I closed my notebook and got off the bed and put the notebook inside the drawer of my nightstand. I turned around and reached for the sheet to make the bed but stopped suddenly when I saw the blood. I opened my mouth in shock as I stared at the dark place where I sat just moments ago writing.
That was from me.
I was bleeding.
It wasn’t the first time, and it didn’t happen all of the time. But there were times when Sebastian or his friend, or even Dad, caused it… me… to bleed a little. I swallowed hard and closed my eyes when the pain in my stomach seemed to kick up a notch or two. I felt hot for a brief second and then ice cold again. I opened my eyes and forced myself to move. I stripped the sheets off the bed and wadded them up on the floor. As soon as I was ready for karate class, I’d take care of the sheets.
I took a long, hot shower and spent a lot of time cleaning myself. I felt so much better after the shower, but I still hurt everywhere. I put on two pairs of underwear and even put a thin stack of tissues inside one of the pairs to make sure nothing would show through. Fucking sucked the damn outfit was white.
I went back to my room and pulled out a clean set of sheets from the drawer where I kept extras. I made the bed and then took the dirty, repulsive ones back to my bathroom and put them in the hamper. I carefully went downstairs and poured myself some cereal for breakfast. I ate alone and in silence, not allowing myself to think about anything from this morning. I needed to keep my head clear and focused for class.
I sat quietly on the couch and watched WWF with the volume on mute. I’d already had a dose of Sebastian this morning, and I was trying to keep quiet and from waking Dad and Raquel. I didn’t need Dad messing with me before class. I needed to settle down so my head would be in the right place for karate. Soon, Sebastian was going to get what he had coming to him. I knew the classes would get more involved and I’d learn useful stuff.
The longer I sat, the more the aches and pains settled in. But when I stood and tried to stretch, the pain in my ribs caused me to abruptly stop. I needed one of those pills so I could make it through my karate class. Dad and Raquel were still in bed, and Sebastian had left after he was done messing with me. I shut the TV off and went to my dad’s home office. The door was unlocked, and I quickly went to his desk, only to find that the drawer he kept the pills in was locked.
“Fucking son of a bitch,” I murmured. “Of course.”
I would just have to muscle through it with measly ibuprofen. I went to my bathroom and downed four of them. It would have to do.
I caught the bus to the Beverly Hills Shotokan Karate Studio, and the entire ride there I tried to push Sebastian out of my mind. I checked my hands over and my arm half way up to my elbows. Those would be the most exposed and visible during class, and in order to avoid being asked anything, or raise alarm, I needed to keep myself covered.
I noticed one of my knuckles that had been bleeding this morning had a bead of blood on it. I quickly brought my knuckle to my mouth and licked the blood off. I ran my tongue over the wound and then pressed my thumb over it. I hoped that would stop the bleeding by the time I arrived at the studio. As long as I kept the rest of me covered, I thought I’d be okay.
The bus dropped me off about a block away from the karate studio. Each step I took sent a sharp pain through my side. The usual ache that I had in my stomach vibrated and reminded me that it was there. That pain was nothing new, and there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t feel its presence. There was a time back in junior high when I really worried that I was sick or something was wrong with me. I worried it was a massive tumor or cancer or something, but I was too scared to tell anyone.
Not that Dad would do anything anyhow.
I figured that if it hadn’t killed me by now, it probably wasn’t anything serious. And I had to believe that it wasn’t anything bad because I sure as fuck wasn’t going to a doctor.
I pulled open the heavy glass door to the studio and smiled when I saw my instructor. I timed my pace so it gave the girl ahead of me a moment to move on.
“Good morning, Patrick,” he greeted me.
“Hey, good morning,” I replied.
My instructor was always friendly, and he greeted everyone at the start of each class. He would always look me in the eye and use my name when greeting me. I’d quickly look away, though, because being looked in the eye always made me uneasy. I was afraid adults could tell what had happened to me, as if it were spray painted on my forehead. But hearing my name being said without a trailing tone of hate was something I really liked. It might sound stupid, but it was something I looked forward to each Saturday. To have someone look at me and use my name when they said hello made me feel like I was wanted at the class. That was enough to keep me coming to the classes.
When I walked into our studio, I quickly glanced around and saw that his advanced class was already on the mats in an attention stance. Mostly there were black belts, but I saw a blue belt and a few purple belts in the mix.
“Good morning, Patrick,” one of the assistant instructors said when I walked through the open wooden doors of my classroom studio.
“Hello,” I said and then nodded.
“Set your bag down and find a spot in one of the first two rows,” he instructed.
I nodded and walked along the side that was lined with metal chairs for family or friends. I found an area that wasn’t occupied by other bags and set my gym bag down. As I toed off my Nikes, I checked my knuckle again to make sure it hadn’t started to bleed again. All clear for now. I found a spot in the second row and began doing some stretches that wouldn’t cause too much pain. I stretched my arms up and checked in the mirror to make sure the top of my gi hadn’t come up far enough to expose any of my skin.
Ow! Fuck!
I opened my mouth and tried to exhale slowly as the pain pierced my ribs on the right side. I fucking hated Sebastian. I worked on other stretches that I thought I wouldn’t feel in my ribs. The top of my gi kept popping open at the chest and neck area, so I kept adjusting my belt and the material of the gi after each stretch. Before I could stop myself, I mentally left the karate studio and went back to my room this morning.
My eyes shotopen the moment I felt the bed dip and a hand roughly yank my gym shorts down to my ankles.
Was it Sebastian or Dad?
My pulse pounded between my ears as I waited to figure out which fucking asshole it was this time. I was lying face down, and he pushed his knees between my legs, forcing me to make room for him. He rammed his knee against my groin, causing me to yelp.
“Ow!”
