The Abandoned Lovers

-1-

This story contains strong themes that I would recommend for mature audiences
Self harm, abuse, etc.

Chapter 1 - Darling

There is no other way to explain it, the mirror taunts me. The way I look is not good enough and it makes that clear, the scars all over my body are too big and visible it makes that clear. My face, my body, my life, everything I've ever tried to make better is not good enough. It never works. I can't make a broken thing better again by thinking I'm fine. Because the only thing I can feel anymore is pain, from myself, others, and even my family.

Maybe one day I'll see a new person looking back at me, one who's pretty, happy, in love. But that day is so far gone that I doubt its existence. So please mirror, stop taunting. Because at this point those taunts will break me for good at any second.

Summer Cynthia, a girl in the shadows some would say. Some wouldn't even know I was alive. The only evidence of me is when I do a presentation in classrooms or when my pencil scratches on the paper to loud. They don't care about me.

I used to be lovely, my sister would have her friends over every Saturday and my family would call me Sunshine. Because they thought that I was the light of their lives, with my somehow golden eyes I got from my mom. She said I was perfect.

But I wasn't perfect enough to stay for.

That's all gone now. It's like I live in a haunted military home, creaky dark rooms with the lights never turned on, but everything is very clean since my dad makes me wash everything every morning. Maybe if I'm his slave and I can't have a life my life won't end up like my sister's.

I won't end up dead.

Slowly but surely I put on my clothes, it's painful due to sore muscles and cuts along my body. A new one still pouring out fresh blood from this morning when I didn't wash my dad a fork for his breakfast. Dreaded eggs.

I wear all black, baggy clothes to hide, but also to soak up the color of my blood. Once my black sweater and black jeans are on, I brush out my hair, its about mid-neck length. I can't have longer hair, though I want it to be long and flow down to my waist.

Then I tend to my fresh cut, located on the bridge of my fragile nose. I pick out small pieces of glass from the beer bottle that was used to inflict the cut, then place a bandage over it. Making me look like I'm trying to cosplay an anime character but don't have enough makeup.

I hate it.

I push over my hair into an unnatural middle part and place my hat over my head, the one I wear everyday. Hoping that the concealer I had put on earlier hides all of my bruises on my face sufficiently, I exit the bathroom.

My room, it's not big, all it has is my bed. It's dark since the light doesn't and hasn't worked for many years. The bed has no sheets or pillows, blood stained floors and cracked walls from missed punches and thrown bottles and utensils. Must say spoons don't do much damage to me though, even with my fragile limbs.

I exit it quickly, not wanting to be in the room that has brought me nightmares for so long, real and fake ones. I go down the creaky stairs, watching as I pass broken pictures that I try not to look at. This place looks abandoned, yet the floors are so clean and the kitchen is frequently used by me.

I get to the kitchen that is right next to the living room, old furniture is everywhere from when my mom was here. Some of it is cool but overall mostly matching in the shades of green and peach. It looks vaguely of a horror story grandma's home.

I grab an apple, sneaking it from the fruit bowl. If my dad catches me I will get in a lot of trouble, but I do need food at least once in a while. I haven't eaten in a... long time, sometimes I'll sneak some food from the cafeteria at school but the lunch lady has been eyeing me down lately. I don't have any money to pay for it...