Jessica Glenn
Period: 06
Narrative Essay
The Broken Shall Get the Last Laugh

She sat on the ground, shuddering against the cold and squirming as she felt her bones ache, pressed against the concrete. She didn’t know which felt worse, the harsh December cold whipping against her already raw and beaten face, or her soul, battered and repressed to the point that it-and the girl herself-no longer wanted to exist. She wondered why she was here, how she had gotten to be so unhappy but she knew exactly why. And it was all her fault. Red. Everything she saw was red. The shirt he wore the day they met, on a day when he was the warmest thing on the rainy Sunday streets. The valentines bear he gave her a month later. Her skin when he started hitting her. Her wrist after long strenuous arguments. The nail polish he bought to say sorry. The knees pressed against the floor after hours of begging to not walk out the door. “No” he yelled at her, losing control of his temper like she had lost herself months ago. He told her she couldn’t leave. She had to be thrown out. Of course was all she thought. He has to have power. Things began to change for the worse. Black was her solace. Black was what she saw when she passed out from the pain. Black was the color of the ice pack she snuck in the middle of the night when he was asleep. Blue. The last days were blue. His shoe laces when he kicked her to the ground. The dress she wore when they went to a Halloween party, and were voted best couple. The bruises on her skin when he came home, drunk and angry. She had finally had enough. Face down into the shag carpet, reeking of pure disgust and hatred, she coughed and fixed her hair. Standing up, her veins pumped with the acidic, venomous anger that had been building up for two years. She grabbed the red belt, and walked upstairs to the room where he had fallen asleep earlier. She drew back her arm and brought it down savagely on his face, a loud crack booming throughout the house. He was jolted awake and within an instant had her arms behind her back and equal acid in his voice. “You worthless piece of trash.” He growled. “You’ll never learn. You’re useless freaking garbage.” Seizing her by the waist and fiercely tossing her over his shoulder, he stomped down the stairs, swinging the door wide open and allowing the bitter, icy wind inside. She whimpered, hearing the door slam against the wall, most likely making a hole. He tossed her onto the ice coated sidewalk, misjudging and hitting the large stone steps to his door. He didn’t flinch as she hit the top step and tumbled down the rest. “That’s what you deserve. Go throw yourself away. That’s what you’ve already done with your life, anyways.” He had said as he ripped the door from the wall and slammed it shut. She knew why. Why she was alone in the cold ten sizes smaller than she was two years ago. Why she could use her ribs as a washboard, and her hipbones as shelves. But she also knew something else. Something she had known all along. She had blood pumping, organs working, cells whose only purpose was to keep her alive. And it was about damn time she got with the program. She heaved herself off the ground, brushed the snow off her legs, and walked off, a skeletal hero to her nearly dead body. Her souls, her essence, her vital will live to be vibrant and stronger than ever. Tired of being pushed down and ready to stand up fighting, she got herself up and after that she lived. After that she conquered. Years later he faced the penitentiary. Standing before a judge, of course he pleads not guilty to a crime he so dearly committed. Of course he was sentenced without bail. Months and months of anger she should thank him. He gave me her her best friend. Blackness. Jury duty felt like the ultimate high seeing him stutter on the right things to say at the right moment to not get caught up. Passing out was the only relief from the pain that was brought. Unconsciousness was the only rest for her bruised spirit. He stuttered, choking on tears he didn’t know he had. “I-I’m so sorry” She gave a short bark of a laugh before looking into his eyes. “Lies”
Let’s hope darkness suits you well.