Pain, excruciating amounts of pain, that was the first thing I felt as I awoke. My muscles screaming in agony along with the irritating cawing of that damn crow outside my window once again ripped away any semblance of sleep I still possessed. I bit my lips hard as I tried to withhold the scream that sat at the tip of my tongue, only releasing a tepid whimper instead. As I lay frozen in bed, too scared to make any sudden movements for fear it would make the pain resurface, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves before trying to figure out what was causing the shooting pain I felt. Something that took only a few seconds to locate.
I looked down on the remains of what were once my hands but were now an amalgamation of bruises, cuts and scrapes. A cacophony of red, blue and purple hues littered my skin. I stared at them in confusion, gingerly moving them one digit at a time, as if making sure they were really mine before memories of last night rushed back, clearing up my remaining confusion.
I let out a depressed and frustrated sigh. Depressed at the realisation that everything that happened yesterday was real and not just a horrific nightmare. Frustrated because of the pain and discomfort I knew I was going to be forced to suffer due to my outburst yesterday. As I sat there, staring blankly at my mutilated hands, I thought about simply going back to sleep. Hoping that doing so would let me forget about all the sorrow and pain I felt. However, though tempting, I threw the idea away. Knowing the reprieve sleep would give me would only be temporary.
Realising I needed to get ready, and get away from that annoying crow that still hadn't shut up, I slowly stood up. Doing my best to use my hands as little as possible, I wobbled towards the shower to complete my morning routine. As I looked into the stained mirror above the sink and looked at my ghastly reflection, I tried to see if there were any obvious signs of the punch I had taken yesterday, remembering how bruised and sore my face had felt before. Fortunately, while it seemed that a single night's sleep was not enough for the bruising to have fully calmed down, it was enough for only a small lump to be located on the left-hand side of my jaw. Something which didn't appear too noticeable if one wasn't looking.
After I had showered, only wincing in pain three times throughout, and had gotten changed, I headed towards the kitchen. However, unlike the day before, as I walked forward and out of my room, I could hear the sound of quiet murmurings and cupboards banging together. With a look of trepidation I walked into the kitchen, spotting my Dad dashing around the kitchen at a frantic pace, a focused glint in his eyes as he opened and closed every cabinet he could find. So focused it seems that he hadn't even realised I had joined him in the kitchen. Hell, I doubt he would have even realised if an earthquake had taken place at that moment.
Eventually, after what must have been at least a minute, Dad finally looked up, head peeking over the current cabinet door he had opened. As our eyes met I felt mine prickle with tears. The last time I saw him would have only been a couple of days ago, yet to me, it felt so long ago. Immediately I wanted to tell him everything that had happened, to just burst into tears as if I was a child while he told me everything would be alright, even if it wouldn't. As If we were a normal loving family. However, before I could say a single word, my Dad spoke first.
"There you are! Where were you last night? I told you before, you aren't supposed to stay out so late, it's dangerous, especially around here." He said, going back to the cabinets, searching for whatever it was he was looking for.
Before I could have even responded with some half-baked lie Dad spoke again in a disgruntled tone "Did you even get the shopping done like I asked you to yesterday? There's not even a damn crumb left in these cabinets."
"N- no, that's my bad. I, um, forgot. Sorry." I said dumbly, not expecting the sudden change in topic.
"Dammit Adam, I gave you one simple task" He muttered angrily, closing the cabinet door with a little too much force, making it creak and groan under the stress.
"Make sure to get it done today Adam. You need to start acting like an adult. You should be able to handle these easy tasks by now without me having to constantly remind you." Throughout his tirade not once did he glance towards me.
Seeing his dismissive attitude a sense of indignation started to build within me. He didn't even try to know why I didn't get the shopping, something that had happened only a handful of times in the past couple of years since it became my job. For all he knew I could have been mugged or attacked. The fact that he seemed to care more about the groceries than my well-being swiftly turned the indignation I felt into a rising anger.
Not trusting my voice to not give away my anger, I stiffly nodded my head while giving a low hum in agreement. Not that it mattered as my Dad clearly wasn't paying attention. Instead heading back towards the living room now knowing there wasn't any food available, grabbing his wallet and keys off the dark brown coffee table in front of the TV.
