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Life is a Will, Not a Choice

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Ahh, to wake up in this house must be a curse. Everyday is a constant sore, a mix of emotions mostly filled with pain. I don't know what I did in my past life to deserve this, but damn, I'm ready to fuck them over.

I rise from my bed and head to the bathroom. As I enter and look in the mirror, I notice yet again that phaw hit too low. I turn and look at my back. Purple, red, and yellow glare back at me, obvious against my pale skin. I sigh and turn back around to study my face. Still good. As much as my back is colored my face is clear. Although drunk, he is somewhat aware of where he hits me. I sigh to myself and proceed with my morning routine.

I was in the shower when I started to think of an excuse to explain the bruises. Unfortunately the only bruse they would be able to see was one of the worst ones. The bruise was a light reddish purple handprint from where my phaw had grabbed me. It was at the bottom of my bicep closer to my elbow, and would show just under the sleeve of my shirt.

I rest my forehead against the shower wall and just stand under the spray for a while, thinking. To my friends, I was a “Clutz” so, maybe I could blame it on that ? Could I blame falling? No no it's a handprint… Well you mostly just see lines.. So a burn? No, it's too high up.. What if someone caught me? Yeah I was starting to fall and someone caught me but they squeezed my arm too hard. The position was off, since my phaw was dragging me, not catching me, but it was the best I could think of at the moment.

Turning off the water, I step out of the shower, confident in my response. I get dressed, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. Walking back into my room and looking at the clock, I notice it is only 5:20. To waste some more time before I have to head to school, I get my bag ready and contemplate going downstairs to eat a little. But phaw’s passed out on the couch and I'd rather not wake him. So I checked the clock again. 5:33. Damn it. I don't need to be on campus until 6:30. I’ll leave 30 minutes before to just make it since, to them, I'm not a "morning person." Me and mornings have been fine for a while, but they would find it weird if I actually got there on time, so I just wait until it's late to leave. By they, I mean my boyfriend and best friends. They are my everything and I would do anything for them and they for me, well the me they know. Part of doing anything for them is not burdening them with my fucked up life. So them not knowing isn't changing anytime soon.

If you were to ask them, “Who’s Arthit?” They could list everything about me from my full name to my sleeping position. Sadly, most of what they know is wrong. They would say I love sweets, when really, it's only Pink Milk. They would say I'm lazy and don't work, but I have a full time night job and an on-off day job. Even my boyfriend would get things wrong. I don't want to worry or burden them with my problems when they have plenty of their own. I've had this mask since I was 16. It's only fallen once, and I intend to never let it fall again.

My parents, well parent now, is an abusive alcoholic. He’s barely home, but when he is, it's hell. I was never a fan of sleep, but now my days and nights are mixing together, and with school and friends, it's getting harder and harder to get even an hour or two. I have to keep up with the bills on this house because he’s too busy getting drunk to worry about money, where or whom it comes from. I don't live here anymore and I'm old enough to be on my own but I keep coming back. I don't understand why, yet at the same time I do. He’s my phaw and as much of an asshole as he is, that won't change. Thankfully I only have to be here on the weekends, and as it is a Monday, I don’t have to come back until Friday. I know why he hates me though and why he acts the way he does. Honestly, I’d hate me too.

5:37. Seeing as I still had around 20 minutes until I have to leave, I look over my wounds again. Kongpob likes to be touchy, so I should wear a little padding. I put a tanktop under my t-shirt. I look myself over in the mirror again to check my look. Nothing is bulging and I have my usual complexion, so I guess I'm fine. I grab my bag and jacket off my bed and decide to leave a little early. I’m occasionally on time, so they shouldn’t be too surprised. I walk cautiously down the stairs and peek into the living room. He’s still asleep. I walk past quickly, grab my keys, and exit the house. I start on my way to university and can’t shake the feeling that soon something is going to go terribly wrong.