I Bruise Easily

Part 1:

My skin is like a map of where my heart has been
And I can’t hide the marks
But it’s not a negative thing
So I let down my guard, drop my defences
Down by my clothes
I’m learning to fall with no safety net
To cushion the blow

I sighed and rolled over, staring at the muscular toned body sleeping beside me. Almost every girl that looked at him fell in love with him – he had the face of an angel, but looks can be deceiving. I heaved a heavy sigh, rolled onto my back and allowed my right hand to trace over the bruises on my left arm. Although they had been dealt over twelve hours ago, they were still throbbing with pain. I eased myself up out of bed and into the bathroom, where I applied some cream onto them.

Nobody knew about the abuse that went on behind the closed doors of our flat. Not even my best mate , who I had known since the day I was born – he was a year older than me. My mum and his were neighbours, so naturally we got along pretty well as well. People always said that we were so right for each other, but we ignored them, unable to see each other as more than just friends. Well, I could see us as more than just friends – I really wanted us to be more than friends, but I was afraid that would just laugh at me and it would ruin our friendship. I reckon he had started to catch onto the abuse that was happening; whenever I made up excuses about why I had my bruises, he’d just raise his eyebrows like he didn’t believe me. He never said a word though.

I allowed a few tears to fall down my cheeks before wiping my tears and creeping into the kitchen. I took out a little tub from under the sink and slipped a pill into my mouth. I didn’t dare think about what Ken would think if he knew that I was on the morning after pill. We were supposed to be trying for a baby, even though I was only nineteen and he was twenty and we had only been going out for a year. I wasn’t sure I wanted a baby now, but every time I talked to him about it, he would just hit me, so I didn’t defy him. I once loved him, but up to four months ago when we moved into our own flat, he showed me his true colours. I couldn’t stand this. But whenever I tried to leave him, he would beg me to stay and tell me that he loved me and he needed me. And I, being the sort of person who can’t say no, stayed. I pressed a bag of peas to the side of my face to reduce the swelling, before creeping back into the bedroom. Quietly, I pulled some clothes on over my head and applied some make–up over the bruise on the side of my face. You couldn’t see it anymore. I wore a pair of dark denim jeans that were ripped at the knee, and a casual black zip–up top. I pulled a brush through my tangled, messy red hair, taming it before pulling it into a loose pony–tail. I glanced at my watch. Eight o’clock on Saturday morning. I had lied to Ken that I had a shift over at the café – instead I was meeting up with my mate . Ken didn’t like me meeting up with him – he reckoned that we were just far too close. I was terrified what he would do if he found out, but the chances were, he wouldn’t; he would probably just sleep all day today, having coming home pissed out of his skull. I grabbed the keys, stepped out the front door and walked along the street. The cold winter air hit me as soon as I got outside. Even though it was only November, it was freezing out. I pulled the hood of my hoodie up, shivering. Fortunately, it wasn’t too far to ‘s flat. Did I mention that he was in a massive band? He lived with two of his best mates, and . They were all pretty nice guys, but I was still closest to . was moving out soon to a different part of London, wanting some independence, so soon it would only be and . Which suited me just fine, because then I could stay over there maybe a bit.

Part 2:

I bruise easily
So be gentle when you handle me
There’s a mark you leave
Like a love heart carved on a tree
I bruise easily
Can’t scratch the surface without moving me
Underneath I bruise easily
I bruise easily

