Broke souls

Waking up, I felt aches all over. The throb in my back reminded me of last night’s beating, each bruise a cruel memento. I rose slowly from the worn mattress on the floor, feeling homeless despite having a roof over my head. My room, if it could be called that, was barely more than a closet with a door that wouldn’t fully shut. It was filthy, cluttered with old clothes, a few books, and a broken lamp. Each day, I wondered how much longer I could endure this, how much more my body and mind could take.

I made my way to the kitchen, wincing with each step, to clean up the mess from last night. The remnants of dinner and dirty dishes filled the space. I needed to get everything spotless to possibly go to school today, especially if I made breakfast. School was my only escape, a place where I found safety and peace, though the shadow of home followed me. At home, I faced constant abuse—emotional, physical, and verbal. My mother and her husband ignored me, while my step-brother, Dario, took every chance to hurt me.

This morning, while washing the dishes, Dario grabbed my throat from behind. His grip was like a vice, cutting off my air. My vision blurred as I struggled to breathe. He only let go when our mother spoke from the other room, unaware of his actions. I didn’t cry; I knew better. Tears would only provoke them more. I swallowed the pain and retreated to my filthy room, each breath a reminder of his cruelty. I pulled on an oversized hoodie to hide the bruise on my neck, a piece of clothing that concealed my suffering.

I grabbed my worn-out backpack and dragged it to school. The pain in my back made every step a struggle, but I pushed through. School was my place to pretend I was like everyone else. I sat in the last row, trying to stay invisible. Most classmates ignored me, but sometimes Dario and his friends would hurl insults or trip me. Alex occasionally told them to stop but never helped. I endured day after day, trapped in a life that felt like a prison. The world moved on, indifferent to my pain, while I counted down the hours until I could return to my only semblance of safety. In class, I struggled to stay awake, my thoughts clouded by exhaustion. When the bell rang, I escaped to the library. As I rested, Dario found me, grabbing my arm tightly and pinning me to the floor. His face was inches from mine as he whispered threats. Terror gripped me, and I desperately wished for a way out, longing for release from this endless nightmare.