You Broke Me

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“I couldn’t tell you, why she felt that way, but she felt it everyday”. Nobody’s Home by Avril Lavigne was on my I-pod. I could relate to this a lot, but no one knew it. Nicolette S., perfect life, perfect everything and it was all a fairytale. As usual, I now have to put my perfect face on to go to school. Plaster it on and out the door. Here we go world.

Perfect couple. Perfect boyfriend. Everyone looked up to us, but they didn’t have a clue. I managed to avoid you in the morning, rare. English first period, the day started out normal. Eric, one of my good friends was making me laugh, genuinely for once. It was nice. He walked me to my next class, but I had to go to the bathroom. I walked down the hallway, that’s when I saw you. You were so angry and I couldn’t believe it. Your eyes, you were shaking. I was scared, but I had no choice but to go to you, knowing what you would do. It happened fast. You took me by my hair, slammed me into the glass doors-clear on each side. I saw blood and so did you. You wiped it fast, on the back of your hand to your black Jan sport book bag, without another glance. I’m still waiting for my explanation, but you’re not done with me. You drag me to the lockers; theirs no one around, you slam me into them. My arm is killing me. You say, “So you’re cheating on me really Nikki?” I swear to you no. I already know what you want to hear. I make up some bull that I would never do that to you or us. That we worked to hard for us, anything so you can let me go or at least loosen your grip. This wasn’t the first time you had blown up at me in school, but it was the worse. You believe me and I’m trying not to shake. How could I ever do that to you if I’m so scared? You watch me leave and I can’t even go to the bathroom. I clean myself off as best as I can, rubbing my eyes. My sweatshirt is dark and hides the bloodstains. The glass doors have blood on them, but no one will be able to tell. I don’t cry anymore, I’m numb to this. Tears bring questions that I knew I couldn’t answer. My hair is over my face as I slide into geometry. My lip is definitely busted. It says something I know I cannot if asked. Vibrate a text from you; with trembling fingers I touch the screen. Of course you’re sorry, and again I forgive you like I deserve this. My arm hurts- my body hurts- I feel sick. Your behavior continues and I’m putting up with it. “Nikki…” Bridgette gets close to me, giving me this puzzled expression. She’s going to ask me… “Are you going to lunch because you’re going the wrong way?” I cringe, “Yeah, I’m coming.” What choice did I have? I was a character in this life acting to your story.

Down to lunch I go to play the good girlfriend role you dare me to mess up. I’m twirling my hair wishing I were anywhere but here. Taking notice of your warning glances, I sit up and try to act normal. I hated my life. To think you weren’t always like this. We were friends who fell “in love” so what the hell was this? This wasn’t love. I should’ve known from the first time you grabbed me, should’ve gotten out when you hit me, and should’ve told when you punched me. I guess it was that day I had enough. I couldn’t do it anymore. I think I told you I was going to the bathroom and I ran to the counselor’s office. I told her everything.

You’re gone now with all our memories. My bruises have healed so there’s no proof. I guess theirs rumors going around, but I don’t care. I don’t listen. My parents were so pissed at you. They told me that wasn’t love and I told them I knew, but I was just scared. I wonder if you’re angry, if you’re punching your walls again because you can’t hit me, breaking things like you tried to break me. I finally have admitted it to myself.

It is months later and I refuse to believe I will now have a piece of you. Of course this happens just when I was finally starting to not think of you every single day and every hour. Say it ain’t so as I smoke my day away. I crave spring rolls, what we used to eat together… as if my life couldn’t get anymore messed up. My life is about to come crashing down all over again. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That’s what I am. The stupid, pretty girl who got beat up by her boyfriend, who’s… No, I’m not going to say it.

I’m officially 5 months pregnant with your child. I’m 16 and pregnant. Way to leave your mark. This happened when things were going good. I’m still glad you’re gone though. She doesn’t have to go through it. I brought myself to church today. Me, with my big belly, white maternity dress (the only one I own), and shoes that barely fit. I knew it was a bit hypocritical and to prove my point everyone was staring at me. I wasn’t sure if God and I were okay since you and everything. I’m not sure where he was while you were hitting me, but I need someone there for her and me. Since, you obviously can’t be. I’m sitting with my legs open, my hands on my belly, fingers interlaced. I was just thinking about everything I had been through in the past year, you just clouding it all over. My parents now have a permanent worried look on their face and now that they have something of you to remind them everyday, I cringe for them. It hurts and it doesn’t seem real. I’m much stronger then I was then. I have to be, I have no friends. I don’t think they exactly know how to deal with me. She’s kicking me, she always seems to know when you and her are in my thoughts. She’s good at that, smart like me. I just tuned into the service, they say God is our father. I forgot that. Good thing to because she needs a good example, something you can never give her. Even though we broke a big rule, he forgives… us? I mean I can see me, but you? I guess. I don’t hate you or myself anymore. I was blaming myself, but I know now it’s not my fault. It was yours. You’re the one with the problem not me. Even after all these months I was still thinking that. It’s over now. I feel calm and safe in this church. I don’t know when’s the last time I felt like this is. You know I think everything’s gonna be okay without you and with God. The past I went through was really supposed to make me stronger and just maybe it’ll help her out. Just maybe. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but we’re gonna make it.





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