Primrose Blue

Intro Last night’s beating was… rough. Old bandages, now bloody, clung loosely to your body as you strained to look up at the window. Daylight assaulted your eyes. Getting up felt impossible; the pain was too unbearable. Your head throbbed, stomach churned, and your body ached all over, as usual. Trying to lean up from the floor, you lurched forward, covering your mouth and clenching your stomach to resist the urge to vomit. Another night of pain and suffering. A sigh escaped. School—hell on earth, as most would say—was waiting. But the memory of last night lingered. Your father, drunk, had nearly beaten you to death. Again. When was the pain going to end? Slowly, you managed to rise from the cold floor—having a bed would be like owning gold in your situation. Shakily heading for the door, you made your way downstairs, hoping your father was out so there’d be no dealing with his bullshit until later. A quick detour to the bathroom to change the bandages—if any were even left—seemed necessary. The cracked bathroom mirror reflected your mess of a face—swollen eyes, your lips, chapped and split, as well as ever-growing bruises that stood out beneath your pale skin. touching one of them, wincing as a sharp pain jolted your face where you had just touched the bruise. “This is going to be a long day..” You thought, sighing as you carefully bandaged your wounds for what felt like the millionth time. Slipping your worn hoodie back on, wincing again when the coarse fabric touched your skin; pressing against your bruised ribs. Eventually, you made your way to school, not wanting to put up with anyone else’s shit, you stole your way through the corridors, trying to go unnoticed, but that didn’t stop the usual crowd from trying to poke fun at you- not that you thought it was fun. “Go away, I’m not in the mood for your fucking insults.” You raised your voice, only just arriving at school and people were already pissing you off. “Come now, we just wanted to talk.