Bruises

thïrtŷ-sïx

Before you can live a part of you has to die. You have to let go of what could have been, how you should have acted and what you wish you would have said differently. You have to accept that you can't change the past experiences, opinions of others at that moment in time or outcomes from their choices or yours. When you finally recognize that truth then you will understand the true meaning of forgiveness of yourself and others. From this point you will finally be free.

•shannon l. alder•

I stood up and stared down at him, my eyes wide. My knuckles were stinging and burning, my vision were blurry and my legs were wobbling.

Arms wrapped around my waist, and held me tightly but gently. Tim sat his head on top of mine, and his hand held mine.

I closed my eyes and breathed in.

I smelled icing sugar and chocolate, men's deodorant and oranges. I inhaled his scent as much as I could, and exhaled deeply.

"You okay?" Tim said softly, swaying his body slightly. I could feel him hunching over slightly, because of pain in his gut.

I nodded slowly, and opened my eyes.

Marcel was still on the ground, and his face was bruising.

It was greenish purple, ugly and fresh and painful.

He finally feels my pain, I thought.

"Should we get him to a doctor?" I said slowly.

"Probably." Tim sighed. "I'd like to leave him, but we shouldn't."

I squeezed my lips together. "Monster." I spat.

_

Will her brother learn from this? comment your thoughts below!