"Alright well, I'm off to work. Make sure to get that shopping done today." And with that, before I was even able to respond, he was already out the door without even a backward glance. The only sounds now able to be heard were that of the TV and his truck as it slowly drove away, bellowing and rattling as it went. When the sounds from the truck could no longer be heard, I meandered over to the sofa in a daze before promptly collapsing upon it.
I stared blankly at the TV, not even paying attention to what was on as a hollowed laugh escaped my throat. Small at first before slowing building in strength, turning into a booming sound no doubt able to be heard outside after a few moments. With tears in my eyes, I thought about the irony of the situation. How I was so worried about what I would tell my dad just for him to not give a single shit where I was or what had happened, caring more about the bloody food. I must have still been an emotional mess from the day before as soon the tears in my eyes began streaking down my face, my laughter slowly devolving into a cry and the smile on my face switching to a frown.
In truth I knew this wasn't a fair assessment, ever since Mom passed away when I was young Dad had done his very best to support the both of us, working the excruciatingly long hours he worked now. Sacrificing his aspirations and free time so he could provide both of us with food and shelter. Yet with the stress of everything that had happened, none of that mattered to me, all I could feel was gut-wrenching sadness. Sadness over how unfair life truly was.
It was at that moment the phone in my pocket gave a muted buzz, informing me of a message. Like last time, already knowing who it was from, I checked the message Sam sent, a message asking whether I would be at school today. I began to type my reply saying I wouldn't. Yet right before I hit send I thought about what I would do instead. I looked around the barren living room, at the minuscule TV directly in front that seemed to be over a decade old and the few pieces of battered furniture scattered around such as the coffee table and dull green sofa I sat upon. Immediately I realised that the last thing I wanted was to be by myself In that barren, lifeless room alone with my thoughts. And so I quickly deleted the message before replying that I would be at school and that I would see him there.
Having come to a decision, I turned off the TV and went to grab my bag from where I abandoned it the night before, preparing to leave for school. I looked at my phone and saw I still had over an hour until school started, explaining why I saw my dad that morning, with him usually leaving while I was still asleep. Still, I opened the front door and headed to school, not wanting to stay home for even a moment longer.
The walk to school was shocking in its regularity. The houses and streets were just as run down, the weather just as nippy and the people around looking at me with the same looks of suspicion and derision I was used to. It was surreal how truly insignificant my life truly was and how little of an effect my passing would have. Regardless, the world would continue as normal with the majority of people not even noticing the difference. The only two people who would even care would be my Dad and Sam. For everyone else, it would simply be a shocking and slightly sombre story. A story that would be forgotten by week's end.
I awoke from my thoughts as I stepped through the school gates and entered the school grounds. I looked around, seeing no more than ten people sparsely spread around in small groups of two or three. Seeing no sign of Sam and feeling the slight chill in the air I decided to head inside like I did the day before. The inside of the school was even more barren, with not a single student in sight and the halls all but silent. The only sound that could be heard was the squeaking of my trainers against the ceramic floor.
With no direction in mind, wanting only to kill some time before Sam arrived and class started, I meandered my way forward at a relaxed pace, for once actually paying attention to the many papers and posters that littered the walls. Slowly, as the minutes passed, the once-empty halls around me grew more and more crowded as people slowly began to trickle in like water from a dripping tap.
Abruptly, once the halls were teeming with teenagers and the hall became so cramped and congested the air seemed to thin out, I became all too aware of the attention I was attracting. Even more so than usual. Turns out that passing out in the middle of a fight and being rushed to the hospital was an interesting topic of discussion, with many of the students whispering and joking about what happened, uncaring that I could easily hear them from where I was standing. I overheard one obnoxious prick mention to his mates how I did it on purpose to try and get out of the fight. A comment that made me immediately want to start a fight with him until I accidentally clenched my fists and was swiftly reminded of the damage I had sustained. As I did my best to reign in my anger, knowing nothing good could come of it, I heard a quiet, feminine voice speak from behind me.