[My Sweet Broken Flower]
Warm hands ran over the smooth features of the young girl’s face, thumbs caressing the skin, soft, gentle, loving. The hands belonged to a woman, late in her years, a smile upon her lips. “My beautiful baby girl.. Today something bad will happen, so I want you to stay up in your room.. Okay?” she questioned. Her voice quivered, beautiful cocoa brown eyes locked with those of the child’s, staring into the matching color. Leaning up she pressed her lips to the messy brown hair, leaning back to fix the white dress that was normally reserved for Sunday’s, being the only nice thing the poor family could afford for their child. “Now go to your room, lock the door, and no matter what you hear, don’t open it.. Not even for Daddy..” The small girl that stared up at her mother couldn’t be any older than five or six, barely understanding what the woman was talking about, holding the small worn and patched teddy bear against her chest. “Go!” her mother snapped, the girl jumping before turning and running to her room, bare feet slapping against the wooden floors. When inside she slammed the door, reaching to the flat knob under the door’s, clicking it to the side to lock it.
She stepped back to her bed that sat against the wall in front of the doorway, leaning against the wood that held different pictures she had colored, all taped up messily, some falling at her movement. Pulling her knees to her chest she waited, keeping her grip on the bear tight, the house silent. Suddenly the sound of an opening door echoed through the silent halls, heavy boots moving on the ground, the slamming of the door making the girl jump. A voice rang through the halls, a man’s, drunken and booming, “Honey?! I’m home!” She could hear the soft clicking of her mother’s heels, followed by her muffled voice, but she was still able to make out a few. “………b*****d……. Drunk again………… Out……… Tired……..” They were fighting, she knew this by now, it happened almost every day. But this was the first time she had heard her mother start up the fight, normally it would be the drunkard that came home late and beat the woman to end the fight.
The sound of a snapping of skin on skin made her jump, holding a hand to her lips, the sounds of her mother’s tearful screams coming in clear. “You piece of s**t! Get out of my house! Get away from me!” She began to hear glass break, the thudding of a body against the wall, the sounds of flesh breaking against flesh made her pull her hands to her ears, barely muffling the sounds. Finally, everything was silent, no more cries, screams, shouts, or anything for that matter. Slowly she scooted herself off the bed, leaving the small stuffed animal there, pulling the dress back down her legs while she stepped to the door carefully. Reluctantly she reached up, ready to unlock it and take a peek before the knob began to rattle. Jumping back with a small shout of surprise she hurried back to the bed, scrambling onto it before grabbing the bear and pressing against the wall as she had before. A large body slammed itself to her door, hearing the wood crack, hinges snapping. After two more hit’s the door finally gave way, falling to the ground hard, the large figure of her father in the doorway. His hands were scuffed and bloodied, a few new scratches on his face, probably from where her mother grabbed to make him stop.
Slowly he stepped towards the bed, pushing a hand under his nose, clearing the blood from his upper lip. “C’mon sweetie, daddy just wants to talk,” he stated, moving closer to her. A hand grabbed her slim wrist tightly, fingers digging into the flesh while he tugged her off the bed and to the floor. She began to struggle against him when he kneeled down, kicking and pushing, screaming out then for her mother. She tried crawling away, but large hands grabbed her legs and dragged her back, moving up to push the dress up, licking his lips vulgarly. A gunshot rang in the air, blood splattering over the girl’s face, her body frozen in place out of fear. She watched as the large man’s body slumped over, hitting the ground, she scrambling up to her feet, blood staining her feet. Turning she looked to the older woman, face broken and bloody, leaning against the wall for support, the smoking gun held loosely from her finger. The sounds of police sirens rang through the air when she dropped the gun, falling to her knees and touching the small girl’s shoulders. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” she questioned, the girl shaking her head quickly, dark hair bouncing. “Good.. They’re going to take me away now.. But I want you to be a good girl, okay?” she questioned. The girl shook her head again and the woman touched her face, holding her still before kissing her head. “I love you Kerri… kerri… kerri….”
“Kerri… Kerri… Kerri? Kerri!”
The once beautiful voice of the woman faded to a lower tone, the sudden shout of her name making her jump up in her seat, gasping for air. She found that she was in the large collage classroom, her sudden waking making the students snicker and laugh, turning her gaze to the teacher that stood beside her. “Did you have a good nap, Kerri?” he questioned, the girl stammered over her words, “I’m sorry, I had a late night last night and-” He cut her off, snapping at her in a sharp tone, “I don’t care if you were on the corner last night turning tricks for singles, you will NOT sleep in my classroom!” She flinched back and nodded, pulling the long sleeves down over her arms, nodding.
“Yes sir..”
The lecture went on then, she making sure to keep awake and alert, scribbling down the notes and continuously pulling the shirt’s sleeves down and tightening the scarf around her neck. The bell rang and the students piled out of the room, the girl forced to stop by her teacher calling her name. While the students gathered out she hesitated, stepping down to the man at the front, rubbing her arm. “Yes sir?” she questioned, he sighing while he looked up from his desk, pulling the glasses from his face to stare at her. “You’ve been sleeping more and more in my class, Miss Danson. Your grade is failing and every time I see you, you have a new bruise on your face. I know it’s none of my business, but is this boyfriend of yours beating you?” She gave a faint laugh, shaking her head some, “You’re going crazy, sir. I’m fine. I’ll try and catch up on all the work by the morning..”
With that she was out of the classroom, hurrying down the halls to get out of the public place and return to her apartment. She lived only a few blocks away from the small buildings that made up the community college, and she ran the whole way, as if she was running late. She ran up the stairs before coming to her door, the number ‘3’ barely hanging on and the ‘B’ that was beside it had already fallen, nothing left but a black smudge. Unlocking the door she stepped inside, closing it behind her and looking around carefully. Quietly she moved into the apartment, peeking around corners, as if making sure no one was home.
“Where the ******** were you?”
She jumped at the stern words, looking over to the man sitting at the table at the end of the kitchen, a bottle of Jack in his hand, dark green eyes staring at her from behind dark bangs. She stepped to the table, setting her books down carefully, speaking quietly. “I had my c-classes… I told you that..” she murmured, keeping a good distance from him. “I thought I told you to give that s**t up? You’re worthless. You can’t do anything and you shouldn’t be wasting my money on it..” he growled. She stepped back and he was immediately on his feet, grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the wall, a framed picture falling to the ground, glass shattering. “You don’t walk away from me,” he snapped, digging his fingers into her chin, making her whimper in pain. Throwing her to the ground she coughed, grabbing her neck and rubbing the sore skin. Breath caught in her chest when his boot met with her stomach, falling to the ground and curling, coughing while she gripped the throbbing pain in her gut. “Get up..” he demanded, she opening her dark eyes before shifting to her knees, quivering while she held her stomach. His hand made contact with her face, slamming her to the wall before hitting the ground. She sobbed quietly, it was what he wanted, to see her cry and bleed for him, so she would do so, all to make it stop, all to make him happy. “Get cleaned up and go to work..” he spat, stepping around her and to the bedroom.
Why did she take it?
Because she loved him…
It was about an hour later before she made it to the flower shop, make-up over the new black eye, trying her best to cover any new bruise with the soft gray scarf that fell over the brown sweater, dark pants ripped at the knees and scuffed down the legs, brown chucks, worn from age, adorning her feet. Stepping behind the counter she grabbed an apron, pulling it over her body before clocking in, letting the other girl go home. It was just before closing, one last person was looking over the already prepared bouquets, and finding that she could go home sooner, she walked over with a faint smile.
“Can I help you?”
