Scars

                I check my watch, wondering whether I've missed fourth period or not; luckily, I haven’t, and so Miss McGregor won’t be able to give me a detention for being late. I go to pull my blazer sleeve down but I can’t. I just stare down at the deep marks; they look burgundy in contrast to the now-purple flesh that they are embedded in. My arm is tattered in pale pink scratches, but half was down my forearm lie three, new, purple bruises. They are almost all perfect circles; two of them are flecked with yellow and grey, while the other is turning brown. I am actually fairly surprised, as they usually don’t start to brown until the start of the fourth day after the incident. I trace one which overlaps the crook of my elbow. I let out a gasp as it stings, the bruise pulsing angrily at me. Shaking my head, I roll down the sleeve and take a deep breath. Only twenty-four and a half more weeks until summer. One hundred and forty-eight days and I will be out of here and away from this.
                My feet tap lightly on the tiled floor as I stand. My back groans and my legs sting, but I forget to cry out. I’m getting used to the pain; that is, until I realize that something warm is trickling slowly down my right leg. I bite my lip, trying to swallow the sadness behind my face. I remind myself that my leggings are so thick and black that no one will see. I just have to live through the pain and play along with society.
                I collect myself by taking another huge breath. I flush the toilet " even though there was no need to " in case anyone is in the school bathroom. Something that I have learnt to do over the years to keep people off of my back. A smile lifts on my face as I wash my hands and look in the mirror above the porcelain bowl. My face looks tired, but that is common among Year 10’s and 11’s. Pale foundation tints my face,  covering fast-disappearing grey bruises; oddly enough, my eyes match that fading grey. My eyelids shine with thin cat eyes and glitter light brown. My eyelashes are covered with a Maybelline mascara; at least I look decent today. I’m not one of those pretty girls who think that they’re ugly, or ones that wear inches of makeup to make them look attractive; I’m average looking girl with long curls and too many spots. Makeup covers up my scars because I can’t embrace them. I can’t embrace them because they aren't my own. And they never will be.

 

                “Hey, you alright?” Katie joins up with me outside one of the science labs as the bell rings. She takes my bruised arm in hers. I don’t even flinch, even as a searing pain jolts up my arm. Instead, I smile at her and nod. “I’m fine, why?” She shrugs as we make our way along the long corridor towards the English Department. “You just took a long time in the bathroom.” Katie says. We carry on walking down the corridor, ignoring the throng of teenagers around us. A boy to my right runs past, brushing my other arm; the pain as his broad shoulder collides with my shoulder blade makes me cry out as the sting blinds me. My bag comes flying off of my shoulder and a pile of books cascade onto the floor, pages flying everywhere. I fall to my knees, almost pulling Katie down with me.
                “Ahh!” the boy stops, half leaning, half falling onto the stone wall. “I’m so sorry!” he runs back to us, and starts collecting my books as I sit up, rubbing my head. “Ouch. That hurt.” I manage to say. Pain erupts from my hips and I have a feeling that a few stitches on my stomach- that remind me of the operation I had two weeks ago " have ruptured. My hand moves from my head to my side, as I start to pick up my loose pages with my free hand, ignoring the dazzling stars in front of my gaze.
                “I am so sorry!” The boy rambles, ducking down to pick up my things. “I didn't see you. Gosh, here, here.” He hands me pages. “I am so sorry!” I nod, looking up at him. I don’t see much of his face as he stares down at his hands, but his eyes shine through the shadows. They are sparking blue, like the sea on a calm day. Like the sky when the sun is large and illuminates the ground below.
                “It’s alright.” I say, pushing my books back into my bag. He looks up at me and smiles; it takes me a little while to realize that I am smiling and blushing slightly. However, Katie does not approve and is less than impressed. “You idiot! How did you not see her?! She’s just had an operation, you klutz! You could have really hurt her!” I blush brighter as the crowd of students moving past us stop to stare at me. I stand up, gasping as my side aches. The klutz’ face also burns bright red. “I am so sorry! Look, I really am. But I really need to go.” He turns and starts sprinting away before Katie has another chance to yell at him; instead, she decides to scowl at his fast moving figure.
                “Are you okay?” she finally asks. I nod, but she gives me a disapproving look as I gasp in pain. “My stitches hurt a bit. But nothing major. They hurt a lot of the time.” Katie sighs and takes my bag from me. “Come on then. If we are late, Miss McGregor won’t care that you got run-over by an asshat.” I force myself to laugh and Katie’s sweet smile returns. She tries so hard to protect everyone, but sometimes she can’t. Keeping her clueless is the hardest thing to do, but it is the only way that I can protect her.

