Gutterface

Rain hazed down into the paved streets where a woman pushed her way out of her vehicle and sighed up at the windows of the hospital. Her hair dampened and stuck to her face as she  caught attention of the hospital window with a light on.

Inside the room, the walls were painted ash, faded with age; framed with paintings of flowers and motivational posters hanging overhead. The furniture was a light beige loveseat and matching chair. Tables places in anonymous order decorated with fake flowers in pots and bronze lamps with white shades. A girl laid asleep in the casket disguised as a hospital bed.

When her eyes opened, emerald jewels outlined in yellow, her hair was off-white that was long on one side and short on the right, just barely covering the scar that started from the corner of her mouth across her entire cheek. Her eyes fixated on the light. The memories began to flood into her head. The tragic accident that left her weak and vulnerable. A wound on her face that gave her a name that stained her even when the wound healed and the scar was bared.

Her name was Silence, Silence the Gutterface.

Outside the hospital room the woman  with wet hair stood she began analyzing the patient. Seeing what sort of responses she had and how bad the damage was this time around. Only having this particular white haired girl twice now she had become quite fond of her. Even without the normality or even general structure at home she somehow managed to function as if nothing were wrong. This amazed...as well as terrified the doctor.

"How do you feel?"

No response.

The doctor began to check at the scar, she had to completely reinvent her cheek skin which did justice to her nickname. While growing up, the bad things in life didn't grow apparent until Silence's teen years. Her parents were alcoholics, not in the social way either, in the disgusting almost sickening way. The fights between the adults were sever and happened regularly. They were always loud enough for the 16 year old girl to curl up into a ball and remain quiet.

When it was a normal battle between the parents it could be ignored by her music; large round headphones that prevented any violent sounds to filter through. As she ignored the disturbance, another voice on the other side played to an audience of one.

Before the door could just be closed as well...that is until her dad decided to knock it down. The alcohol acting as a steroid making him tremendously strong.

Until this particular night, the night she was branded with such a hideous nickname. She was riled, and ran out with determination to stop her parents and bring back some normality. It ended with the broken glass to her face and the faint memory. The faint memory of innocence that bled out onto the floor.

Author's Note

I wrote this last year for my writing class. She wanted us to tell a tale of wisdom, I think there is something we can learn from this.