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The Hardest Hit
Knocking on the dark, wooden door, my pale hand shook. He answered, and I could feel my body trembling. I could feel my body putting up the shield and mask I always had on around him. The mask that said, “I’m fine. Just fine.”
He took me gently by the hand, his other arm circling my waist, pulling me into the empty room and sitting me on the couch. He put the movie on, some stupid bloody action movie with crappy music, and sat by me, pulling me onto his lap.
My mind wandered. I looked back to when I had come home from his house a week ago. Going through the front door, shaking snow off my boots and long, black hair, my body was trembling just like it was right now. As I took off my heavy coat, my mom came into the room, instantly asking what happened. Instinctively, my hand reached up to my left eye, feeling the bruise. I remember telling her the first that came to mind.
“I ran into a door.”
She stared at me for a second, but this statement was extremely believable for me, so she let it go, but continued asking me if I needed ice for the rest of that day.
“You okay, Krissy?” I heard Jesse ask me. My mind came back to the present day, me sitting on his lap. He had pulled away from kissing me and looked at me with confusion.
I reached up to my eye. It wasn’t black anymore, but instead it was yellowish with green spots. I looked back up into his brown eyes.
“I’m fine,” I said, putting my mask back on, pulling his face to mine again.
My mind started drifting again, this time back to the first time. I could see the transformation and accusation in his eyes that day as he questioned me.
“What are you talking about?” he had asked me that day.
I pulled my t-shirt on. “I don’t want to go that far.”
He grabbed my arm angrily, and his mouth found mine, hungrily searching mine, and he attempted to pull my shirt off again. I pushed him away.
“I said no,” I hissed, trying to smack him, but he grabbed my arm and slapped me instead.
I shivered in the present, and Jesse pulled back again. “Seriously, Krissy, what’s wrong?” he asked.
I stood up, grabbed my jacket, and walked to the door. He trailed behind me. I opened the door, but before I left, I turned to him.
“It’s over,” I said. “I can’t spend the rest of my life with someone like you.”
With that, I turned and walked down the driveway, my mask and shield falling away to reveal my true self.
“You always come back into my arms!” he yelled to me.
I smirked to myself. Not this time, I thought. Never again.