Holding On

Rose, the word ponders around my crammed mind and all it ever picks out is the color red. Red, the color of love, anger, blood. My name is inexplainable. My life, was inexplainable, until I met him.

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1. Red as a Rose

I really did it this time. I told my mother he hit me, with proof of the purple bruise he smacked into my sore backside last week while she was at a close cousin's baby shower. She didn't believe me until my father walked in the room, his expression turned hard as his fists clenched until his knuckles were white. I hugged my mom tight and screamed into her shoulder. 

"Don't let him hurt me!" Her hazel eyes widened as my angered father walked up to us.

"Rose, go to your room, now!" He demanded. If I denied, I was in for a beating. I obeyed and walked to my room with worry absorbing my hurting soul. I heard yelling from outside my door. When I was younger, my father came home severely drunk and punched a hole into my wooden bedroom door. I used it as an advantage when my parents fought, by placing my ear at the hole. He somehow convinced my mother to go back to work, after all she did have 3 long hours to go. Sadly, she was only on lunch break.

After I heard the front door close, I prepared myself. The bedroom door flew open, shoving me back towards my purple wall paper.

The sudden force against my cheek took me by surprise. I stumbled to my left, wincing as another palm mark branded itself into my throbbing skin.

"I told you to not tell your mother, Rose! You're a no good piece of shit!" His bold tone frightened me as I became small to the world. I fell to my knees and crawled to the corner of my room. My father marched over to me and kicked my stomach.

"I-I'm sorry! I won't do it again I pr-" Bam, another blow to my stinging flesh. I cried out in pain as I collapsed to the bloody carpet. My injured body lay limp as he stared furiously down at me. Blood was left in hardened puddles, from previous beatings. I looked up at my father as my brown iris's began to go for an unwanted swim.

"You do it again, I'll beat the living shit out of you. Do you understand?!" His voice was harsh and I flinched, thinking he was going to hit me once more, deepening the already swollen and red mark.

"Y-yes, Father, I understand completely." My words came out in a whisper. My father just nodded at me angrily, and stormed off out of my room, slamming the already broken door. I brought my shaking knees to my head.

"All I want is out, it's all I want!" I mumbled, tears strolling down my burning cheeks.

He only ever hits me when mom isn't home. When she is, you couldn't even consider him as a cruel person. The way he leaves his gentle kisses to her neck when she walks through the door. Complimenting anything visible while roses do the salsa around her unharmed face. He made her feel so alive, a princess even. You could say I played the mouse. Always stuck in traps and unable to escape from the tiny cage I was locked in.

There are times that I love my father. The rare smile that was painted on him from ear to ear was contagious. It only had its surprise appearance when we went mini-golfing or when he's around his wonderful friends, who at times, I wish were my father.

My red, irritated eyes darted to my cell phone after it vibrated several times. I smiled weakly grabbing it.

"1:00." I whispered. The only hour where I get to do as I please.

I cautiously gathered myself off of the floor. Slowly, I walked into the living room. My father glared at me and then to the clock before nodding in his approval.

"Thank you." I nodded at him and walked outside, absorbing the fresh winter scene. Naked trees swayed back and forth, dancing with the chilly breeze. I started towards the park before I caught eyes with an unfamiliar face.

I studied his figure hard, determining if the mystery man truly was new. He looked up from his iPhone, locking eyes with mine. I quickly darted my head down and began walking again before I heard footsteps scuff behind me. I stopped and turned around. To my surprise, there was a handsome man smiling at me.

"Hi," He held out his hand for me to shake. "I'm, Louis."

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