Page 64 of Dmitri

“Yes, Mom.” I crawl away, biting back my whimpers.

Be better. Cleaner. Wash my hair. Put on clean clothes.

Be better.

Cleaner.

Wash my hair.

Put on clean clothes.

My legs and arms are rubber noodles as I drag myself back to my bedroom. The instant I shut the door, I throw up into a trash can. It takes time for me to pull myself together. The burn from her iron is so agonizing, nothing I can do will relieve the pain. I can’t run from it. I can’t touch it. And if I go into the bathroom to run cold water over it, I might just take a straight razor off the sink and use it on myself so I can be done with this life called Hell.

So, I embrace it.

I let the pain sink into my motherfucking bones and fortify me. Every blow, every scar, every ounce of agony I’ve endured strengthens me. Soon, resilience will make me unbreakable.

Sucking in deep breaths, I stare at my nearly empty dresser. I’ve had a growth spurt lately and most of my clothes don’t fit anymore. I haven’t washed my hair in three days because we ran out of shampoo and my mom won’t let me use hers because she says it’s too expensive to waste. My dad’s head is shaved most of the time, so I have no clue what he uses on his head, but I’m guessing bar soap. I’ve tried it but my long hair gets too dry and tangled and conditioner doesn’t exist for anyone but my mom in this house.

I’ll steal some shampoo at the store later today.

I should have done so last week, but hadn’t cared enough. I didn’t think anyone would say something about my hygiene. It’s not like I smell. I’m just in crap clothes and my hair is getting too long. It’s past my shoulders now.

Refusing to look at the damage to my back, I rummage through my drawers to find a better shirt to slip on. The instantthe cotton touches fresh burn, I gag and sway, those white dots dancing in my vision all over again.

I need to get out of here. Now.

I need help.

I need…

To be better. Cleaner. Wash my hair. Put on clean clothes.

Stepping out of my room, I wipe the sweat beading on my upper lip and ask, “Can I go to my friend’s house? I did all my math homework.”

She doesn’t look up from her ironing. “Yes, of course.”

Because she wants me out before my dad gets home. There have been a few times when her abuse has been bad enough that I need time to heal or we risk Dad finding out, which neither of us wants. She’s made it so very clear that if he did, he’ll kill her. If he kills her, he’ll go to jail.

And then where will I be?

Sometimes I think we’d all be better off if that’s what happens. I get angry at my dad for never noticing the things she does to me. Ever hear the expression, love is blind? Well, that’s my dad. Mom seems to have some kind of spell on him, and she turns the sweetness all the way up when he’s around. And lets it all vanish when he’s not.

But I love my dad. I don’t want to make things worse for him. He works hard and loves me and that’s got to be enough. He’s the only good thing I have in my life.

Well, him and my only friends. Ryker and Knox know about my mom, but they’ve sworn to never tell. So has my friend Vault. Miss Ashley can’t find out either, because she’ll pity me and then I’ll hate her for it. Besides, Ryker’s dad was abusive and honestly so is Knox’s, so crying to them about it is like preaching to the choir. We’ve all got tragedy in our lives. At least Ryker and his mom got away from their monster.

Me and Knox likely never will.

And Vault? Well, he’s got his own fucking problems, which just goes to show no one has a happy life in reality.

I think I’ll go to the gym on Monday, if my back isn’t too sore from this, and ask for boxing lessons. I’ll barter to get them. Maybe offer to clean the gym every day to earn it. I could ask my dad to teach me to fight, but if Mom finds out, there would be hell to pay, so that’s a no-go.

But I have to dosomething. I can’t keep getting beat like this. If my mom can reduce me to a crybaby crawling away on his hands and knees, who will be next? There’s always someone bigger and worse out there.

Time to be the biggest, baddest monster in town.

Thank God I’ve got a high pain tolerance. At least my mom gave mesomethinggood to work with…

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