Excerpt of The Difference of Love

A story of conquering the struggles of health-- physical and mental-- and conquering it together. Coming soon. Please enjoy this light excerpt of what is to come.

~IZZY POV~

“Well, it’s nothing new on my end with scars. You’ll look worse than I do,” I laughed jokingly. “With a black eye and a bruised face, she’ll probably let you go on this one.”

He laughed along with me.

We walked to my house after school together, getting in the cool spring air and letting it chill our wounded faces.

“Are you sure your mom won’t kill me?” Kick said nervously as we walked up the steps.

“Don’t know… We’ll have to see,” I smirked.

I knocked on the door and Mom opened it.

“Oh jeez, what happened to you, Iz?” she said, taking my deformed face in her soft and gentle hands before cautiously looking at Kick. “And who is he?”

“Mom, this is Kick, my friend from school.”

“Uh, hi. There was a fight in school. Some guy was picking on Izzy and I stepped in. She tried to stop us but... I accidentally punched her in the process. I’m… really, really, really, really sorry.”

“Well,” Mom said, trying to sort this out in her head and contain all the righteous anger in her heart. “Thank you for your honesty and uh… bringing Izzy home.”

“I’ll... head home now. See ya, Iz,” he said, turning to go.

“Wait, we can’t let you go home like that,” Mom said, taking his arm and leading him to the kitchen island to get his face cleaned up. She had everything possibly needed in a first aid kit because of all the surgeries I had and she was a registered nurse.

“What will your mother say if she sees this?”

“Uh, Mom…” I said, trying to step in. I noticed Kick’s face turning red with embarrassment.

I knew he didn’t have a mom. He told me she had died in a car accident when he was a baby. Only he and his dad survived it. But, as Mom was cleaning his face gently, I saw a slight happy smile come across his swollen face. I guess it felt good to have a maternal figure who cared about him for a moment.

~KICK POV~

I went home sort of late after being at Izzy’s house. I knew my dad would flip out and hit me again. No matter how good my day was or whether I came home early or late, I’d get a good beating and my good day would turn into another bad one. I would leave the house looking worse than when I came in and soon enough, ice packs never helped. I unlocked the door with my key, taking one last look at the beautiful sunset before I entered my dark world.

As soon as I unlocked the door, my coffee-colored lab Penny greeted me, jumping up and licking my bruised face gently but happily. She’s the only girl in our family— the only one in my family who looks out for me besides Gran.

“Hey, girl. How are ya? You’re a good girl, aren’t ya?” I said, automatically babying her and closing the door. “Where’s Da–”

“KENNY!! WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!” Dad shouted at the top of his slurred voice. I’ve never liked any nicknames related to Ken the Barbie doll and I’m pretty sure you know why now; Dad knew that but he never listens. Penny whimpered and cowered behind me but unable to hide her chocolate figure. She had always been scared of Dad, ever since she was a puppy.

“I was at a friend–”

“DON’T TALK BACK TO ME LIKE THAT!” he said, slapping me back and forth with a broken beer bottle.

“Dad, you got to stop drinking. It’s not good for you,” I said calmly, grabbing the broken bottle gently out of his hand and throwing it in the recycling.

“AGH, don’t tell me WHAT to do. I’m gonna make dinner,” he said, stumbling toward the kitchen.

“No, no, no. I’ll do it, Dad. Go rest,” I said, pushing him along to his bedroom.

“Agh, DON’T touch me!” he said, shooing me away. He tripped and swayed to his bedroom.

I made ramen from the box like always and brought him dinner. I walked, finding him guzzling another beer as he watched TV.

“Dad,” I said, taking away the beer and giving him the ramen.

He didn’t respond, glued to the football game. I walked out the room and threw away the beer. I cleaned up the living room again, like I do everyday, clearing all the beer bottles and broken glass. I had experience with plenty of cuts on me from the broken shards and so did Penny and the bearer of the broken bottles.

I sat on the floor to do my homework. Penny came up and laid down beside me.

“It’s okay, girl,” I said, petting her softly and offering her a treat. “Things will get better… somehow.”

I finished my homework before midnight, trying to concentrate as much as I could. As soon as that was done, I made my way to my room, the only clean place in my house that didn’t smell like beer. Penny followed as I got ready for bed in my bathroom. I fell into bed, curled myself up into a ball with Penny next to me and hoped with all my might that things would get better.

