The Last Hit

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It started off as any other day. I woke up to the sound of screaming coming two doors down. Waking up tiredly, I walked out of my room softly and quietly not wanting to draw the attention onto myself. Safely I got to the bathroom. Washing my face the door flew open. Turning to make sure it was not him, my mother’s new boyfriend, I burnt my eyes from the soap. Rubbing my eyes trying to get the burn away my cheek started to burn. He had hit me. He has a name but I prefer to call him “him”. This was not anything out of the ordinary he did this a lot. Not only did he hit me he hit my mom also. I begged my mom to leave him but he had a lot of money and kept us from being on the street. In my opinion I would rather be on the street with my mother than be in that house with him and continue living the way I did. It was getting harder and harder for me to keep coming up with excuses at school of why I have a new bruise every week. Luckily for me I was known to be unbalanced.

“What happened to your cheek?” my best friend Angie said.

“Funny story I got up to use the restroom and fell, hit my cheek on my damn bed post.”

“Ha that would happen to you.” Worriedly Angie scuffed.

The way she said that I knew she did not believe me. I would not believe myself either. Angie was my best friend and I was getting sick of lying to her. Then it happened, the day came that changed my life forever. Him and my mother were fighting again. Somehow the attention got put on me. He walked up slowly with those fire-burning eyes. Roughed up tan skin. As his hand got close to my face I noticed he chews his fingernails, and needed to wash his hand. I could still see the dirt on the tips of his fingers. Right when his hand struck my face instead of crying and holding it I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. He looked stunned. I looked stunned. My mother looked stunned. No one in the room could believe what I had just done. Did I really just hit the guy that has been hitting me for two years? He hit me again after that and I hit him back. We got in a fight that lasted a while. My nose had been broke the bone crushed, I felt it. I bloodied his lip and gave him a black eye. Finally he backed off me. He started flinging his legs in every part of my body. Then what happened next was something I never thought I would do. He had hit me the last time. Walked upstairs, packed my bags and walked out the door. If my mother was not going to leave this man I would. I walked out that door and didn’t look back. I ran and ran until I got to the bus station. Climbing on that bus I went as far away as I could. I ended up in a little Podunk town. There was this little restaurant I got job out. Met this cute guy, Ryan. He was sweet, and took care of me. I’m now leaving in Los Angeles with him with our three kids. I have not spoken to my mother or him in 12 years. Just as I never looked back, I never went back. No man will lay a hand on me again.





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