
He lightly touches the bruise under my eye, making me flinch slightly.
I shake my head, fighting off tears and refusing to explain everything that happened yesterday.

He nods, his eyes filling with tears too as he leads me towards the nurses office.
"You don't have to explain everything to me now, but you should tell someone. Luke, if someone is hurting you, someone can help.
The cops, or the principal, or CPS, or whoever you want, but you have to tell someone." He softly says, worried.

I know he's only trying to help, but it's making it worse.
"Brady, my foster parent." Is all I say. Surprised, he nods, "Ok. It's ok, Luke. I promise, he's not going to hurt you any more. Ok? You're safe. I've got you, I won't let him hurt you."
He comforts me, his arm slung across my back, his hand rubbing my shoulder.

The receptionist gasps in shock when we walk into the nurses office.
"I'll get her right away." She says, quickly. I sit in one of the seats in the waiting area, and Peter sits with me, still holding me.
Seconds later, the nurse walks in and gasps, "Oh my, come right in!" I slowly stand back up, grimacing in pain.

I let Peter lead me into the room, and the nurse shuts the door behind us.
"I'm going to have to get the police involved. Can you tell me what happened?" The nurse, Ms. Jenny, asks while examining my face. I shake my head, refusing to recall anything that happened last night.
"Sweetie, it's ok. I can't help until you tell me what happened." She pries, tilting my head to get a better look at my neck.

I sigh, still trying to hold back tears.
"Can you take your hoodie off for me?" She asks calmly. I nod, taking it off carefully.
No matter how gentle I am, the pain still finds a way in.
She gasps when she sees my arms and neck, which are badly bruised and beaten. Peter grasps onto my hand tighter, trying not to show how absolutely pissed he is.

She quickly gathers bandages and cleaning supplies for my wounds, and I start to tell them everything.
Peter looks away, a few tears dripping down his face, and the nurse nods in understanding, trying to hold in tears herself.
Explaining my side of everything doesn't take very long, I don't go into detail.

I'm surprised at how good I did at keeping my emotions under control, talking monotonously and quietly. I finish telling the 'story', just as the police and paramedics show up.
I don't really listen to what they're saying, I just follow the directions I'm given, letting them lift me onto the stretcher.
Peter follows them as they push me down the hall, and he's explaining what I just told him to a couple of the officers.

I feel numb, and distant, like the world is all in my imagination.
I stare blankly at the roof of the ambulance as they hoist me inside it, Peter is allowed to ride with me.
A couple of the paramedics stay in the back to monitor me, and take care of my broken and bruised body. Peter grips my hand tighter, he's saying something but I'm not paying attention.

He feels distant, the world grows further and further away from me and I black out again.