Act 1 | Chapter 16

"Something up?" Riley asked, sitting down beside me at the lunch table the next day. I was staring down at my food, eating quietly. It still hurt to sit down anywhere, but not as bad as last night.

"I..." No words came to mind. I wanted to cry, I really did, but if I did in school, it would be the death of me. "M- My mom yelled at me yesterday."

"About your eye?"

"Yeah." I glanced over at Riley, "She yelled at me for like an hour."

"Did she do anything else to you?" Riley tilted her head.

"No." I lied. "Nothing... violent." It was impossible to hide the sadness in my voice.

"Well, I'm glad it wasn't anything violent." She commented and patted my shoulder. I was silent for a while, before finally responding. In that time, I had to hold back the urge to tear up just thinking about it.

"You don't know why she gets mad at me though."

"Because she cares?"

"I wish." I wiped my eyes to stop any tears from showing, "I wish she cared for me as your mom does."

Riley leaned onto my shoulder and patted my head.

"Well, your welcome to stay with us anytime you want." She replied.

"I know. But I have to go home sometime's. She never notices me, unless she wants too. Mom wants me to always keep my skin clean, and clear of any bruises or cuts. That's why I don't play outside and always wear long-sleeve clothing." I held my arms up a bit.

"I see, is that why you stopped joining me in the park?"

I gave Riley a nod and took a deep breath.

"Yeah. I need to keep my skin 'clean' for her to use."

"For her to use." Riley got off me and stared at me, looking confused, and concerned.

"Mhm." I groaned. My face scrunched up and turned red. "She's into body painting and she's been using me as a canvas for years." I clenched my hand's into a fist, not hard enough to dig my nails into my skin though. "Go home, shower, make sure to wash your hair, scrub hard, moisturize, put lotion on, pop pimples, ext. She makes me take two showers when I get home from work because of the grease."

I looked at Riley, and she just stared at me in silence.

"And she makes me..." I stopped for a moment to take another deep breath, trying to calm down, and not yell at this point, "She makes me strip down and get naked. Then she paints all over me, and she does it all day, and... I have no choice but to let her use me."

"That can't be right," Riley said, frowning.

"It is. She locks me in a stupid wardrobe for hours if my skin is at all 'damaged'. Like yesterday."

"A wardrobe? Why a Wardrobe!?"

"To lock me in a dark, and small space where I have little room."

"And you just sit in there for hours? With nothing?" Riley started to sound more and more concerned the more I talked. Perhaps it would be a good idea to end this conversation soon.

"Pretty much." I gently held my hand up to my bride and rubbed my finger against it. The wound was still sore. Riley leaned over and tried giving me a small hug, in an attempt to comfort me, and it did help a bit. I calmed down enough to start breathing normally again.

"It's such shit," I mumbled.

"It is." She replied.

"Do you see why I spend so much time at your place?"

"Y- Yeah." Riley nodded, and patted my back, "I just thought you liked our place." She tried joking. It worked, and I couldn't help but smile a bit, and chuckle with her.

"I do like it. It's better than my place, that's for sure."

Riley nodded, and pat my back one more time before eating her lunch.

A lot of time passed before my black eye was completely gone. Another three weeks later with the art contest being on Friday at the end of the week. The good thing about that was we didn't actually have school on Friday. It was a day off, but for me and the other contestants, we still had to come in. My time over the last few weeks was spent locked up in my room, and finishing the painting. I was working on some last-minute details and added a few lines to the face, maybe some shading to certain areas. The day was going great, until I heard the front door open, and the sound of people talking.

"Are you sure your parents won't be angry?"

"Nah, my folks I'll love you!" I could hear John say. Already, I could tell who the other voice was Maria was in my house. Guess it isn't the first time, based on certain things I have found around the place, but I've never been here when she has.

"Why don't you invite me over more often?" Maria asked, her voice coming from the downstairs kitchen.

"Well, my place isn't all that great. Plus my sister." He responded. I sat on my bed in silence, listening to the two talking.

"Oh! Your sister. That bitch."

I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah. Hey, you wanna see something funny." He said. Their conversation soon faded out of earshot. I couldn't tell where they were, but I didn't care. As long as my doors were left locked, and Maria didn't try coming in, I was going to be alright.