I reached out and buzzed the doorbell to the flat. “COMING!” I heard shout. I giggled to myself, slipping my hood off. “Hey ya ,” greeted me as he opened the door. “Hey,” I replied, stepping inside. “Where’s ?” “Here!” he called from his bedroom. I giggled. “Well, I’ll see you later , I’m gonna go round and see – ’s out with , so it’ll be just you and ,” informed me, winking at me. “ ! For fuck’s sake, there’s nothing going on between us! You know I’m with Ken!” I laughed. “Whatever,” he grinned. “See ya then.” “Bye!” “Hey ya gorgeous,” grinned as I entered his bedroom. “Hey ya grossly over–sexed,” I said, the two of us giving each other our little greeting. “ , you need to tidy this room – it’s a tip!” I said, stepping carefully over a pile of clutter, which were scattered all over the room. “It’s called organised mess,” stated, strumming a few chords on his guitar. “Come on then – got any new songs?” I asked. “Yep – plenty,” he grinned, playing me the first one. I always had such a wicked time with . He always made me smile, and just being with him made me forget all thoughts of Ken. Well, that is, until the conversation got back to the baby that we were supposed to be trying for. “How’s the whole ‘trying for a baby’ thing going?” asked, stretched out on the sofa. I shrugged. “Ok,” I mumbled. “Nothing much has happened yet, so it doesn’t look like there’s going to be any baby any time soon.” “ , why do I get the impression that you don’t really want a baby now?” asked, sitting up. I heaved a heavy sigh. “ , if you don’t want one, why not talk to Ken? He’d understand, wouldn’t he?” “… , listen, don’t tell anyone, but…I’m on the morning after pill, ok?” “Thought so,” stated, lying back down. “It’s just…we’re so young, and we’ve only been together a year, and I’m just not sure that, you know…he’s actually the one…you understand? And how the hell did you know that I was on the pill?” “Coz, being your best mate, I know perfectly well how far apart your periods are, and about ten days ago, you devoured a whole packet of tic-tacs and you only ever do that when you have a period.” “You cheeky bugger!” I laughed, slapping him playfully. “ , where the hell did you get that bruise on the side of your face?” asked seriously, tracing his hand up the side of my face. “It’s nothing,” I murmured, yanking away. “I just bashed it the other night.” “You keep getting all these bruises– why do you keep getting them?” “Shut up . You know I’m clumsy. It’s nothing, ok?” “No, it’s not ok. Yeah, you are clumsy, but not that clumsy. Does Ken give them to you?” “How the hell could you think that ?!” I demanded, standing up. “ , I want to know. Where –” “STOP MAKING BLOODY AUTOMATIC ASSUMTIONS THAT KEN IS DOING THIS TO ME!!!” I shouted, grabbing my hoodie and storming out. “ ! ! !” I didn’t turn back. I stormed out the flat and down the road, in a blaring rage. “ !” I felt someone’s hand grip my shoulder and turn me round, and, automatically knowing that it was , stopped. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing my cheek. “I didn’t mean it. It’s your business, and I know you wouldn’t be that stupid to get in a situation like that.” “I’m sorry too ,” I whispered, tears cascading down my cheeks as I rested my head on his chest. I just let it all out. I sobbed into his shirt continuously, him with his arms around me, shushing me. He knew better than to ask what was wrong then. He just tried to comfort me as best as he could. “Feel better now?” he asked me gently when I had finished crying. “Mmmm hmmm,” I mumbled. “I’m sorry…” “For what?” “Everything…” “Ah, what are best friends for?” he asked me softly.

Part 3:

didn’t mention my bruises again. I made sure that they were completely covered anyway, so he didn’t see them, or much of them. I reckon that he was catching on, but he didn’t want to offend me again. Things just got worse between Ken and me. Almost every single night, he came home completely drunk. He would rape me and hit me as much as he pleased, but he would always apologise in the mornings and tell me how much he loved me and how much he needed me. I kicked myself each time for staying, but I tried to kid myself that he would change back to the man that I once knew and loved. That would never happen.

