Vivid Victim

She glared severely at the fractured lines of her mirror. She watched as the crimson oozed out of her lower lip.

Skin black and bruised, limbs numb.

Pretence camouflaged her reality, wounds concealed under thick scarf's in summer. Words burnished with poignant deception.

“REMBE!” She flinched at the sound of her mispronounced name. “Rumbi”, she had stated earlier, dragging every syllable. His boisterous, obnoxious voice climbed up the narrow stair way.

Panic- stricken hands rushed to lock the door. She grabbed the splintered baseball bat her cousin left earlier.

Bang! Bang!

Because it wasn't her fault a man grabbed her bag as she strolled to the bank, stealing her ATM card.

Bang! Bang!

Because it wasn't her fault that an impaired, grouchy police officer confused her with another Hispanic anarchist down the crowded street.

Bang! Bang!

That Ashley had to pay for bail.

Bang!

And the rent was due.

Dad needed more pills.

Mother needed a Visa to visit.

Cousin wanted a brand new bat.

Silence

All she wanted was a life with a bow laced with tranquillity but all she heard was

BANG! BANG! BANG!!