Holding On To You

“LINDSEY!” My eyes fly open. “Lindseyyyy why aren’ttt you a-awake?! Get t-the FUCK out of my housssse!” My mom shouts at me, slurring her words. Great she’s still drunk from last night. I jump up now completely alert and run to the shower. Waiting for it to get hot I strip down and examine myself in the mirror. Fuck, I look like shit. Jagged scars litter my body, especially along my wrists and thighs. I stare angrily at my fat, ugly thighs and huge, gross hips. I don’t understand, my ribs are easily countable and my collarbone is very pronounced along with my sunken cheeks with high cheekbones, but I’m still unhappy. Just end it, the voices whisper, like he tells you, like the kids tell you. It would make everyone happier. The steam from the now hot shower clouds the mirror, so I step in.

I scrub at yesterday’s cuts on my left thigh, washing away the dried blood. After, I hurriedly dress myself, grabbing a pair of tights that looks like it doesn’t have holes and yank on my short skirt. Pulling on a black long sleeved sweater, I throw on some eyeliner and my defining red lipstick, grab my very filled sketchbook and messenger bag before quickly existing the house as quietly as possible. Mom is passed out on the couch, a bottle of vodka in one hand and a picture of her and dad in the other. They are both super young in the photo; maybe 19, with grungy 90s clothes on. My father is groping her boob, funnily enough and she’s just grinning, probably high as always, letting him do whatever to her, as always. The thing is, as long as I’ve been alive he and her have always had contact with each other, actually, I don’t know if you can call sex having contact because they never actually talk, just fuck. I don’t understand it. He sleeps, fucks and abuses us, in this house. That’s all. He doesn’t eat here, or relax or do anything you would normally do in your own house, he just basically uses it as a resting pad. To stay alive he must sleep, which he does here, he fucks my mom, which he feels he needs to do to stay alive and abuses us to take out his anger. I brush my fingers across the bruise on my jaw from the last time I saw him, it was two days ago.
Hitching my bag higher on my shoulder I slip out of the door. It’s six o’clock and winter so I’m fucking freezing in my thin tights, skirt, and thin, baggy sweater. It’s too early for school to start but I don’t want mom to wake up and find me in her house so just decide I’ll go early and draw on the steps while I wait. After the long, cold walk I settle under a tree that has a dry patch under it, outside of the school. It’s six forty-five now; just a little longer. After several attempts at sketching, I admit defeat against the frigid December air; my fingers just won’t move properly. Trying to stop my shivering I close my eyes and count the seconds…

RING, RING, RING! The bell jolts me from my nap. I scurry out from under the tree, earning a few stares and mutters from the gathering students. I keep my head down and practically run to my locker. All the sudden I crash to the ground, dropping my bag and sending my art supplies all over the floor.

“Watch it, whore.”

Gerard…shit. I’d hoped I could avoid him today. Scrambling to grab my stuff and not get stepped on by the passing, laughing students I stand up and continue to hurry down the hall, not once looking up and addressing Gerard.

“See you soon, slut.” Gerard’s voice calls after me.

~

My first four classes go slowly. I suck at school, so I take advantage of the heated air to thaw my fingers and then work on my new portrait. It’s a profile view of a boy. I’m not sure who yet, but it’s coming along nicely. The boy is obviously beautiful, with a thick brow, small almost feminine nose and small, thin mouth. I only have the outline of his face, but I’m excited to see what the detail will look like.

When the bell finally goes, I rush out the door. Lunch, fuck. Well, I forgot to pack food, in my rush to leave the house and I don’t want to buy food since the cafeteria is a nightmare for a bullied girl like me, so I head to the bathroom.

“Hey there, slut.” Oh, no…Gerard is leaning against the lockers, blocking my path.
“How was class? Did you manage to fuck anybody’s life up as much as yours?” He asks smirking.

I start to shake my head when a kid starts squeezing his way between us, muttering about us blocking his locker door. I take this opportunity to veer around Gerard and into the bathroom, locking the stall door behind me. I stand on the toilet seat and attempt to calm my breathing so as to not give myself away incase Gerard follows. Not seconds after I enter I hear Gerard’s heavy tread and hear the door fly open. What the fuck is he doing, following me into the girls washroom?

“Lindsey,” his voice is dark and menacing, almost murderous sounding. “Get the fuck out here, Lindsey, or do I have to break down this stall door?”

Shit! He’s found what stall I’m in. When I don’t answer he starts to shoulder the door. It creaks and I see a screw loosen. I whimper slightly when he continues this a few more times. It’s only a matter of seconds now…

“Gerard!” I hear a high pitched flirty squeal. “What are you doing in the girls’ bathroom?” Gerard immediately stops and I hear him shuffle towards the door.

“Nothing, ladies. Just looking for your gorgeous faces.” His dark tone is gone replaced with the one he uses when playing the popular high school jock that everyone wants to be friends with. Cool, charasmatic and sexy, that is the face he wears with those generic cheerleaders that pick on me as well.

After they leave I climb down and just work on my sketch. My stomach growls while I’m working, but I ignore it.

When the bell goes, I head to my three remaining classes. Art is fun, the teacher, Mrs. Tiger, liked my drawing. I decide to go to the New Jersey public library to work more on my drawing and homework, but I don’t make it down the steps before I feel a strong grip in my hair and someone dragging me around the back of the building. When I look up to see its Gerard and I start to whimper. His eyes are fiery, wild and mad. He throws me to the ground in an alleyway between the gym and main building. It’s usually where the smokers hang out, but they leave once they see Gerard. No one messes with him, especially when he preoccupied with me. Everyone knows he loves torturing me and no one ever does a thing.

“So,” he crouches down beside me. “You never answered my question.”

