Book 2

I yearned to cry, but tears never came. I pressed the back of my hand to my upper lip to find blood tricking out of my nose. I looked over my body, examining all my new injuries. I had bruises all up my calves and a huge bruise on my thigh from his bulky boots. My wrist was sore, but I don't think it was broken. My entire abdomen was a mix of purple and yellow and the scratch down my back was at least a foot and a half long. I felt my cheek; it was still warm from his forceful blows. It had been worse than this before. I stumbled to the kitchen holding my nose shut. I turned the faucet on and a pumping noise emitted from under the sink, but water never spilt out of the rusted spout. (Damn, the water bill.) We barely had enough money for the milk and ramen noodles stocked in our fridge. I grabbed the damp rag that laid on the counter and brought it to my nose. It reeked of mildew so strongly that I had to hold my breath as I wiped my lip. I drew the blinds and the room was engulfed by darkness. I sunk down into a chair at the kitchen table. I cupped my hands and covered my face.