SLEEPSONG (BoyxBoy)✔️

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Every part of me hurt.

My neck, my face, my chest, my back, my arm, and my head. I was an aching, bruised, battered mess when I finally opened my eyes and found myself staring at the ceiling of my room. I winced as the memories from the previous afternoon swept through my brain and swallowed.

My mouth was dry, too dry, which was a sign that I was beginning to get thirsty again.

I had maybe a pint of blood left in the bottle I'd brought back with me, though, which would sate me for at least another full day if I was lucky. It took me a few minutes to get up like I normally did since my neck kept screeching in physical protest against any form of movement.

"Ow," I wheezed, clutching at it once I was sitting upright. "Fuck... ow."

My eyes stung and watered from the intensity of it, but I still dragged my sorry self out of bed and made my way into the bathroom, checking my phone for updates as I flicked on the lights. To my disappointment, none of the digital books on my reading apps had been updated.

I sighed, setting my phone down, and was just about to drag my shirt off when I saw my face.

Every part of me went still and I lowered my arms, eyes wide.

The left side of my face had been darkened with a nasty blue-violet bruise that completely circled my eye and stretched across my nose. My neck was equally dark, bruised to high hell all the way around with marks that were very angry-looking and completely swollen.

The shocking colors made my abnormally pale skin look marred.

I looked at my wrist to see similar bruises residing there.

I had a sudden flashback of my childhood days, back when my skin had always been covered in bruises, the sound of a long-gone woman screaming distant words that always hurt more than the wounds she'd inflicted on my body. I shook my head, but instantly regretted it since a bolt of agony that almost put me on the ground rocketed through my neck and spine.

I wheezed, clutching my throat, and tried to control my breathing so I wouldn't faint - praying that I wouldn't lose consciousness and fall over. The pain ebbed after a few long, dizzying moments and when it did I was hesitant to even try moving at all, but I eventually managed to gather enough courage to very, very carefully peel my shirt off and pull it over my head.

Getting through my normal daily processes took me far longer than usual and looking into the mirror while I was blow drying my hair was hard to stomach. I'd already looked tired and gaunt every morning, and now that my face was thrashed I looked like a victim of untold horror.

My own eyes reminded me of one of those abused dogs in an SPCA commercial.

Trapped. Helpless. Scared. Looking out at the world as if asking a single question.

'Why do you hurt me?'

I was glad when my hair was dry, since it meant I didn't have to look at myself anymore. I walked into my room and sat down on my bed, pulling my hair over my shoulder to take a few final minutes to brush it out. Then I pulled on a pair of jeans shorts and a thin, black, cotton off-the shoulder long-sleeved shirt since I couldn't really tolerate the idea of wearing anything collared.

I felt like one of my usual every day knitted sweaters would chafe my neck too much, and another turtleneck was very much out of the question. Even if it was a little too feminine for me, it wasn't like I was going anywhere and it was comfortable, draping over me in a nice way.