Broken

Rainbow Road

Sleep had been elusive and thoroughly drowned in misery. When it came, it only decided to stop by to say hello before heading off again. Another short visit in a year of hoping one day it might stay a little longer.

The sun crept through the window like a family member that shows up at a Christmas party and no one seems to know how you're related. Friendly. Unwanted. Annoying.

I lifted myself from under the covers, my body aching from the night before. I trudged to my closet, figuring the earlier I was up, the better. Maybe I'd have time to read after I was done making breakfast. I pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans before walking downstairs, careful not to make much noise. Jean wouldn't be up yet. He liked to sleep in.

I searched through the cupboards for something to eat, finding a box of cereal, a carton of milk, and a few nearly spoiled eggs. I'd have to go to the store later. I sighed, figuring that cereal and milk were the safest choice, pouring a bowl for Jean and myself. I brought them to the table, setting them down and going to get my book. I read a few pages, occasionally eating a spoonful of cereal. I had already finished a chapter by the time Jean came down the stairs, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Good morning," I said as cheerfully as I could manage. He just groaned in response, walking over and sitting down. "You didn't make coffee." he grumbled.

Coffee. I knew I had forgotten something. I swallowed nervously, watching his face carefully, looking for the familiar twitch of anger, the blaze of fire in his eyes. But he hung his head, his gaze downcast. There was a tense, palpable silence before he picked up his spoon and brought some cereal to his mouth.

His hand left a harsh sting on my cheek and I bit my lip, keeping myself together. "My cereal's soggy. Don't you know how to do anything?"

I didn't respond. Jean suddenly grabbed my face, yanking my chin up to face him. I almost grabbed instinctively at the hands around my throat, but stopped myself before I made things worse. "Look at me when I talk to you! Now answer me!"

I trembled as I opened my mouth, trying to form words around the lump in my throat. I wanted to say something witty. Something that might make him stop. But I knew that would only make him more upset. "N-No." I croaked and he finally let me go. I gasped for air, coughing a bit. He sneered. "Stupid bitch."

The insult was said under his breath, but I still heard. And it still stung. He grabbed his bowl and threw it in the sink. I stared at the dark wood of the table, trying to blink away my tears. "I'm going out today. Stay here." he said gruffly, pulling on his shoes and heading for the door. I heard it open and slam shut and then he was gone. I let a sob escape me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and shaking my head gently. Why did I have to mess everything up? Why couldn't I just do one thing right? I make coffee everyday, why did I have to forget? Why today? After last night?

I wiped my tears away and stood up with one last sob. Maybe I'd go see Eren today. Jean told me to stay home, but I needed him. I needed an escape. I grabbed my phone and sent Eren a text asking if I could come over. After receiving the usual reply, I hurried to the bathroom and grabbed my hidden tin of makeup. I dabbed at the purple around my eye and the pink on my cheek, covering them both. When I finally looked presentable, I put on my shoes and started for Eren's house.

Eren and I had been best friends since we were young. We used to hang out all the time and tell each other everything. But then along came Jean. And then all that stopped.

Eren didn't like him from the beginning. He called him horseface. Or, more formerly, the asshole. He didn't know about the beatings. But he didn't need to know. Jean loved me and if Eren knew, he wouldn't understand. He'd only be concerned for me. Maybe even try his idea of helping. Which actually wouldn't be much help. Jean just lost his temper sometimes. That's all. And I only get in the way, so of course he'd be mad at me. It was my fault.