No one ever seems to notice that I go missing at the end of every day, or that I grimace and whine in pain whenever I have to catch a passed basketball in gym class. The summer is the only time I can escape the hurt and that is the best three months of any year. I have friends, but I am still a loner. I hang out with them on the weekends, but at lunch time, as opposed to sitting at a table with them, I sit with my back against a near-by tree and face the sun with a good book.

My book-bag was kicked halfway down the hall when they grabbed me so I have to limp 20 feet in the wrong direction to get it just so I can go home. When I finally make it out the front doors of the school, there is a black Camero in the parking lot near the trees and the football field, and it doesn't belong to any of the jocks or the few teachers that linger in the building. I can't shake the feeling that I'm being watched so I hurry out of the parking lot and make quick work of the 14 blocks I have to walk to get home.

When my warm home is in sight, I can't help but smile because of how safe I already feel. My olive green Mustang is parked in the driveway, right where I left it. I have a car, but I don't generally drive it because it's bad for the peace and serenity of nature around me. It gets hard to stay positive when there is a large group of guys constantly trying to rip the joy from my life. Just like any other day, when I walk through the door, my Siberian Husky, Fallon is running down the hall to greet me. He is the best dog I could ever have asked for.

I herd Fallon into the kitchen as I follow my nose to what smells like dinner in the works. My mom is standing over the stove cooking vegan lasagne for me and a roasted chicken for everyone else. She hears me come into the room and puts down the spoon in her hand to turn around and face me.

"How was your day sweety?"

"It was pretty boring today, you know, the usual."

"Well honey, I made you some cookies, they are up in your room on your desk."

Thanks Mom." The smile I give her is 100% real. My Mom and Dad are the light of my life. My Mom tries so hard for me and Taylor. I could never tell her about the way I get treated at school, it would break her heart and send her into a panic. In the last year, I have had change schools three times because she was worried about me. It is better this way, I'm sure.

As I get to the top of the stairs, I walk past Taylor's room which is empty, as it usually is at this time of day. Her walls are covered with posters and pictures of all of her friends and her boyfriend, Alex Gaskarth. Alex is a great guy, I had to approve of him before Taylor would go out with him because she trusts my opinion. They met less than a week after we moved here 8 months ago, and they hit it off immediately. That is another reason why I can't tell anyone about the beatings: Taylor. She means the world to me and I hate to see her upset or hurt in any way. I know that she loves me too, which is why she hasn't complained about constantly switching schools, but I know it hurts her to have to get up and leave her friends and start over. Now that she has found Alex, I really can't mess with that. She has sacrificed enough of her happiness for me that she deserves to be happy. Taylor isn't my twin, but she was born nine months after I was, so we are both seniors now. We have been close siblings and friends since she was born, and never want that to change.

I walk a little further down the hall to my room and I am attacked by the intoxicating aroma of fresh chocolate chip cookies. My Momma always knows how to make me smile at the end of the day. I grab the plate and drop down onto one of the bean bag chairs on the opposite side of my room. I pop a cookie into my mouth and stand up again. I wince as I peel off my tight skinny jeans. Even a quick glance down reminds me of my latest scars. Several angry red lines stand out on the pale skin of my thighs, lacing over older scars from months ago. Monday was a bad one for me, I'm not a cutter. I don't feel bad for myself. I don't cry a river over every one of my little problems, but some days, it's a little too much. I don't know how to handle it without letting it out somehow. I try to stay as level headed as possible about what I go through in a day, but sometimes, logical thinking isn't nearly enough to get me through.

I pull on some pants from my dresser drawer and sit back down on the bean bag chair. I close my eyes to take a short rest and give my body a break, but it turns into a full on sleep. I am woken by Taylor knocking on my door.

"Chrissy? Are you awake in there?"

"Yeah, umm, you can come in."

"Good, because I was going to come in anyway." Taylor's smile pulls a sleepy smile onto my face.

"Privacy, it's a thing. Hey, so you're back. How was hanging out with Alex?" Her smile gets impossibly wider.

"He is amazing. He took me to the park and he did some photography work for this project he is working on. You should hang out with us some time.

"I would rather not spend hours watching him make out with my little sister."

"That isn't all we do."

"Wow, TMI!" She can't help but laugh at this.

"You know that isn't what I was talking about."

"Yeah, whatever you say." I push myself up to stand and head towards the door. Is papa home yet?"

"Yeah, he just got in, it's time for dinner."

We head down the stairs together with Fallon trailing behind us. Just as expect, my father is sitting at one end of the table facing my mother, leaving two seats for Taylor and I to sit across from each other.

I eat my lasagna while everyone while everyone else eats chicken because I am a vegan. I don't believe in killing animals just so that we can eat them. There is a lot of other stuff I don't agree with, like how little we have been doing to help sustain the environment though we are the ones who messed it up. I stand by the environment which is why my bedroom looks like a meadow with wood floors and brown/green stripped walls. I have fresh flowers on everything in my room, and my mama puts new flowers on my guitar and ukelele every afternoon.

"So Chris, how was your day?" My papa asks me the one question I want to hear the least. I hate lying to my parents and Tay, but it is for their own good.

"Oh you know, the same old routine again, nothing special. " That is all I have to say and the dinner conversation is on its normal track, and I am happy again; or as close as I can be to happy.

Notes

Until next time.