BRUISES

| Twenty-Seven |

Rubbing my eyes, I turn and hear the noise of lawnmowers outside. It's light out and when I try to reach over Ian's body to check his phone for the time—he wakes and rests his arm over me.

Gently moving it off me, I crawl off his bed and search for my pants. Putting them on, I brush my dirty hair away from my face and groan at the throbbing pain on my temple. I hear Ian shift in his sleep and stare at him opening his sleepy eyes.

"You don't need to leave." Ian mutters, his voice raspy. He checks his phone for the time. "It's 6:18 in the morning."

I find my bag and drink from a glass of water he brought upstairs the night before.

"I have to go." I tell him, swinging my bag over my shoulder. My throat is dry and my body is sore. Ian sits up and rubs his sleepy eyes. I gaze down at his shirtless body and the bedsheet covering his lower half.

"I'm going to get bagels for the boys and I. Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

In a rush, I shake my head and head for the door. I hear Ian struggling to put his boxer briefs on and chase after me. With one shoe on, I scurry out the front door and unlock my car. Ian stops the door from slamming shut and for some reason, there's a fateful smile on his lips.

"I'll see you again, Theo!" He shouts over the neighbor mowing the lawn.

I take a shaky breath before the engine roars to life and I zoom out of the neighborhood. My phone is dead but I know how to get back to the hotel. Taking the backroads, I lower the music playing from the radio.

I begin laughing to myself, finding myself invested in my feelings. When the noise is silent, the sun is peeking over the large houses and there are rarely any cars on the road—I am disconcert about it. My hands gripping the steering wheel make my knuckles white and illusive.

Giggling to myself, my vision blurs and my mind wraps itself around in a smog. Then my bottom lip quivers and I start to sob. I don't know where I'm going or how I'm following the rules to the roads.

I'm a fool and a mess. There is no other way to put it and last night showed it. I let a man enter my temple and steal my dignity. I cry harder and my body tenses from the emotions. The sex felt good and I enjoyed it. I feel dirty and the person who I pretend to be. It's sick in a way to let them inside me. As though they will know me for who I am and who I buried behind.

I know he will turn around, look at me on the screen and say I fucked her. While my enclosed smile and the lights flashing in front of the hungry men capture the lies I withhold. Beyond the book I created and never opened again.

I wipe my cheeks with the back of my arm. Cutting past the cope of trees, the branches have sprung to life and green, live leaves blow among the morning wind. Passing the street with little to no direction, a car blares it's horn.

A vehicle comes to my side and before it can hit me, I jerk the wheel and the tires squeal in response. The car cuts the other way as well and to avoid the trees, I spin the wheel the other way. Slamming my foot on the breaks, the car pulls to a stop.

When it stops, it's quiet again and I taste the salt of my tears that have streamed down my face. I don't see the other car anywhere to be found. Looking at all the mirrors, I'm all alone. The radio is still playing until I push the knob to stop it.

My legs are shaking and my body is rigid with fear. Putting the car on park, I get out and fall onto the ground. The pavement is cold and my palms dig into loose pebbles and sand.

Inhaling a sharp breath, I let out a scream. A blood curling howl that's been building up within me for days...months...years. I scrap my nails against the ground and cry. I don't know where the car came from or whether I was in the fault. If the stop sign was a blind spot or if they weren't paying attention.

But I sit collapsed on my knees, on the side of the road, sobbing. Screaming at the damned world for being this way. For having to take people away from the life they wished for. Because they weren't able to get to where they wanted to be. Snot and tears glisten my face while pieces of my hair stick to my cheeks.

Pain erupts along my arms and I can't stop myself. The damage has already been done and these bruises will the only thing that will remind me of who I lost. Nothing will ever be the same until I make a change.

I will always hate myself, if I don't change the person I am. This burden feeling of hate, self-loath, loss of identity will be the point of my own death.

~*~
Oh the suspense. The end will destroy us all.
Vote, comment, follow me :)