Broken Glass

I had just fallen asleep when my mom started to pound on my door. "Skylar, get your sorry ass up and get ready for school!" I hated school but it was definitely an enticing offer when my only other option was to be stuck at home with the world's biggest bitch so I rolled out of bed and made my way down the hall to the bathroom. The tile was like ice to my bare feet but the thought of that hot water caressing my skin made this moment well worth it. I took my time scrubbing my skin in my favorite lavender body wash and let the warm steam envelop me in a soothing cocoon. After a while my mind started to slip away to a place that was safe and not so fucking warped. I turned the water off, albeit very reluctantly and made my way back to the comfort of my bedroom.
It didn't matter that my bedroom was the smallest room in the entire house because it was one of the few places n the world where I could be me. My walls are painted black and there are blackout curtains covering the windows. I have a walk-in closet that houses my all black wardrobe. Jackets, skinny jeans, hoodies, and long sleeved shirts. My favorite part of the whole room was my bed. All black sheets, fleece comforter, giant pillows, and the hand carved head board that I spray painted purple. I slid myself into an oversized shirt and one of my few skirts, pulled my jet black hair into a ponytail, and paused briefly to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I wasn't even close to pretty. My skin was way too pale, my arms and legs are like twigs, and my eyes bulged out of my head. None of that really mattered because I tried to avoid people whenever possible. After depressing myself with my appearance, I walked downstairs into the kitchen, hoping and praying to avoid a face to face with my mom but as usual God tuned me out because the putrid scent of whiskey assaulted my nose as soon as I turned the corner.
I could tell she was drunk and that always made our encounters worse. Her bleach blonde hair was matted and her green eyes were tinged with red. There was nowhere to run so I had to cope with whatever drunken insults and poorly aimed blows she decided to dish out.
"Skylar, you sorry ass whore!" "I wish you would just die!" She started swinging and I started dodging but I wasn't fast enough. She hit me so hard my head snapped back. It hurt like hell but I knew better than to scream so I tried to focus on blocking anymore shots she might take. My nose was bleeding but my mom just kept swinging. I couldn't keep fighting her off so I was actually thankful when her last blow knocked me to the ground. At last Mom was tired enough to quit thrashing me but she was still spewing insults like "You weak ass little bitch, you're dead to me!" or "I'll kill you!" Even though I should have been used to all of this it still hurt to know that my mom hated my very being, or that the a bottle of whiskey was more to her than what I could be.
After the blows finally subsided I collected myself and went back into the bathroom to clean myself up and catch the bus. When I looked in the mirror I could see that my face was going to be one big bruise but that was no big deal by now. I just want to get the hell out of here. I grabbed my stuff and ran out the door
By the time I got into the school, first bell had already rang. I was grateful for that because it meant that I could avoid the morning rush and my usual battery of insults and jeers from the football team while they through me in trash cans or up against lockers. As I was making my way down the narrow hallway that led to my English class I felt someone tapping me on my shoulder. I turned around, going through the most plausible excuses for my lateness as I did so. In the place of a stern faced teacher or the detention loving principal stood a boy with gray eyes and shoulder length blonde hair. He was wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt with the phrase: Just Do It in blue and green letters on the front of it. I was a little taken aback by his good looks, partly because I did my best not to notice how anyone looked. To do so would mean having to have a conversation so that things wouldn’t end awkwardly. (Not that they weren’t awkward anyway but that was just common courtesy.)
I was still trying to figure out a polite way to excuse myself from a possible conversation when the mystery guy started talking.
"Hi, my name’s Kyle." "I’m new here and really lost so would you mind telling me where room one- twelve is?"
My heart skipped a beat. He was in my English class and that meant he would be impossible to avoid. I was seriously considering walking away and pretending I didn’t hear him but he was new here so I decided it would be too rude just to leave him lost and confused.
"I have that class now so you could just follow me if you want."
"Thanks, that’d be great." He smiled at me revealing his perfectly white teeth
"No problem." "You have a really great smile."
Oh my God! What am I saying? I’m just trying to be a nice person, not become the new kid’s best friend! Note to self: Keep as much distance between yourself and the new guy as humanly possible. Once Kyle and I reached Mrs. Stevens’ room, I took my usual seat in the very back of the class hoping Kyle would sit closer to the front so the we wouldn’t have to talk but as my luck would have it he took the seat right next to mine.
