From the dark silence comes a loud noise, the machinegun-like sounds of Metallica’s One begin to blare out of the tiny speakers of Evans cell phone, strategically places on his headboard. As the noise rises in volume, continuing into the song, Evan blearily opens his eyes just as James Hetfield begins to sing.

 

“Darkness!

Imprisoning Me!
All That I See!
Absolute Horror!
How Can I Live?
How Can I Die?
Tra-“

 

Evan shuts the alarm on his phone off and climbs out of bed, shaking his head, attempting to wake himself up. He rubs his eyes as he stands up, reaching over his head for the string to his light. After missing it a few times, he grasps the string, yanking on it, activating the bright light. He shields his eyes, waiting for them to adjust, before walking to his dresser. He pulls out a black t-shirt that reads ‘And Justice For All’ and is emblazoned with the album cover of the same name.  Evan grabs a pair of blue jeans from another dresser drawer and heads to his shower, conveniently located ten feet from his bed, although in a separate room. He turns the water on, waiting for it to heat up.

 

---Amy’s House---

 

A sharp bang on her door scares Amy out of her deep sleep, causing her to tumble out of bed, landing hard on the floor.

 

“Get the fuck up!”

 

Amy shakes off the last remnants of sleep and heads to the bathroom, grabbing her clothing for the day, a black skirt and white blouse. She also grabs Evans outer shirt, intending to give it back to him. She heads into the bathroom, dodging her father as she does. She sets her clothing on the hamper and looks into the mirror. As she sees the purple bruising around her left eye, she remembers the event s of the previous night.

 

 

---September 16^th, 2008, 7:35 PM, Amy Riley’s Home---

 

As Amy closes the door behind her, she smiles to herself, thinking that the day had been a good one. She turns around to find her father staring at her from the end of the hallway, a dark, drunken look on his face. He begins to walk closer to her and Amy, remembering his drunken tirades, presses herself against the door, trying not to move so as not to rile him up.

 

“You’re late. Your curfew is 7:30 Sharp, not 7:35, not 8:05, not 7:57. This is the last time, I’m gonna tell you, I will be obeyed!”

 

Amy shrinks further to the floor with her fathers every word, managing to squeak out a faint apology.

 

“I’m sorry, it’ll never happen again...”

 

Her father steps closer, grabbing her by Evans shirt and yanking her to her feet, slamming her against the door. He leans down, his face mere inches away from her own, his hot, stinking breath forcing its way into her nose.

 

“Oh no, you’re not sorry just yet…but you will be.”

 

Amy’s father backs away from her, raising Amy’s hope that he was through with her, that all she would get was yelled at, but, her hopes are dashed as her father begins to undo his belt. He pulls it out of the loops on his pants, folding it in half, snapping it, the loud crack echoing all over the house.

 

“Assume the position.”

 

Amy turns her back to her father, removing Evans shirt as she does, leaving her in a semi-transparent white blouse, thanks to the rain. She puts her hands on the door, spreading her legs to the side to brace herself for her imminent punishment. Tears begin to stream down her face, all too familiar with her fathers’ favorite brand of punishment: physical abuse. She bites her lip as the first slash with the belt lands across her back, holding her yelp of pain in, knowing that, if she made a sound, it would be much worse. He slashes the belt across Amy’s back yet again; she winces away from the attack, angry red welts already showing through her blouse. His belt tears into her back five more times, each hit worse than the last, leaving Amy in a crumpled heap on the floor, tears still flowing, her back a criss-cross of red welts, feeling as if her back were on fire. She slowly begins to crawl towards the stairs, thinking her punishment was over. He father sees this and stomps over to her, grabbing her by the hair. He yanks up, hard, pulling her to her feet. He forces her to look at him, hair still pulled back in his left hand. He slaps her across the face with his right hand, splitting her lip and blacking her eye, keeping her upright by the hair. He pulls her closer to him, forcing her to stare into his bloodshot eyes.

 

“You better thank me for this, girl. It was for your own good.”

 

He throws her to the ground and looks down at her, awaiting his thanks. When none arrives, he sends his boot flying into her stomach, knocking with wind out of her. Sobbing, she looks up at her father and, her voice filled with venom, she thanks him.

 

“Thank you daddy…”

 

“Good girl. Go to your room.”

 

He turns away from her, heading into the kitchen for more booze. Amy picks herself up, using the stair railing to do it, holding her ribs in pain.  She reaches down and grabs Evans shirt and begins to slowly climb the stairs, her back still throbbing, hating her father with every step of the way. She tells no one of her punishments, knowing that, if she did, she would be taken away from her father, sent to an orphanage, or a foster family. With her mother having died years ago, cancer had taken her, she had no other family, and, as much as she hated her father, living with him was better than living with a foster family, or so she thought.

