Beautiful and Broken

"I'm fine," I state rather bluntly. "You don't look fine." "Then stop looking." He chuckles, and damn does he. His voice is dessert for the ears, his face is candy for the eyes. If I wasn't so pissed off I might've swooned over him. "How can I? When an angel is so close to me," He smirks. I fully turn myself towards him this time. "Were you there? That night?" I have to know before I think about him in the light any longer. "No." He doesn't even hesitate, "But my father was," "If I may ask, what in the hell prompted him to take my brother from a car accident?" He plasters on a tight-lipped grin, a small tick in his chin. "That's the thing, Hermosa, that night was everything but an accident." (Beautiful)"Ahh, shit." I groan, slowly moving from my lowered bed. I woke up with a nagging pain in my chest, and a tender side. When I finally move to my feet, I quietly shuffle to the bathroom across the hall. Making sure to close the doors without a sound. Looking in the mirror, I almost scare myself.Because I'm freaking uglyBut also because the black eye I had received a few nights before, had reached its full bruising. I wince a little trying to lift up my shirt. By the looks of my side, it was a small bruise. The dark colors would get more prominent as the days went on. I, unfortunately, know this routine all too well. With a sigh, I get started with my morning routine: Brushing my teeth, washing my face, covering the wounds and bruises. All with cold water because my mother would be up soon and 'knows when I've used it' as she says.It won't always be like thisI'll move out soonI just have to save enough moneyJust one more yearWalking back to my room, I get changed in my first work uniform. Packing the other in a small bag for my second job. Gently moving down the stairs, one foot at a time, making sure to miss the creeks in them. I hear the snoring,That fucking snoringToo many times have I wanted to just push a pillow over the opened mouthed sleeper. Counting the pros and cons of ending the main cause of my suffering, the cause of my late-night break downs. I have been far to close to doing so then I'd like to admitLooking over at her while I approach the front door, I can't help the scowl that grows on my face. Her hair is a mess, I've noticed it's starting to thin.

Pages: 392, Paperback, Ottavio Ferrante