I arrived on ’s doorstep one week before Christmas, tears streaming non–stop down my cheeks. Ken had had a go at me for reasons that I can’t even remember – this was what our relationship was like. He would take his anger out on me for such insignificant reasons. Anyway, had moved out of the flat and to another part of London, as the fans were getting on his nerves, constantly ringing on the doorbell. I stood on his doorstep now, feeling like it was the only place I could be safe. Of course, I hadn’t counted on being there. “Hey – whoa, what’s up? And where the hell did you get that horrible bruise from?” asked, opening the door. I suddenly realised that in my rush to get away, I had forgotten to cover up the throbbing bruise on my face. “It’s nothing… , I need to see .” “I’m here – God …fucking hell…” swore when he saw me. I covered my face with my hands and burst into a fresh batch of tears. “Hey, chill out,” soothed, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into a hug. stood there with wide eyes. “ , could you go please?” asked quietly. “Ok,” shrugged, picking up his stuff and shutting the door behind him. When he was gone, directed me to the sofa and sat me down, wiping my tears and tracing his hand over the side of my face. “What happened baby?” he asked gently. I shook my head, unable to get the words out. “ , please, give me the truth. Did Ken do this to you?” I nodded my head just the tiniest bit. let out a sigh. “And he’s the one who’s been giving you all these bruises for the past five months, right?” I nodded again, burying my face in my hands. “Oh, hey honey, it’s all right,” soothed, hugging me. “No it’s not,” I cried. “I’ve been lying to you for the past five months, and he’s been doing all this to me and…I’m so sorry!” “Hey, it’s all right, ssshhhh…look, I’m not mad at you, I just wish that you’d told me before. I could have been able to help you.” “I don’t love him anymore,” I whispered, resting my head on his chest. Gently, lifted up my head and cupped with his hand. He leant in and let his lips brush against mine, before kissing me softly and slipping his tongue into my mouth and kissing me softly. When the kiss finally ended, I was left breathless and my heart was thudding wildly. It had been ages since I had felt like this. “I…I love you,” whispered, uncertain of my reaction. “ …” I whispered, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry. You’re right. It would completely ruin our friendship. It’s wrong, I’m sorry, I never should have –” I silenced him by pressing my finger against his lips. “I love you too,” I whispered, kissing him again. We spent ages on that sofa, just kissing each other and telling each other how much we loved each other. Soon, things started getting a bit more passionate. looked deep into my eyes as if looking for any hesitation. I smiled. “Um, , um, if you want to, do you…want…want to…come upstairs? I mean, only if you want to, you don’t have to –” “Has anyone ever told you that you talk a lot?” I giggled, cutting him off. He grinned and lifted me up in his arms, carrying me upstairs. I hesitated when we reached the door. “What’s wrong?” asked. “ …you…you might not like my body,” I blurted out of nowhere. “Why?” “It’s covered in bruises and scratches and everything…” “I don’t care. You’re beautiful as you are; you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. But if you don’t want to…” “I do…but…” “It doesn’t matter baby,” whispered as he lay me down on the bed and slammed the door, kissing my neck. “You’re as beautiful as you are.”

Part 4:

I rolled over the next morning and looked at the clock. It was nine o’clock. I was exhausted from the night before – we had done everything, several times over at least. I hadn’t felt that good in ages. Slowly, I began to ease myself out of bed. groaned beside me and pulled me back down. “Don’t go,” he pleaded. “…All right, but I can’t stay much longer,” I agreed, cuddling into his warm body. “Why don’t you leave him?” asked, stroking my hair. “Because I’m scared to,” I admitted. “I’m scared of what he might do to me, or my family…” “Hey, I’ll look after you,” promised. “You’re my best mate, my girlfriend, you mean everything to me. I love you.” “I love you too.” And this time, I meant it. and I continued to see each other in secret for the next four months, from Christmas to April. I wanted so bad just to leave Ken, but I couldn’t. He would hit me and abuse me constantly, and nowadays if I tried to leave him, he would hit me harder. I told to keep out of it – I didn’t want him getting hurt. I joined them on tour from February to April, so I was Ken free for a while. My bruises would be gone by then. Now would be the perfect opportunity to leave him. But he gave me regular phone calls everyday and somehow I was still too scared to leave. It was like he was still here, watching over me. Me and took advantage of his absence, though. I loved him so much…I needed him. I knew I was hurting him by what I was doing, but I felt like I had no choice. On March the 31st, the afternoon, I knocked on ’s hotel door, tears streaming down my cheeks. It had been ages since I had been in this state. opened the door. “Hey – hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, seeing my distress. I just ran into his open arms, crying. hugged me tightly, soothing me. “Come and sit down babe, you’ll feel better. Hey, it’s all right.” He made me a cup of hot chocolate and cuddled me up on the sofa. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly when I had calmed down. “ …in any other situation…I would be happy…but…I’m pregnant,” I replied, a silent tear rolling down my cheek. sat in silence. “When did you find out?” he asked at last. “This morning,” I sniffed. “I’m nearly two weeks now, and I haven’t seen Ken in two months, so it’s yours.” “What do you wanna do?” asked quietly. “ , I want to have this baby with you. But…with Ken…” “Leave him.” “What?” “Leave him. He’s not here, move in with me, he doesn’t know that I live here. You’ll be fine. I’ll look after you – and this baby.” I hesitated. More than anything, I just wanted to have this baby with . He was right. Ken didn’t know where he lived…

