Hit Me Again

Our lives as we know it is complete turbulence. I have personally sought out in this novel to cover very touchy, and dramatic situations the average female faces everyday of her life--or at some point. Though no one wants to talk about these horrible things, it is happening and I am going to say it again. We all need love, we all need to know we are loved, and we all will face the inevitable. These girls lives will change no matter if it's for the good, or for the bad.This story contains: [Graphic descriptions, abusive language, drug abuse, violent content]

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2. Through Lia's Eyes

 

Prologue: Lia

It all started when I was eight. The cold blood gradually trickling down my cheek. My left side of my jaw is swollen. Did I fall? Perhaps. Did I trip? Yeah, probably so. Did I love myself? No. Not at all. She hit me, he hit me; they all hit me. Little, innocent Lia. You ask what my back ground is. My parents must have been druggies right? Hopped up on the hardest drug there is, taking their rage out on me. [Pause.] My skin, my skin is my tears. My tears are my wounds, my wounds are my fears. Trapped, secluded, and broken. This is my worth, my troubles are my tokens. Carrying a small part of me each day brings anew. I am bleeding eternally, and my daughters are too.

The ambiance has an unsettling tone that rattles my soul. This place in time was shady, unwelcoming; and evil. Though sometimes as a growing girl I bargained with the wages of death. In one’s life you find out the differences that you possess, and compare it against others and their differences. My flaws are my mines, but not mine alone. I hate that reflection I gaze upon. It looks like she’s bleeding again.

The dark wine colored stains in her panties make her whimper. She balls up in the dirty restroom’s corner. Afraid to even breathe again. Her heart pulsates quicker with each gasp she takes. The girl eyes begin to swell as her emotions overflow unto the creases of her dingy gray shirt. Knocking over the towels that lay carelessly on the nasty white sink, she reaches for the toilet paper.

That very instant when I realized something was wrong with me. I was now thirteen. My stomach had been contracting all day. This time I am going to stay in my room, they rarely beat me if they don’t see me. The toilet paper I crushed in my hands, a large wad of it—I placed inside of my panties. She doesn’t know I am sick. I wonder if this happens to everyone in the world once they realize they are unloved. I bet you are wondering why I wasn’t taught about myself. I have heard the girls speak of such an atrocity, but they spoke of many things that I wasn’t unsure of.

 

Chapter 1: Kristine

 

[Through Lia’s Eyes]

She is just like me, but many qualities about us is a little different. Kicking the dirt, and cursing at herself she feels alone. Kristine never understood her life, lighting up a cigarette. “DAMN!’’ She howls at her lighter that doesn’t want to participate in her self-harm. Why do you do this to yourself Kristy? Something in her thoughtless mind tries to reason with her, but she knows how to block the noise, for long periods of time.

Kristy has on ripped blue jean short shorts, with an off- white halter top. Bold letters across her breast is quoting, “Suck it.” Slender legs walking down the cold pavement decreases her strength for the day. She is wearing her favorite army style black boots with many straps, which hugs her ankle. She has a fearless attitude that hinders the choices she makes. Her hair is shaved on one side, with three big stars in order from smallest to largest aligned on the left side of her head. A Kool-Aid fiery red is cut into a spikey short haired bob on the opposite side. Now why would Kristy mutilate her beautiful hair in that manner? For she says, “I am not my hair.” Okay I get it I guess, but what about the sleazy wardrobe? For she screams, “My clothes does not make me.” Well, I guess you and I got that understood.

 

[Through Kristine’s eyes]

 

It all started when I was twelve. Kerry used to get me high, while my mother was passed out in another world somewhere. His disgusting fingers always wandered across my youthful body, ogling my small tits. He was a sick bastard, that man she loved. He gave me weed, cigarettes, and alcohol. I guess it would numb the pain for something else he was giving me. I didn’t ask for that slop of a man. But that is exactly what he and Laura were. Filthy, stinking pigs. She wallowed with the swine, after he wallowed unto me. I couldn’t tell that drunk bitch anything! And she had the balls to call me a filthy whore?! She had the nerves to abandon me, and put me out after some strange weirdo that liked to molest little girls? The thought of everyone sickened me to the core. I told her before I left, “You made me this way.” It might’ve not been the right thing to do in the heat of the moment, but it damn sure made me feel better. Ever since then, that has been my permanent attitude. “Show no love, nor mercy to them all—they all will betray you in the end.”

 

Do you wonder of the ‘all’ I speak of? When I say ‘all’, I mean in general. This is for everyone I have ever met, or soon to meet. This man right here is another Kerry. He knows I am underage, but age simply doesn’t play a factor in my regards as well as his do. He looks about twenty-six or so. With tattoos along his arms; creating an artistic sleeve. He has a nice car to be looking so rigged and hopeless. He cornered me about three times, watching my demeanor. He couldn’t figure me out I bet. He probably didn’t know if I was a runaway, or I was working out here for some small dude on the strip. Whatever my situation was, he didn’t care. They never do, the people of this world only looks out for themselves. I never met anyone yet that hasn’t been rotten on the inside, or far from it.

 

Who do I blame? I blame myself for being here. I blame myself for looking like The Circus, and this idiot right here just gawks at me. He will not go away no matter how many times I look him off. This is just sad.

Kristy rolls her eyes, flicking the man in the black sports car off. She doesn’t know he watches her every day, and he knows she is homeless. He knows she is not a prostitute. But he doesn’t care. All he is waiting for is the perfect opportunity for her to slip up.

What?! “You like my ass or something?’’ [Shouted.]

“Get the hell outta here you fuckin’ creep!” [Ugh.] I swear to God it is like this for me every day. These people don’t care about if I lived or died. This meat sack only cares for his tiny meat sack. Then he wants to drive away all angrily, splashing dirty water on my clothes. I am wearing a few of my clothes that I have. Really I don’t own anything else. I hate it when they do this to me. I have nowhere to go, and the people around doesn’t make my life any easier. Actually my life is really depressing. I only feel like; why does this have to happen to me? If I could be anywhere in the world—where would I be?

Lia just walked passed Kristy swiftly. Though Lia may look a little neater than Kristy, she isn’t having such a good life herself. Right now they barely know anything about each other, they will soon find out. Kristy shouts at Lia.

“Hey you! Girl, come here!” I am gonna get her for her jacket. She thinks evilly to herself.

“Oh—so you are just gonna ignore me huh? Don’t make me chase you!’’

Threatened by Kristy’s abusive swagger, Lia disappeared into a little store.

“I hate stuck-up bitches [mutters] they always think they are better then you.”

 

Now why would Kristy think like that about Lia? Did Lia really think she was ‘better’ than Kristy? Yes Lia has on nice clothes, and seems to be content in her life. But that doesn’t always mean that is a person’s case. We put on the makeup, and the glamorous jewelry to hide the scars from within. She seems perfect, but you and I know that she is far from perfect. Actually she is screaming on the inside of her crying soul.

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