Just Another Day
She is crying but she says she’ s okay. The bruises on her arm are darker than the last time. She looks around the shattered room with a depressed look. He may have left, but she still feels his intimidating presence there. The glass from the once gorgeous mirror on the wall is shattered and scattered all over the floor she is sitting on. She digs her nails into the carpet, trying to make her tears stop from coming. Her calves are crossed back against her thighs so that she is practically sitting on her them, making her bruised body look like that of an old doll wanting to be played with. Her dark, silky hair comes down to her shoulder, filling up with a mix of blood, sweat, and tears. Her arms which were tightening from the grip of the carpet finally began to loosen. As her arms became more flimsy, the tears came back again. She quickly looked down to the dark green carpet, the tears slowly being soaked up by the carpet. She finally began getting up slowly, her aches and pains feeling more and more real for every muscle she moved. She moved down to carpet slowly to feel less pain. But for every step she took she heard the glass break and move beneath her torn-up shoes. Once she finally reached the couch, she slowly laid down while still leaving both her feet on the floor. She faced the small, light-colored coffee table in front of her in a sideways position since her head was now on the old cushion of the couch. She starred at the top of the very first coffee table she had ever bought with her own money and saw the ring in the center, placed ever so nicely. She reached to grab it with her right arm, her arm shaking inch by inch as she reached for it. As soon as she grabbed it she brought it close to her teary eyes and saw it was the ring she had gotten him for his birthday only a month ago. She stared at it for almost a minute; as if it were the first time she had ever seen it. She noticed the outside was red with her blood and became a bit nervous. With a mix of shock and unsureness, she let the ring drop to the glass-filled ground, a bit of her blood still on her index fingers and thumbs. Her eyes began to close in exhaustion, but she knew she could not sleep. Not now. She got up from the couch, a bit quicker than before, and began to pick up every piece of glass she came across. She had to pick up the mess before anyone else saw. After two hours of glass picking and throwing out the once gorgeous mirror which was useless now, she went to their