Time-Lapse by J.B. Heller
PART ONE - PROLOGUE
Dabbingat the small cut that splits my eyebrow, I wince at the stinging sensation spreading through the split skin from the peroxide. I attempt to clean away the blood that seeps from the wound. It’s not too deep, so I should only need to put a small butterfly bandage on it and hope the skin starts to knit itself back together quickly.
Tonight, while helping my old man get his drunken ass in bed, he tried to pull away from me and ended up elbowing me in the face. I’m most likely going to have a black eye in the morning, which will go perfectly with my busted brow.
He’s never intentionally hit me—not yet, at least. I can see it in his eyes, though; he’s thought about it. He hates me enough. I’m actually surprised he hasn’t.
But even without his fists, he manages to inflict pain. His cruel, hate-filled words repeat in my head long after he’s passed out.
I push the sides of the gash together with the thumb and forefinger of my left hand while applying the butterfly with my right. It should be healed enough to take it off by Sunday afternoon.
After wrapping the bloodied cotton balls up in a tissue, I throw them in the small trash can I keep in my bathroom for just such occasions, then I retreat to my room. Dad will be passed out until morning now, and I don’t have to worry about running into him again. Regardless, my room is my sanctuary and where I spend most of my time when I’m home.
Photos I’ve taken over the years cover my walls, somehow bringing me peace. Taking in the moments I’ve captured through my lens soothes me as I fall asleep.
“Best concert EVER!”I gush to Ben, who came home from college for the weekend to surprise me with tickets to P!NK’s sold-out concert tonight. I seriously have the best brother in the world.
“She’s pretty awesome, huh? That thing she did in the ribbons, hanging from the ceiling while she was singing … that was intense,” Ben says.
I nod emphatically. “I know! She’s a true performer. That would take so much work, moderating her voice, controlling her body as she tumbled and swung through the air in those silks. She must have amazing concentration.”
“And balls of steel,” Ben adds. “You wouldn’t catch me swinging off a regular ceiling from a piece of fabric, let alone the roof of a fucking stadium. No. Fucking. Way. I felt sick just watching her.”
I snort. Ben has a terrible fear of heights. As in, he’s so bad that he can’t climb to the top rung of a ladder without sweating bullets and praying for his life.
“Thanks for tonight. You didn’t have to do this. But I’m glad you did.” I smile over at him as he steers his car onto our street.
He reaches over and messes up my hair. “It wasn’t all for you. You were just my excuse to check out P!NK without losing my man card.”
“Ha ha,” I say with a roll of my eyes while smoothing my hair back down. I honestly don’t care why we went. It was freaking awesome.
Mom and Dad are already in bed when we walk inside. We have pretty laid-back parents. If we’re together, they don’t mind if we miss curfew. Like tonight, it’s already two a.m., and my regular curfew is midnight. Ben doesn’t have one since he’s already in college.
I flop back on my bed and stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling. I love my life.
