that.”
“No, never more like, but he didn't look happy about it.”
“I'm sure he will get over it and hell, if you tell a man no then it damn well means NO!” Frank was great, a real big brother. He knew what I had been through and felt the pain just like the rest of my family had, so I knew that he meant what he said. He leaned into me and said,
“Well I have something to cheer you up.”
“What's that?”
“Libby's in bed so you’re safe.” We both laughed and I was glad that I had confided in Frank, as it felt good and comforting offloading some mental weight.
I sat on my bed and pulled out the clip that held my hair up and ran my fingers through it, feeling the ache of having it up all day. It fell down my back in one big tube from spending the day twisted. I played with it, separating it into smaller pieces until it hung in waves around my waist. I examined my hand and a bluish bruise was starting to form at the knuckles. What was I thinking? I had just got rid of one only to replace it by another! I pulled down my gloves and ran my fingers over four little crescent moon shaped bloody cuts. Well at least they would fit right in with the others.
I barely ever looked at my arms, as when I did I would usually get upset at the memory of how they came to be. I touched the lighter scars at the top first and then moved down to the deeper ones near the wrist. These were larger, thicker and had never really made it back to skin colour. They were deep red as if a reminder of the blood that once poured out of them. I did the same on the other arm and placed the two side by side. What a mess. I counted eight slits on one and six on the other. I looked as though I had been mauled by a lion.
This was the reason I refused to obey Draven. I never wanted anyone to see my scars and I most definitely never wanted to explain how they got there. Well let’s face it, as soon as anyone saw them they would make up their own conclusion anyway so what was the point! They were a reminder for me every day for the rest of my life of what happened. I didn't want that for other people. After all I had come here to get away from all of that.
The next day I spent looking after Libby as she had come down with the same bug that RJ had and the way my week had gone I was just hoping I wouldn't get it next.
“How are you feeling Lib's?” I asked as I sat on the couch opposite her. She looked terrible with her skin all pale making her red hair look as though it was on fire.
“I'm ok I guess, I just can't seem to keep anything down though.”
“Yeah, RJ has the same thing but she rang earlier and said she was feeling better so it must only last for a few days. Do you want any soup or anything?” As soon as I mentioned food her face went a greenish colour and she bolted for the bathroom waving her hand at me.
“I'll take that as a no then.” I said when she was out of sight. I was just about to go into the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. Maybe Frank was back but it would be way too early yet. He had gone over to ‘The guys’ house, the guys being a bunch of mates he went to school with and they now all watched football together when they could. They had all been supposed to come over here to watch the game but seeing that Libby wasn't well Frank thought it best to watch it elsewhere. He hadn't wanted to leave at first but Libby and I both convinced him that she would be fine and as I was staying in anyway there was no point him missing it.
I opened the door to a man wearing a black suit and a black chauffeur’s hat. But there wasn't a car in sight. Maybe he had parked round the side but why would he do that? He held a long black envelope under his arm and asked,
“Miss Johnson?” He was a bit creepy