 

---Present Day---

 

Amy represses the previous nights events as she unbuttons her blouse, having been too worn out to change; she had slept in her clothes. She pulls the shirt off, tossing it to the floor, and turns her back to the mirror, looking over her shoulder, counting the seven slashes from her fathers’ belt that had become as bruised as round her eye. She turns the shower on and finishes undressing as the water heats up. She steps into the shower, pulling the curtain closed behind her, her back to the head of the shower, letting the drops of water spray against her bruises, lessening the pain. As the tears start to flow again, she wishes for a better life, wishes that it had been her father that cancer had taken, not her mother.

 

 

---Evan’s House, September 17^th, 2008, 7:15 AM---

 

Evan opens the door leading out of the basement, switching the lights off as he leaves his room. He heads into the kitchen, where he finds Edward and Jessica eating their breakfast. Edward glances up at him from his morning coffee, noticing something different about Evan.

 

“You look…different, this morning, but I can’t place what it is…”

 

Jessica looks over at Evan from her eggs, easily figuring it out.

 

“He’s not wearing that awful red shirt.”

 

“Aha, that’s it! Finally realized that’s not a good look for you, eh?”

 

Evan opens the refrigerator, pulling out a bottle of Coke, before retorting.

 

“I happen to like that look, thank you very much. I gave it to Amy last night, she was cold, it was raining, and I’m a nice guy.”

 

“Sounds like you’ve got a little crush to me…”

 

Evan twists the top off of the bottle, glaring at Edward as he does.

 

“Cant you shut him up Grandma?”

 

Without glancing away from her plate, Jessica quickly answers him.

 

“I’ve been to trying for 40 years now.”

 

Evan rolls his eyes and leaves the kitchen, when there comes a knock at the front door. Seeing as how he is up anyways, Evan walks into the hallway and opens the door. Standing on his porch is Amy, wearing his red shirt, as well as a pair of thick sunglasses that obscure her eyes, smiling at him, book bag at her side.

 

“Ready to go?”

 

“Two seconds.”

 

Evan reaches behind the door and grabs his black bag and starts out the door. He yells back to his grandparents, letting them know he is leaving.

 

“See you guys later!”

 

He shuts the door behind him and swings the bag onto his shoulders, noticing that Amy is carrying hers, instead of wearing it like she usually does. As the two leave Evans porch and head off to school, Evan glances upward, noticing that it was slightly overcast, making Amy’s sunglasses useless.

 

‘What’s with the glasses?”

 

Amy ducks her head down, getting a bit nervous, not wanting Evan to know about her punishment, she stammers out an answer, hoping to avert him.

 

“Uh…um...Nothing, I just like them…”

 

“Alrighty then…any particular reason you’re carrying your bag?”

 

Fearing that he is beginning to suspect something, Amy snaps at him.

 

“Are we playing twenty questions now? I’m carrying it because I damn well want to!”

 

Evan raises his hands peacefully, attempting to avert the situation.

 

“Whoa now, chillax. No need to bite my head off.”

 

Amy shakes her head, stopping completely now. She sets her back down and puts her face in her hands. She takes a deep breath before looking up at Evan.

 

“I’m sorry; I just had a….rough night.”

 

“Hey, completely understandable, all is forgiven. Now, give us a hug.”

 

Evan opens his arms towards her and, after a moment’s hesitation, Amy steps into his awaiting arms, wrapping her own around him as she does. He places his hands on her back, applying a tiny bit of pressure, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain from Amy. She pulls away from him, biting her lip to keep from crying out again. Due to her quick movement, her glasses slip off her face and fall to the ground, revealing her black eye. Evan immediately steps closer, an angry look on his face now.

 

“What happened to your face? Did someone hit you? Tell me who, I’ll kill “em”

 

Amy shrinks away from his touch, turning her back to him, trying to prevent the tears from flowing again.

 

“No, no one hit me, I-I ran into a door, that’s all.”

 

A suspicious look comes over Evans face as he crosses his arms.

 

“Are you sure no one hit you?”

 

Amy nods her head quickly, turning back to face him, wiping her unshed tears away.

 

“Yes, I’m positive. I ran into my door last night.”

 

Deciding to drop it, Evan sighs, looking towards the direction they had been walking before.

 

“Whatever you say…you need another hug, come here.”

