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Knock, knock.
It’s 11:30 at night, mom and dad must be back from their dinner party.
I open the door and a wave of cold hair hits me.
It’s Rob.
I squint trying to make out his face in the misty air, and dark night.
Blood.
I grab his arm and pull him in, leading him to the couch, and he sinks in it with ease. I walk into the kitchen and grab the first aid kit, my mind blank, the only thoughts having to do with Rob.
“Looking good,” He croaks, smirking as he sweeps me a look up and down. I’m in glasses, my hair piled at the top in a tangled bun, and I’m swearing my favorite pajamas with Spongebob on them.
“Shut up.” I whisper, as I sit down next to him to scan his injuries.
He has a bad gash at the top of his eyebrow, and his lip is busted open.
I gently touch my hand to his cut, and he winces.
“What did he do this time?” I ask, as I try and clean up his wounds.
“He came home drunk again. He wanted money. I said no, I wasn’t going to give him any. All he was going to do was blow it all off for more beer, and besides. I was saving up that money for your birthday.” He replies, scrunching up his face with pain, as I try to bandage up his cuts.
I stop and stare, looking at my bestfriend of seven years.
“You’re an idiot,” I whisper, but still lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Mm, that almost makes everything better,” He says with that stupid, adorable grin on his face. I push him away gently, laughing.
This wasn’t the first time Rob’s dad had hit him, I was used to him showing up atleast once a month with a bad cut, or bloody nose at my place in the middle of the night.
“Anna?” He says all of a sudden.
I look up at him, and even in the dark I can see the glint of his bright, blue eyes.
“Thank you,” He whispers as he rests his head upon my chest, his eyes getting droopy.
I can feel his chest falling up and down, and a soft snore fills my ears.
“You’re welcome. Please don’t do something like that ever again for me, I would hate to see you get hurt. I love you, afterall,” I whisper, although I’m aware he’s already asleep now, lost in dreamland.
Oh look here, I actually attempted to write today!
It's very bad, I'm aware, but I was in a writing mood. I guess I'll be taking up
writing again, now? Suggestions and comments would be wonderful!
It’s 11:30 at night, mom and dad must be back from their dinner party.
I open the door and a wave of cold hair hits me.
It’s Rob.
I squint trying to make out his face in the misty air, and dark night.
Blood.
I grab his arm and pull him in, leading him to the couch, and he sinks in it with ease. I walk into the kitchen and grab the first aid kit, my mind blank, the only thoughts having to do with Rob.
“Looking good,” He croaks, smirking as he sweeps me a look up and down. I’m in glasses, my hair piled at the top in a tangled bun, and I’m swearing my favorite pajamas with Spongebob on them.
“Shut up.” I whisper, as I sit down next to him to scan his injuries.
He has a bad gash at the top of his eyebrow, and his lip is busted open.
I gently touch my hand to his cut, and he winces.
“What did he do this time?” I ask, as I try and clean up his wounds.
“He came home drunk again. He wanted money. I said no, I wasn’t going to give him any. All he was going to do was blow it all off for more beer, and besides. I was saving up that money for your birthday.” He replies, scrunching up his face with pain, as I try to bandage up his cuts.
I stop and stare, looking at my bestfriend of seven years.
“You’re an idiot,” I whisper, but still lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Mm, that almost makes everything better,” He says with that stupid, adorable grin on his face. I push him away gently, laughing.
This wasn’t the first time Rob’s dad had hit him, I was used to him showing up atleast once a month with a bad cut, or bloody nose at my place in the middle of the night.
“Anna?” He says all of a sudden.
I look up at him, and even in the dark I can see the glint of his bright, blue eyes.
“Thank you,” He whispers as he rests his head upon my chest, his eyes getting droopy.
I can feel his chest falling up and down, and a soft snore fills my ears.
“You’re welcome. Please don’t do something like that ever again for me, I would hate to see you get hurt. I love you, afterall,” I whisper, although I’m aware he’s already asleep now, lost in dreamland.
Oh look here, I actually attempted to write today!
It's very bad, I'm aware, but I was in a writing mood. I guess I'll be taking up
writing again, now? Suggestions and comments would be wonderful!