Just focus on the class. Just focus on the class. I kept repeating the same thought over and over in my head but it was difficult to keep my eyes from wandering back to Kyle or remembering those striking gray eyes. I found this infuriating. What in the hell is wrong with me! My goal is to avoid contact with people not go head over heels for a guy I just met. Okay, that was the wrong phrase to use because I do not have any feelings for this guy whatsoever!
As if to prove this to myself, I slid my desk as far away from his as the straight rows would allow. Other people in the class turned around and gave me varying looks of confusion and anger because I’d broken their concentration but I really didn’t care. All I wanted was to show Kyle that I had no interest in creating any type of relationship with him but it seemed that he wasn’t getting the message because he would turn and give me one of his blindingly white smiles when he thought no one else was looking. Despite my best efforts to ignore him I found myself blushing every time our eyes met.
After what seemed like hours of trying to rid myself of the annoying redness in my cheeks and making futile attempts to keep Kyle off of my mind, the bell finally rang. I shoved my books back into my bag and headed for the door, keeping my head down the entire time. I wanted to avoid any more run-ins with Kyle for the rest of the day and I couldn’t afford to be late to another class.
Math class was usually the easiest time of the day for me. I was really good with the numbers and equations and aced every test but today was a different story. It sounded like Mr Mitchell was speaking Greek and I couldn’t remember any of the previous material.. All of my thoughts kept going back to my morning meeting with Kyle. Maybe I should give him a chance instead of running away from him. If I show some interest he’ll stop trying so hard and I’ll be able to think straight. That settles that. I’ll talk to him tomorrow morning if I don’t see him again today. I couldn’t help but to breathe a sigh of relief. Things might turn out alright and I could finally stop being such a loner.
Despite the fact that the school day was over and I would soon be forced to go back to my house and find my crazy ass mother passed out on the couch or in another fit of rage directed at something I couldn’t control, I was in high spirits. I felt like I was finally free to let someone in.
When I entered my house I didn’t see my mom anywhere at all. I started to hope that she was still out with her drinking buddies at one of the local bars. That would give me time to plan out what I was going to say to Kyle tomorrow. Should I be bold enough to ask him out to lunch or should I let him make the first move? If I was up front about my interests would it scare him away? But what if I wait too long and he falls for someone else? I was still deep in thought when I heard my mother stumbling up the stairs toward my room. I was already braced for a fight when she came crashing through my door.
"There you are, you worthless sonofabitch!" Her speech was so slurred that it sounded like deryooerryoowordthesssunnabeech! But regardless of the way she spoke I knew I was going to have to bob and weave to avoid another black eye or broken nose so I put both my hands in front of my face because that’s usually where she struck first. She took my defensive move as an invitation to beat me within an inch of my life. Her first blow connected with my jaw but I could tell it wasn’t broken because it didn’t hurt badly enough. I tried to push her off of me but that was wasted effort so I just kneed her was hard as I could in the stomach. She doubled over cursing me the entire time.
I took her moment of temporary weakness to catch my breath and examine the various parts of my body that had been kicked, punched, or scratched during the struggle. My arms were bleeding a little and my legs were going to be pretty sore and bruised up in the morning but that was the worst of the damage so far. My reprieve didn’t last very long though, because my mom had managed to get back on her feet and she looked like she was ready to kill me. As if reading my mind, she picked up the mirror that was lying on my dresser and threw it at me. I jumped back but I wasn’t quick enough to miss the hit. The mirror shattered, sending shards of glass into the air as well as my skin.
I fought back the urge to scream and fall to my knees in pain because that would only make things worse. My mother hated weakness, especially in her opponents and if she sensed any sort of chink in my armor I might not live to see another day. I pushed myself forward trying to block the constant flow of punching and scratching and biting from damaging my face more than what it already had.
My mom finally grew bored with me and staggered out of the room. I was in so much pain that all I wanted to do was curl up in a little ball and sleep and considering I really didn’t have the energy to do much else, I heaved myself up onto the bed where I was asleep within minutes.
The morning after my fight with Mother hurt worse than I thought it would. My head felt like someone was trying to rip my brain out of my skull with a fork. I had bruises and scratches everywhere and my jaw felt like it was broken. I realized with a pang of sadness that I'd probably lost any shred of luck I might have had with Kyle. Despite that, I still had to make it to school, if only to make up for lost time. I made my way into the bathroom and started to wash away the caked on blood left over from last night.