 

This time, Amy moves in for the hug easier. Evan runs his hand softly up and down Amy’s back, feeling the welts and bruising, raising his suspicions even more. He pulls her away from him, his hands still on her shoulders, looking into her eyes, wanting to get to the bottom of her injuries.

 

“Who did this to you? Please, Amy, tell me.”

 

She wrenches herself out of his grip and turns away from him again, even more tears coming now.

 

“I told you, I ran into a door!”

 

“A door didn’t do that to your back.”

“I fell down the stairs.”

 

“Bullshit. That’s bullshit and you know it! Tell me who did it and I’ll fix it! Let me help you.”

 

Amy turns back to him, stepping towards him, tears freely flowing down her face. She leans against him, resting her head against his chest. He wraps his arms around her, letting her get it all out. She continues to cry, talking to Evan, her voice a bit muffled.

 

“Please just drop it, there’s nothing you can do. Please, just let it go.”

 

“I can’t do that. You’re coming back to my house, right now. This is more important than school, and you don’t have a choice in the matter.”

 

Evan grabs Amy’s bag off the ground, slinging it onto his shoulders over his own bag, before bending down, hooking his left am under the crook of Amy’s knees, his right arm n her back, placing it so that he doesn’t further harm the welts. He lifts her off the ground, surprising Amy. He turns back to his house and begins to head towards it. After travelling for several minutes in silence, Amy quietly speaks, not meeting Evans eyes.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Evan continues on in silence, a car he recognizes passes by him, Jays face pressed against the passenger window, confused. The car screeches to a stop a few feet behind them and jay rushes out of the passenger side. He runs over to Evan and Amy, looking down at Amy’s bruised face.

 

“Dude, what happened?”

 

Evan continues walking, forcing Jay to walk with them.

 

“Nothing. Go to school.”

 

“Evan, dude, look at her face, what happened?”

 

Evan stops in his tracks, now looking at Jay, a hard look in his eyes.

 

“Jay. Go. To. School. NOW!”

 

Evans words confuse jay even more, but he begins to return to the car.

 

“Jeez man, I just asked a question, don’t gotta bite my head off…”

 

Jay walks back to the car and climbs back in, watching as Evan continues to walk back to his house. The car drives off, leaving them in silence yet again. Evan looks down at Amy as he nears his home, feeling her steady breathing, noticing that her eyes have closed, having fallen asleep. Evan walks onto his porch and kicks the door, not having any free hands to open it. After a few seconds, Edward opens the door, looking down at Evan in confusion.

 

“What—“

 

“Shh! Tell you in a minute.”

 

Evan pushes passed his grandfather, heading towards his door. His grandfather follows him, opening the door for him, knowing that his grandson wouldn’t do something like this without a good reason. Evan walks down the stairs, careful not to hit his head on the low ceiling. As he steps onto the carpeted cement, he walks over to his bed. He lays Amy down on it, resting her head on his pillows. He grabs his cover off the ground where he had tossed it earlier that morning, draping it over her. He bends down and lightly kisses her on her forehead before turning back to the stairs. He climbs the stairs, looking up and his grandfather, who had been waiting at the top. Evan shuts the door softly behind him, leading his grandfather into the kitchen. Evan sits down in one of the chairs surrounding the table, leaning his head back, staring at the ceiling. Once Edward sits down across from him, Evan launches into his explanation.

 

“On the way to school, I found out that Amy is all bruised up. She’s got welts on her back, a black eye, and a busted lip. She claims that she ran into a door and fell down some stairs. You know as well as I do that that’s a lie. I think her dads been hitting her. She won’t let me help her; I don’t know what to do.”

 

After a moment of silence, Edward speaks up, having thought on the situation.

 

“There’s not much you can do, son. If she says he hasn’t been hitting her, then we have no proof, other than speculation. I saw her black eye, and that definitely wasn’t made by a door. I think you’re right about her dad hitting her. For now, we won’t do anything. If we go to the police and they question her and she denies it, they’ll have no choice but to leave it alone. You know her dad will find out, and, if we’re right, it will make things that much worse for her. Tell you what, you two stay here for today, by the sound of it, she's in no condition to sit through classes today. When I get home, we’ll talk about this more.”

 

Edward gets up from the table and grabs the keys to his SUV. He heads out the door, off to work. After Evan hears his vehicle start up and drive off, he gets out of his chair and heads back downstairs. He sits down in the chair next to his desk, turning to look at Amy. He props his feet up on the desk and leans back in the chair. He closes his eyes and is asleep minutes later.