Chapter 9

Going to school was fun after my first beating. Ok, not really. The second week I went to school after my incident I stopped wearing long sleeve shirts because it's too hot in Texas. My scars weren't fading any though. I will never forget that first day I wore a t-shirt to school with the scars on my right arm. The big rumor was that I was a cutter. I wish it was that easy. I mean, I wish I did just cut my arm, instead of David giving them to me. Now I have a constant reminder of him all over my body. At least if I was a cutter, than whenever I looked at my arm I wouldn't have to be reminded of David.

I can still hear all the whispers, rumors that I heard that year. Why do kids have to be so cruel? I didn't do anything to them. If anything, it should have been David who was the talk of the school. After all, he was the real monster. No one knew that, though. Not even me. I was so convinced that there was nothing wrong with David, that I truly did deserve everything he did to me. Everything. I so badly wish I could just go back in time, so I would have the guts to end it after my first beating.

Each beating got worse. Sending me to the hospital after every one. The second time he beat me was at my house. Of course, no one was home. He was too smart for that. Mom and dad were also convinced that he was the 'perfect' boyfriend. Yea, he was a real treat, alright. This beating was over something stupid, like the first one. We were upstairs in my room, just talking like we usually did. We could talk about anything. But that's what made David so bad, some days when we would talk he would be the sweetest guy you would ever meet. Other days he would start out like that, but he would turn into this monster. A monster that I thought only came out when I did something bad.

This time what made him snap was that I put down his favorite band. That was it. He loved AC/DC, I didn't care for them. So, I was just joking around when I said, "I don't really like AC/DC". I didn't yell it or anything, in fact, I remember I was laughing when I said it. But that got him going. He got that look in his face again. It was the monster coming out. I knew I did something wrong. I didn't know what until he started yelling about how stupid I was for not liking AC/DC.

The next thing I remember David picked me up off the bed. He was carrying me and I know I was kicking and screaming this time. I was so afraid to find out what he had in store for me. He walked out of my bedroom door and headed for our staircase. I can remember David actually lifting me up over his head before he dropped me down our 16 stairs. Luckily they were carpeted.

Everything after that is kind of faint because I am pretty sure I went unconscious by the time I hit the bottom. I just remember waking up in the hospital with mom standing next to me. She told me when she came home I was lying at the bottom of the stairs, not moving and not responding. Of course, David just left me there, to die most likely. But thankfully mom came home before. She just thought I fell down the stairs, I never did tell her differently.

So, my second time in the hospital, I was there more than a day. I had to stay for a couple of nights because I got a concussion from the fall, so the doctors wanted to keep a close eye on me. Plus my left ankle was sprained and my right arm (again) was fractured. That was real fun.

My second beating wasn't even a month after my first. This time I had to miss school because I was in the hospital. Jebbie came to see me in the hospital both days. Again, David never came. I was glad in a way, though. I didn't really want him to see me like that. I think the teachers were starting to get worried about me. I remember Mrs. Jacobs came to see me in the hospital that time. I think she knew the real truth. She had been through more than I knew at that point.

When I finally got to go home, I had to be in a wheelchair for like a week because I couldn't use crutches because of my arm. What a thrill that was. Again, my parents let me stay home from school until my ankle was better. I had to go to school with a cast on my arm for about a week though. They weren't going to let me miss that much time.

Again, I heard more whispers. It was worse this time. Now I was a 'clumsy cutter.' Everyone heard I fell down the stairs, but no one knew about David. Only a few people knew we were going out at that time, but no one knew about David's 'other side'. I guess you could say only a selected few knew. But not if I could help it...