 

                The rest of the day flies by as I sit in my remaining classes, listening to lectures and watching experiments. By the time the last bell goes, the sun has retreated back behind an aged cloud as it starts to droop.  I collect my things from History, making sure to write down my homework, and rush to the gym locker room. I’ve been dying to return to the floor for the last three weeks, but only now do I have the chance to see it.
                Quickly, I change, ignoring my body, making sure I am changed before the others arrive. Of course, I can’t wear a leopard, but leggings and a long sleeved jumper do just as well. I rush into the gym and my heart soars as I see all of the gym equipment. I've been practicing dance since I was five, ever since I started Primary School. We had a teacher come in every Wednesday to do Ballet with the Infant girls, and ever since, I’ve loved it. I started to practice gymnastics when I was eight, after being recommended by my aunt to Marie Joseph, who is still my coach today.
                The gym is cold when I walk in and almost deserted. I almost don’t notice him until I hear the vault groan. I turn towards the sound and that’s when I see him. The boy who ran me over in the hall this morning is performing on the vault. I start heading towards him, but stop before I've even started. His routine leaves me transfixed. His stance is upright and firm, yet he still moves with incredible precision and flexibility. His footwork is delicate and his feet are perfectly pointed. I watch, my mouth ajar, as I watch him somersault above the bar. Handstand, somersault, handstand somersault. Backwards. There is never a foot out of line or a slight tremble. He jumps off of the edge of the vault, performing two perfect somersaults before landing. His feet stay glued to the mat under his toes as he does not tremble. He obviously notices his success as he lets out a deep breath and calls out, excited. He turns his head and notices me; he smiles and foolishly, I smile back. He starts walking towards who I think is me, but I stop as Marie jogs towards him, clapping. “Well done, Drew. That was, well, perfection, basically.” They both laugh. Drew takes a sip out water bottle which was laying by the edge of the mat. I cradle mine, trying not to chew the cap like I do when I’m nervous. Instead, I stand there swaying, listening to their conversation.
                “That was just amazing, Drew. How long have you been training.” Drew takes a long drink before replying. “I started when I was ten. I started to branch out with different sports then. I started to take up badminton, tennis, gymnastics and swimming and not just football and basketball. My dad was a PE teacher, see.” Marie nods, her short hair ruffling.  Marie (I thought) was fairly tall, but she looks a lot shorter standing by Drew. Her skin looks tanned, an odd sight as it is still winter; her pixie-cut hair is streaked blonde and she seems slimmer and happier. If I ever come out of a shady divorce, I evidently can’t do wrong if I end up looking like her.
                Marie and Drew laugh and I stare up at them; Marie finally spots me and leads Drew over to me. “Drew, this is Cassie. She’s one of our higher level gymnasts.” I stare at Drew wide-eyed and he stares back, slightly embarrassed as he recognizes my face. “Oh, um, we've already met.” Drew says. Marie looks surprised. “He kind of ran me over in the corridor after third lesson.” I tell her and Marie nods. Drew blushes scarlet. “I am really sorry about that.” I shrug it off. It doesn't really matter, after all. A fall like that is nothing. “It’s alright. And don’t worry, none of my stitches ruptured.” I lied. In fact, my bottom most stitches had split, but not too severely. After a trip to the Nurse’s Room, my stitches were covered in gauze and some of the cuts on my legs were covered by vibrant blue plasters.
                He smiled. “Oh good. I’m just sorry I wasn't looking were I was going. I’m not very good with perception.” All three of us chuckled. An echoing crash made me spin around to see most of the team enter. Four of the girls came in, followed by two guys, making the team overall 4 short. The others who had just joined us smiled and waved before starting to jog around the gym. Drew nodded at Marie and I before joining the others. Marie turned to me. “What are you going to start doing because I know you can’t do much because of your operation, so it’s really your choice what to do, just as long as you don’t over exert yourself.” I smile at her. “I might just do some floor work. Not any jumps or anything. Just a bit of dance.” Marie smiled at me; it wasn't a regular smile, but the sort that a mother gives you when she knows that you aren't being entirely honest. “What? Did I do something?” I ask, but Marie just looks at me, that strange smile etched on her face. “No. You haven’t done anything wrong.” She shuffles on her feet. “You do know that you can tell me anything? Anything at all.” My heart drops into my stomach. Panic waves over me, making me feel dizzy again. Can she noticed my marks? Or am I acting weird or strange? “Um, thanks.” I say, as I make my way over to a wall to stretch. My heart is pounding to the sound of drums played shakily. Could she know? Am I not covering it up well enough? Questions buzzed inside my mind. I ached mentally as well as physically as I started to stretch. I have to be more careful, the voice inside my head tells me. The only thing worse than hiding my secret is for my secret to be revealed.