Part 5:

Anyone who can touch you
Can hurt you or heal you
Anyone who can reach you
Can love you or leave you

As soon as the tour was over, I moved straight in with . The baby was due on the 31st of December and both me and were really happy about it. I couldn’t wait. I had everything I could ever want. I joined on all of his summer tours, the two of us enjoying the time we had together. Ken still hadn’t found us. I couldn’t go on the Christmas tour, because the baby was so close. “I’m so gonna miss my two favourite girls,” murmured the night before he left, nuzzling into my neck, and his hand on my swollen stomach. “I don’t know why you’re so sure it’s a girl,” I scowled him. “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay here with us. What if something goes wrong with the baby and you can’t get here on time?” “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. You know I wouldn’t leave you to cope on your own. Besides, I’m coming back early, you know that. This baby will be fine.” He bent down and kissed my bump, grinning as the baby kicked. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss you too,” he laughed. I didn’t want to let him go the next morning. I clung to him like my life depended on him. He hugged me tightly back, careful to mind my stomach. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered, but I could see the tears in his eyes. He gently wiped mine away. “I love you.” “I love you too.” We shared one more kiss before he had to go. I watched his tour bus drive away in the distance until I couldn’t see him anymore. We called each other everyday, desperate to know if me and the baby were all right. Of course we were fine – I just looked like an over–sized elephant. insisted that I didn’t, and that I looked more beautiful than he had ever seen me before. It would have been a romantic moment if it wasn’t for the vomiting noises made in the background by and . About three weeks before the baby was due and a week before came back, I went down to see their gig in Wembley. It was amazing, as usual. fussed over me, but I insisted that I was fine. The morning after the gig, I was having a long lie–in. had instructed me to stay in bed, and I was more than happy to oblige – I was so tired nowadays. He had gone down to the stadium and had told me to call him if something happened. I had just come out of the bathroom when I heard a noise. A window breaking. “Who’s there?” I demanded. “Me sweetheart,” came an oh–so–familiar voice. I screamed as I saw the figure of Ken approach me. “Weren’t expecting to see me again, were we darling?” he mocked. “Oh, and look, we’re now pregnant with your best mate’s baby. How predictable was that?” “Fu…fuck off Ken,” I stuttered, clutching my stomach as I felt a contraction. “Don’t think I want to do that.” He raised the knife in his hands. I ran back into the bathroom and locked the door, huddling into the shower. I groaned as I felt my waters break. I reached out for my mobile on the sink – it’s a terrible habit, but I always leave it in the bathroom – and sent a text, simply saying: Help. Within minutes, called me. I could hear his footsteps as he thudded up the stairs. “ !” “ , help, I’ve gone into labour, Ken’s here –” I screamed as Ken broke down the door. He raised the knife above me. Two seconds later, he got a bloody nose. hit him across the floor of the hotel room. “LEAVE HER FUCK ALONE!” he shouted. As Ken picked himself up, knelt down beside me. “You all right?” he asked softly. “N…no,” I mumbled. “Hey, its ok, an ambulance is on its way,” soothed. He cried out in pain as Ken kicked him in the back. “ !” I screamed. “HANDS UP!” I heard the policeman shout. Instantly, Ken dropped his weapon. Within minutes, the police were swarming the place, taking Ken away. crawled up to me. “Are you all right?” he groaned. “ , you stupid twit, sit still,” I commanded, gripping my stomach. “Miss. and Mr. , could you please come with us?” the paramedics asked. After five long hours of painful pushing, Jemima Laura was born. According to , she looked just like me – although I know she has her father’s naughty eyes. “Ken’s out of our lives for good now baby,” whispered when the midwives left. “He won’t bother us again.” I sighed of happiness, stroking our daughter’s head as I cradled her in my arms. “She’s beautiful,” murmured, kissing her forehead softly. “Actually , there’s something I really want to ask you, I know I should have asked you earlier, but it didn’t feel like the right time…” He dropped down on one knee and pulled a little box out of his pocket. I knew what he was going to ask. “Will you marry me?” “Of course you moron!” I laughed, kissing him. And of course we all lived happily ever after…