Glass Walls

Chapter 9

I've waited almost two weeks and not a single call. How disappointing. I'm absolutely devastated when I start taking them down. They're not staying up. Obviously they aren't doing anything. When I go to check the side of a building where I had put one, I notice something.
I'm pissed when I see the giant red X over her face. But what pisses me off more is the disgusting comment written at the bottom.

I scream and rip the flyer off the wall. "Stupid mother fucker! It's bullshit!"
The corners of the paper are still attached but I don't bother picking them off.

I had twenty posters to begin with and I collected exactly that many. I put them all in a plastic Walmart bag. There's a dumpster sitting in an alley so I sit in front of it and chuck the balled up papers in it one by one.
A waste of time, that's what this was!I'm absolutely stupid for thinking I could find her! She could be anywhere. She could be dead!

I can feel tears spill from my eyes.
She's gone, my mom is gone and I'll never get her back.
I let dad down and I let myself down. I'm such an idiot!
I try to hold it back but the tears keep coming. When I stand up I turn around to face the side of a building. I scream and punch the wall over and over and over and over again.

Blood spills over my hand after punching the wall. The brick scrapes my knuckles but I keep going until I completely break down crying.
    ***
Tears stain my face but I don't care. I don't even care if dad sees. My bruised and battered hand is hidden in my jacket sleeve.
"Hey kiddo." dad says.
I don't even look his direction. I walk up the stairs at a leisurely pace.
"Olivia. Hello?"
My mouth stays shut. I hear him get off the couch. He's standing at the bottom of the stairs.
"Olivia."
I just keep walking.
"Olivia. Hey!"
Dad grabs my shoulder and turns me around. He sees the hurt in my eyes. I want him to.
"What's wrong? Where have you been?"
Should I answer? What do I even say? The only thing I can focus on is my failure.

"The blood. I have to wash it off." I weakly try to turn back around but his grip doesn't loosen.

"Blood? What blood? Olivia what happened?" His voice is urgent but it doesn't bother me a bit. I roll my sleeve up and hold out my hand. It's purple and blue and very swollen. Semi-dry blood covers my hand in trails of deep crimson. He takes my hand gently and examines it. It's still bleeding a little.

"What did you do?"
I can't answer that question. Never ever ever. I just look at him and a tear slips down my cheek. He doesn't make me answer. Instead, he leads me to the bathroom and cleans my hand up.

As I'm sitting on the counter I don't wince when the peroxide stings my cuts.
"I don't know what happened and I won't make you tell me right now."

Key phrase: right now.

He continues. "You have to take care of yourself Liv. No more of whatever this is."
Guilt, shame, and fear swirl into one big cloud of emotion. I feel bad for sneaking around, but I can't have him know. He'll flip out on me again.
For now I'm safe.
He wets a washcloth in the sink and dabs at my wounds. After he washes away the blood and dirt I can see how badly I scratched my hand up. My knuckles have gashes surrounded by cuts and scrapes that gleam pink and raw.
I guess he sees me looking at the damage.
"You gotta try to move it. If you keep your hand in the same position it'll stiffen up. That might not even help your case. Looks like you might have broken some fingers there."
My fingers move stiff and awkwardly from pain. The spots where I split my skin open feels uncomfortable so I stop moving.

"We'll wrap it up and ice it. If it doesn't get better we'll assume you broke em'."
I nod and let him help me.
After my hand is mended the best it can be, I'm tired.