“W-what?” I croak. His hazel eyes bore into mine.

“It seems that we’ve been quite interrupted today. How about we pick up where we left off, sound good?” He gives me a hard punch to the stomach.

“I had asked you how your day was?” His smile scares me.

“F-fuck…you!” I wheeze, clutching my hurt stomach.

“Shut your mouth, you fuck-up.” His fist comes out, punching my eye and jaw. He hits exactly the spot that had a bruise from my dad and I hiss in pain. “You couldn’t fuck anybody’s life as bad as yours even if you tried. I can’t believe you’re still alive. I thought you’d have ended it by now, but you don’t even have the courage to end you miserable little life, you dumb slut.” Kick to my shin. “You’re even worse than I thought.” Finally he punches my nose, defiantly drawing blood.

I’m writhing and whimpering in pain on the cold ground. After a minute, he’s still standing above me watching me with a satisfied grin, I manage to spit out, “You’re the only slut here. Fucking girls left and right. How’s the girlfriend, Gerard?” I don’t know where my courage to insult him comes from. Sometimes it helps me, most times not.

“Oh, Lindsey…” He chuckles. “You really aren’t making things any better for yourself, you know.” He tone turns dark at the end and he gives my stomach another punch. I curl into a tight ball on my side curling around his foot which stood beside my chest. I recoil from his touch and begin to scoot backward away from him. He lets me out from under him before reaching forward, grabbing me by the neck of my shirt and slamming me into the wall. I crumble back to the ground.

He gives me an agonizing kick to my back, I arch involuntarily and cry out in blind pain.
“Don’t test me bitch.” His spit hits my cheek. “You’re a worthless, useless, talentless dumb fuck. I’ll be sure to remind you tomorrow and don’t you dare think of hiding in the bathroom again.”

I lay on the ground waiting for him to leave, before slowly dragging myself to my feet. Pulling my hood low on my face and taking less busy streets, I stumble home.
Gerard is right. Why don’t I just end it? No one in the world would miss me at all. I’m nothing…but I want to prove them wrong. I don’t care if I have to cut to make it by, I’ll do it. I will prove them all wrong. I will become a famous artist and everyone will know how hard I had it. They will hate the people who made me scar myself, who scared me themselves. I will tell everyone my story of how I was beat and broken again and again, but I still got up. I will show the world my wounds and they will help me heal them, right?

~

The trip home takes way longer than usual, on account of my barely being able to walk and taking side roads. Nobody is home, thank God. No, I don’t believe in God, otherwise he would have helped me already. I rush upstairs to grab my razor. One for my drunken mother, for my stupid mistake of an escape from Gerard and my pathetic life. I add three for each of his hurtful words. Worthless-cut-useless-cut-talentless-cut. You’re a slut, whore, dumb fuck…
After my second shower of the day, I dress my wounds and I pull out my sketch book, ignoring my homework. Bruises and cuts cover my jaw, eye and nose. I have a goose egg on my head from when he slammed me into the wall and my nonexistent stomach is littered with fresh cuts that run across the bruises he inflicted with his harsh kicks. My body aches and screams when I move, so I just decide to go to bed early. I do a lot of sleeping. Depressed people usually do.

~

When I wake at three in the morning, I am acutely aware that I haven’t eaten in a whole day. Deciding I’ll leave the house early to grab some food and avoid contact with my mom and dad, I gather my stuff and head to the open 24 hour convenience store a couple blocks away. The animalistic sounds of sex fill my ears when I open my door and I realize, my parents are fucking on the living room floor. Great. I’m good at being quiet though and I really need food. When passing the kitchen, I even manage to snag some change off of the table. I’m almost out the door without being noticed when I hear the angry, panting voice of my dad.

“Lindsey!”

I turn around sharply to face him. “What?”

He doesn’t even stop what he’s doing; just continues pounding my mom into the floor and smirking at me. It’s sickening, but I know better than to ignore him.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, sweetheart?” He voice is deviously sweet and pedophilic sounding. “You wanna join? Get in on some of the action, ya sweet little virgin?” My mom doesn’t make a sound, just little moans and groans from the sex.

I wrinkle my nose at his disgusting incestuous suggestion. “Ew, dad, I was just leaving…”
“Or maybe you’re not a virgin…anybody at school finally got between those thick thighs a yours?”

“FUCK YOU!” I scream.

Suddenly he stops and I know I’ve made a big mistake. He pulls out of my mom and before I can do no more than back up, he’s smashed my head against the wall. I crumple to the ground in an all too familiar fashion.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” He yells in my ear. His half hard cock is right in front of my eyes.

“I-I said…f-f-fuck YOU!” What’s one more punch? I have a million and one already.
Sure enough his fist comes out to smash my nose. Fuck! Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!

“Shut your pretty little mouth or I’ll beat you so bad you’ll sallow your own tongue.”

“Baby,” my mom’s voice pleads. “C’mon, forget about her. You haven’t finished me yet.” She looks at me with hateful eyes as if I’m the cause for her shitty life. “Get the fuck out, Lindsey.”

Her voice is menacing, but the reason I leave isn’t cause I’m scared, it’s cause I’m still starved. I’m not afraid of my dad, at least I tell myself, I’d stay and fight him because of my stupid death wish of a lip, but I need food.

Slipping out from under my dad and out the door, I run all the way to the store. The dark night sky is somehow comforting, the bright twinkling stars that I’ll someday join…

Notes

This is my baby, I hope you like it. It's gonna be a long one. I've been working on it for a while now and I already have a few chapters so I will try to keep a constant schedule and post every Wednesday.
I am also on Ao3 with the same username. You should go check me out cause I'm cooler over there...
I also have another account that I got locked out of on here. Username is: Dead.Pegasus