 

My plan to be careful failed almost instantly. I was dancing on the large floor mats, getting to grips with the steps; I was shaky on the floor, not as firm or solid as a dancer as I usually was. I tried to spin but my feet twisted and I fell onto my back. The mat thumped loudly as I fell and the jolt I felt as the floor and I connected made all my bones vibrate painfully. I hissed in pain as I sat up, rubbing my back. “Are you alright?” someone called. Black dots shimmered in my line of sight, ,making me unable to see the owner of the call. The next moment, however, I felt a pair of soft hands, one on my back and the other on my leg. I turned and found myself face to face with Drew. “Huh?” I asked, rubbing my head, ignoring the fact that his hands were placed over torn tissue from previous attacks. “Are you okay? Cassie?” I tried to sit up more while he spoke. “Um, uh-huh. I’m fine.” Drew didn't believe me as he helped me to sit up properly. “How many fingers am I holding up?” Marie had rushed over and was frantically waving her hand in front of my nose. “Four. Four! Marie, I’m fine, okay! I just tripped. I’m rusty.” Marie let out a breath of relief but Drew looked less than convinced. “I think you should go home, Cassie. You have done a lot of practice today, and after been away for a month. Drew, I’d like you to stay for a bit longer if that’s okay?” Drew nodded as Marie got called over by another student. Stretching his hand out, Drew tried to help me up, but I blew him off; “I’m fine, really, I am. Thanks though.” He bit his lip before walking off. Two pairs of eyes belonging to two of the other girls here stared at me suspiciously as I gazed at them out of the corner of my eye.  Ignoring them, I stared up at the glass ceiling, noticing how the fading light still illuminated the sky using vibrant blues and pinks. Even in winter, the sky was still impressive.
                Echoing around the room, the loud clink emitted by the double doors makes my head turn; two figures slip into the room, searching for someone. The little boy started running towards me before I realize that it is my mum and little brother. “Hey, Liam,” I say as he tackles me in a hug, making us both fall backwards. “Hey mate. I didn't know you were coming to see me.” I say as we sit up. He smiles at me, a large, teeth-revealing smile. “You lost a tooth!” I exclaim as I see the black gap on his bottom row of teeth. His eyes sparkle as he nods. “I wanted to show you that I lost a tooth! Mummy says if I put it under my pillow, the tooth fairy will come and see me!” I look up, noticing our mum towering over us. “We were at The Bakery when he bit into an apple and his tooth fell out. He refused to go home until we had come here to show you.” I smile as I look up at her, but as I see her face, my smile fades away rapidly. She looks shabbier, her blonde hair dull and droopy, her eyes embedded in black circles.  She looks so much older than the thirty-two that she actually is. But this isn't the time or place or time to mention it.
                “I was actually about to go and get changed if you guys wanted to go out to eat or something.” I say, replied with a squeak of excitement from Liam. “Can we? Can we?” he begs our mother.  She ponders the thought. “You did just eat though. And I don’t have much cash on me.” I stand up, taking my brother’s hand. “Well, I've got to get changed and I have homework and things to do so we don’t have to go straight away. And I have plenty of money on me.” My heart twangs as I realize how much I really don’t want to go home. That I have realized before, but now it seems that I just don’t want to be around my mum. How could someone’s daughter think that about their own mother?
                “Okay then, I guess. How long will you be getting changed?” She asks, taking Liam’s hand. “Not long,” I say. “Fifteen minutes max. I can shower here.” I pick up my water bottle, kiss Liam on the head and leave the room. My head no longer is painful, but my heart hurts even more than my head ever did.

 

 

Author's Note

Some scenes in this may be distressing to other viewers. This is also unfinished.