Streets of Gold
"You're way too young to fall apart...
I was still laying on my bed sobbing, holding my right arm as tight as I could so the bleeding would stop.
My face was stained with tears and the usual black eyeliner I wear was running down as well. I felt horrible. Tattered. Torn. Smashed.
My head pounded as I sat up, still clutching my upper right arm. I looked over at the mirror across my room, seeing the fist-sized bruise that now made up my entire left cheek. I then looked down under my hand, on my arm. The same, deep, long wound was dragged into my skin. Just enough I could faintly see the muscle of my bicep. I hate my life. So fucking much. Why didn't he just get it over with and kill me? No. Instead, he makes me suffer. That stupid lying bitch makes me suffer like... Like... Like a kicked kitten.
Actually, I was kicked. Not a kitten, but I was kicked. My right side actually was pulsing and cringing itself with pain, along my ribcage. How did I not