Lately I've been spending most of my time working diligently on book 2 .....when not fighting week-long bouts of chronic pain.....but I digress.  So really there's not much for me to post about, except "Yep, still working on book 2.".......or giving exciting, perhaps detailed accounts of my ER visits.......but that's not going to happen.  
In order to save anyone who reads my posts from dangerous levels of boredom, I've decided to start posting some of my short stories! ツ  
Not on any regular basis, of course (what am I, organized?!).....but roughly every week.
Or so. 

The first offering is a very  short story called "Fixed".....please to enjoy! ♥
(warning for mild language....and no sunshine or roses)


It burns. I don’t have to check my reflection in the rear-view mirror to see the hand-sized splotch of red radiating from my cheek. At least it’s not as bad as last time. When my eye started turning black my parents started asking questions. Sometimes it hurts that they always accept whatever lame excuse I give them. They don’t know…or they don’t care.  
A trickle of blood slides down to my lip, but I ignore it. No one in the cars around me can see me through all the rain. They can’t see the blood…the bruises…the Blackest Black mascara streaking down my face.
I don’t want to cry anymore. 
The thump-squeak, thump-squeak of the windshield wipers is off beat with the rain pounding hard on the roof. It’s too loud. It’s too much. I’m having a hard time seeing the road. I’m having a hard time seeing a lot of things lately.
Why I let him treat me like shit.
Why I let him hit me.
Why I can’t let him go.
It wasn’t always this way. He was amazing in the beginning. He worshipped me. Now all I seem to do is make him angry. But we used to have a lot of good times. For our first month anniversary he gave me a stuffed pink flamingo because he knew I’m obsessed with them. I named him Flappy since one of his wings wouldn’t lay flat.  We argued about what a stupid name that was, but in the end I got my way. On our second anniversary he gave me a silver heart necklace with our names engraved on the back. He told me he loved me that night. He’s never said that to any girl before. And deep down I know he does love me. He’s just got some…stuff to work through. 
His step-dad used to beat him. He showed me the scars and got tears in his eyes when he told me. His step-dad was a monster. His mom was never around much. He never knew his real dad. That’s why he needs me. No one has ever loved him like I do. I can help him heal from everything his family did to him. Yeah, it hurts to be the one he takes his anger out on, but that won’t be forever. I just have to wait it out. 
If I leave him, he has no one. 
I just got a text. I hope it’s not my parents. I can’t go home now looking like this.
It’s him.

<I’m so sorry>

My heart does a little flip as I pull over to text him back. It takes me a few minutes to figure out what I’m going to say....if I’m even going to say anything at all. Outside the rain's slowing down to a drizzle and it's time to let him know how I feel.

<Me, too>