On a frigid March night, the wind whipped wildly outside. It was cold in my hospital room. With every movement came a rush of cold air that prickled skin. Every hair went straight up. Everything said and done between my mother and I created tension. The silence grew with each tick of the clock, until Dr. Jackson cracked the door and came in.
“So here's the scoop, Leah. You have one broken rib and two fractures and you had a gash on your forehead which we stitched up. You most likely will have a headache for a few days. We're going to wrap up your ribs and then you can go home. Okay?” he said breathlessly.
“I guess,” I quipped.
I gazed out of my window from the third floor. I started thinking about everything that had happened but I didn’t remember much. It was all a haze really. I knew Aaron hit me. We were at school I think. Not sure. I didn’t know how I got here either. Ambulance maybe, or I drove home? I really had no idea . . .
                *        *        *
“I'm done Aaron. I can't put up with this anymore,” I said calmly, lips quivering.
“What the hell are you talking about? You can't just walk away from me. From this. You're mine,” Aaron snarled.
“No, I'm not ‘yours’ actually, news flash, we broke up three months ago!” I snipped back. That's when he lost it. I could see the rage building in his face. My face flushed hot and I couldn't move. He clenched his fist into a ball, and before I could react, I felt it impaling my cheekbone like a hammer. I was on my knees when I felt the tears burning my face as they slowly trickled down. I cautiously stood up.
“You will regret that Aaron Richards,” I spat.
“I doubt it b****, you need a serious reality check. I'm all you have,” he smirked.
I looked him straight in the eye, anger brewing, about to overflow. “Go to hell,” I hissed. I walked to my car, slammed myself into the driver's seat and sped like a phantom out of the lot.
I drove and drove. I got lost in the middle of nowhere, but my thoughts as well. He actually hit me. Me. He hit me.
I felt my head pulsing. Expanding over the spot of impact. I was in shock and I couldn't shake it. Before I knew it, I was pulling into my driveway. I opened the car door, trudged up the steps and walked in. Unsurprisingly, my mother was on the phone. I hoped she didn't hear or see me but, that would've been too easy.
“Leah Maria!”
“What mom!” I wasn't in the mood to be lectured.
“Don’t forget about dinner tonight!”
I ignored her as I walked upstairs and fell on my bed. This is going to kill me.
Two hours later, I was showered with what felt like three masks of concealer. I sat on the couch and went on Twitter, waiting for the queen.
I didn't hear her walk in but when I saw her face, I could tell she was worried. A shock of nervousness had pulsed through me like a drug addict on a high. “What . . .” I whispered.
“Your cheek, Leah,” she whimpered.
I just stared at her worried face for a minute trying to push the tears away. But I couldn't. She sat on the couch and pulled me into her arms, just letting me cry. She took my face in her hands.
“Who did this Leah? Don't you dare lie to me.”
I paused waiting. Trying to get enough nerve to say the name of the vile scum that did this. “Aaron . . .” I mumbled.
That was on July 19th of last year. A day I would never forget.
                *        *        *
When we left the hospital, I was so excited to go home and curl up in bed. Until, the car turned left instead of right. I knew I had a headache but I knew my way home. Home was right. Not left.
“Mom? Where are we going?” I asked calmly.
She didn't answer. The drive was silent and awkward. Worse than any first date I'd ever been on, but then we pulled into the police station . . .
I could barely focus. It was loud, distracting. The lights of cop cars outside had caught my attention and I just stared at them, flickering back and forth, mesmerized.
“Leah?” my mother said faintly.
“What?” I asked.
“Did you see anyone around you Leah, when he hit you,” the cop asked.
“Um, no,” I stated unsure. I couldn't focus. Everything was blurring together. I got a flash of Aaron kicking me in the stomach; I was on the ground, I couldn't breathe. I blacked out and that was it. My phone rang, bringing me back to reality.
“Excuse me,” I said quietly. I stood up, shakily, and walked to the vending machine by the bathroom. I looked at my phone, it was Aaron. I denied it. I breathed and walked back to the cop and my clingy mother. I couldn't stand her lately. She never did anything except apologize and she never actually tried to stop it. Pathetic.
“Can we go? I have a headache,” I whined.

When we got in the car, the silence grew deafening. Until my mother broke it.
“Honey, you're being so strong, I'm so proud of you. This can’t be easy. I'm so sorry you're going through this Leah. You know I love you and I will always be here. I know you're hurting right now and your strength amazes me everyday. I just-”
“Mom, stop. Please,” I interrupted, “Sorry, but just, stop. I don't want to talk about it, please,” I begged.
When the car was in park, I bolted inside and up the stairs, slammed my door and locked it. I laid there and cried. The gasps of air straining my ribs between each agonizing wail. I cried myself to sleep, once again, and nobody even cared . . .

When I woke up, I decided to lay in bed until I smelled fluffy, warm pancakes downstairs. When my mouth was at drooling point, I got up.
There was a plate of pancakes with orange juice and sausage sitting on the table. Pre buttered with syrup. I started eating the heavenly food when my mother yanked out a chair and sat down. At the same time, my father walked in from outside.
“So, Leah, care to tell me what the hell has been going on?” he barked.
“Not really,” I mumbled.
“Well see, your mother tells me it’s all this boy Aaron’s fault but, it seems to me, it all comes back on you. So, care to tell me your version?”
“No,” I said helplessly.
“Fine, then this is your problem. You got yourself into this mess so get yourself out of it. Is that understood?” he howled. I couldn't speak. I couldn't move. I felt trapped in this nightmare I attempted to call my life. I sprinted upstairs, slammed the door and locked it.
“Leah? It’s mom, he’s gone . . . Can I come in?”
    “What,” I said bitterly as I unlocked the door. I went and laid back on my bed.
    “Leah, I know you don’t like your father, and I get it,” She attempted. “It’s not fair, the image you have to go off of but this isn’t what you deserve Leah, you’re beautiful and kind and strong. A man who treats you with respect, encourages you, trusts you, believes in you. That is a true man. They are not easy to come by, but there are some. Just remember not to get lost counting the stars.” And with that, she left.
    Aaron hit me, time after time. And I accepted that, like I somehow deserved to be hit. Like I was the one who messed up, like it was my fault. But, it wasn’t. I always thought my parents were this perfect couple but they weren’t. No relationship is. But I was done. I was over everything. I couldn't take it anymore. I was just done.
I stood up and started walking across my room, pacing, crying. I was screaming at the air around me, listening to the dead silence fill with horror sounds. I gripped the icy, metal bed frame, rocking back and forth, breathing hard. I couldn’t control my breathing and I could feel the air escaping my lungs like a hole in a pipe. A hole in my lung, my stomach, my throat. My life. I knew what I wanted. It was clear in my head but my heart, my heart started heaving with every breath at just the thought.
I looked out the window, my mothers car was gone. I walked to her bathroom in slow, dragged steps, opened the medicine cabinet and clutched the hydrocodone. There was 9 pills left. I took them all, two at a time without hesitation. Throwing the empty bottle in my closet I laid on my bed and I waited. The time seemed to go by agonizingly slow. I started getting tired, I looked at the clock, it was 11:11 pm. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.