Once I had regained some sense of what it felt like to be clean, I began searching through my closet for something warm to wear. I settled on a black fleece sweater and a pair of sweats. Since my wardrobe didn't account for much I decided to put a little extra effort into my hair. Instead of just putting it up in its usual ponytail I pulled out my curling iron and set to the task of making myself look half way decent.

When I was finally satisfied, I walked over to my mirror and gave myself a once over before heading out the door. This morning it appeared .that God had finally heard my prayers because dear old mom was nowhere to be seen. She must have went down to the bar to get a head start on her daily drinking binge. This realization kept my spirits light as I set off toward. the bus stop.

As I got on the bus, I saw that just about everyone on it was staring at me with looks of confusion and disgust. Even the bus driver kept giving me sideways glances. "What's wrong with me? I wondered to myself and then I got a good look at my face in the rearview mirror. I hadn't gotten all of the glass out of my face, my left eye was swollen, and my right cheek was bruised.

I hadn't really paid much attention to all of that when I'd been getting dressed because I was so used to being covered with cuts and scratches but this time I was as shocked as everyone else around me at the way my face looked. Not to mention embarrassed. I made my way to the seat at the back of the bus, which thankfully was free of people, put my head in between my knees and tried to imagine I was somewhere else

By the time we pulled into the bus parking lot, tears were streaming down my face. This was incredibly annoying because I hated crying in front of people or in general. Thankfully I had some Kleenex in my jacket pocket. I dabbed my cheeks and eyes as gently as I could before practically sprinting into the building.

We were supposed to wait in the cafeteria until seven forty and it was only seven twenty so I decided to kill some time by going through the breakfast line and picking up a blueberry muffin. Most of the tables were crowded with people which made it extremely difficult to find a place to be alone so I settled on sitting with the nerds because they seemed to be the least interested in the girl with the messed up face.

I was about half way through my muffin when I felt someone lightly tapping my shoulder. It was Kyle. Oh my God! I can't let believe he's going to see me like this! But I can't blow him off either. What am I supposed to do? My mind and heart were still racing when I finally turned around.

"Hiya, stranger." He said, giving me one of those amazing smiles

"H-hi Kyle." "What are you doing here?"

"I go to school here remember?" "We have first period together."

"Oh... Right." I stammered feeling like a total idiot.

"I never did catch your name." He cocked his head and waited patiently for my reply.

"M-my name's Skylar."

"Pretty name for an even prettier lady."

"Thanks Kyle." I said trying to ignore the heat that was rising in my cheeks

"No problem." "I'll see you later."

"Wait!"

"Yes?" he asked, giving me a puzzled look.

"I know this is kind of strange considering we just met but do you want to get together after school sometime?"

"Sure, I'd love to but how are we going to set it up if I don't have your number?" he chuckled a little

"Right, sorry." I snatched a piece of paper out of one of my binders, quickly scribbled my number on it, and passed it to him

"No biggie." he said taking the paper off of the table and sticking it in the pocket of his jeans.


i was just turning to leave when Kyle spoke again. "You wouldn't mind if I walked with you?" "All of those turns are still kind of confusing."

"No problem." i said giving him a half smile.

We pushed our way through the crowds of people blocking the doorway without speaking to each other but once he was sure we were alone, Kyle asked me the question I dreaded answering:

What happened Skylar?" he gestured toward my face

How could I avoid explaining my mother's violent outbursts and her drinking problem? I could just tell him that I fell but I was pretty sure he wasn't going to buy it. What to do? This is why I never wanted to get involved with Kyle in the first place! I looked up to see him patiently awaiting my answer. His eyes showed genuine concern that would probably disappear the minute I let him see a glimpse of the real me. What was there to lose? It’s not like we're going to get married or anything. I tried to comfort myself with these thoughts but I was really scared of losing Kyle. He was the only person who'd bothered to notice my existence or show me any kindness at all. I wondered if the truth could really set you free.

"My mom and I got into a fight." I hung my head and waited for him to run off like everyone else but instead he gently pulled me into his arms and started stroking my hair. It felt nice to be held so I just let things happen.
"I'm so sorry" he said softly
"It's Oka-" Kyle cut me off with a tender kiss. His lips were so warm and soft that I couldn't resist bringing him closer. It suddenly didn't matter that we were in the middle of a hallway or that people were staring at us. Kyle broke our first kiss sooner than I liked but I knew there would be time for later. We couldn't be late or we'd spend our first day as a couple in detention.