I woke up the next morning early, knowing I had another bruise, another cut on my face. It was deeper this time, adding to the cut already made in my fight with that jerk, Leo. Dried blood made a primitive scar and the bruise from yesterday was still there, if not worse.

Izzy and her mom had asked why I had so many bruises and scars. I dismissed it, saying I’m pretty clumsy and end up hurting myself.

But Izzy’s my friend, I can’t lie to her anymore. I’m a horrible liar anyway and that’s the one thing my dad beat out of me: lies. I mean, granted, everyone sees my everyday scars and bruises but the ones who care, ask. She asks where I got that bruise or that scar from and I make up some story about skateboarding or back-flipping or some crazy stunt, when I’ve never done any of those in my life. Today… I needed to tell her today. Sure, my dad could get in trouble or go to jail for abusing me but I’d rather go and live with my grandparents. And I will.

Quietly, I grabbed everything in my room and stuffed them in two boxes that were still leftover from our move and my suitcase. I didn’t have much so it made packing easy. I quickly folded all of my clothes into my suitcase and one of the boxes. Every other thing that was of value to me I put in the boxes with the picture of my mom holding me as a baby being the last thing before I folded the covers over the boxes. I grabbed my backpack and everything and headed out the door. I took Penny and some of her dog treats with me. That was another thing I learned with Dad: hide everything of value because it will be broken.

Gran’s house was only a couple blocks away. I rushed quietly through the streets. The sky was just shining its early morning light. The suitcase rolling against the concrete, the shifting of boxes and Penny’s silent presence was calming for me. Every minute before this, I lived in fear— fear of getting hurt again, fear of my own father. You shouldn’t be afraid of your own immediate family.

I always went to Gran’s house for breakfast anyway. I knocked on the door quietly and called out my identity as if I needed to, knowing that Gran was usually up during this time with a plate of pancakes, bacon and eggs waiting for me. I opened the door and immediately saw my Gran at work in the kitchen. She turned to me, smiling sweetly.

“How’s my little Kick?” she quietly said, taking my face in her hands and was about to pinch my cheeks when she saw my scar. “Oh, goodness. What has your father done to you now?”

“Broken beer bottle and a school fight I was in yesterday.”

She sighed, dropping her hands and leading the way to the table.

“Can Penny and I stay here for good? I don’t want to leave her at Dad’s.”

“Of course. Sailor would love some company and so would we,” she said as Penny was already sniffing and playing Gran’s little white Highland terrier. “How’s your friend?”

“Izzy? She’s fine. She was trying to stop me from fighting this guy who was being a total jerk, bullying her but I… accidentally hit her too.”

“Kendrick,” she replied quietly as she put a cold rag on my bruise and cut. I knew she was upset when she said my first name like that. “Don’t be like your dad. I know you were trying to defend Izzy, no doubt, but violence isn’t the answer. You know it isn’t. You experience the truth of that everyday.”

“Yes, Gran.”

I didn’t want to become like Dad. I finished my plate, washed it and went to the bedroom upstairs, specifically built for me. Dad didn’t know that Gran and Pop lived in the area and he wouldn’t know anytime soon for everyone’s safety. I put my suitcase, backpack and boxes on the ground and fell onto the navy blue bed. I breathed in fresh air and the peace and quiet besides Gran cooking breakfast for Pop. I checked the time and then a quiet knock sounded at my door.

“Come in,” I replied, putting my phone down and sat up on the edge of the bed. Pop opened the door and smiled. He thumped over and took a seat next to me on the bed.

“Hey there, sport,” he said, staring at the gash on my face. “You’re staying with us now, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Good man,” he said, patting my back. “I always knew you’d come to stay. We’ll take good care of you and Penny. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.”

“Speaking of worrying,” I said, looking at the time and the sun rising in the sky. “I need to get going. I’m supposed to walk with Izzy to school. See ya, Pop.”

“See ya later,” he yelled as I grabbed my backpack and rushed downstairs.

“Bye, Gran,” I whispered, giving her a swift peck on the cheek. She chuckled and kept cooking as I flew out the door.

As usual, I ran away from the route where I knew Dad was going to drive on for work and found my way to Izzy’s house. She was already sitting on her doorstep when I came running up.

“Hey,” I puffed, trying to catch my breath.

“Hey,” she said suspiciously, looking a little concerned. “You okay?”

“I’m fine. I just realized I'm way out of shape. You wanna get going?”

She nodded suspiciously and we walked to school like we had done for a while.

“Your scar looks worse,” she said subtly.

“Oh. Yeah, uh, well… I… you know me, always doing something."

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