𝗕𝗨𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

𝟰𝟱. 𝗥𝗲𝗱

Flashback to Graysons childhood, 10 years old.

The voices of each disney channel actor have morphed into one big murmur of background noise, as I curl my body closer together on the couch. I'm not really paying attention to the show, stopped a while ago actually. My eyes trace over the purple outlines on my forearm, I don't remember seeing this swirl of blue, violet and green this time yesterday but, that'd be correct.

This time yesterday I only had an inkling that something wasn't right in my parents relationship, this time yesterday my eyes hadn't bled at the sight of my mother scrambling beneath my father. Why? I don't know, I don't know much though. Clearly I've been lied to because mom always says everything's fine when I ask, and dad doesn't talk to me because he's always out getting high.

High on drugs. Yeah, the word that most of my classmates get called out of class for uttering, but not me. Maybe the teachers know it's become a familiarity in this house so they're not worried, or maybe they're just too scared to speak to me- probably that.

A noise grows from above me and my body freezes until I remember that dad isn't home. I turn towards the grey clock hanging on the other side of the wall, it reads 12 something O'clock and I frown. This is the first time she's left her room all day even though dad left last night. Last night, after he almost shattered my bones with a single shake. I look back down at my bruise again, my mom didn't say thanks for helping her, she didn't say anything and it made me mad.

I'm her son, she saw me not only get hurt but hurt for her and she didn't ever bother taking a minute to check if I was ok. I keep trying to tell myself not to be angry, maybe she had to go look after her own bruises or maybe she just forgot; she did look tired.

She walks into the living room. A pink fluffy looking robe that I've always wanted to try on is wrapped around her slim body, but I can still see the trousers she was wearing last night on her legs. She must've been super tired, didn't even change.

She looks at me, and I feel a fire ignite on my bruise when her eyes linger there for a little too long. I hope she says something, I hope she thanks me for saving her because I did, didn't I?

She did say something -a lot actually- and through multiple tears. She told me that I shouldn't've done what I did last night, and to never do it again. She told me to tell her if dad ever hits me again when she's not around, and I promised I would; but I didn't know at the time that him hitting me last night wasn't a one off, and when I'd tell her of his latest outbreaks of violence, she'd turn a blind eye.

I asked her why he was hitting her anyways, "I can't be the woman your father wants in his life, and he doesn't like that." Was her answer but I still don't really understand because mom has always done what my friends mothers do. Cook, clean, and love.