What Happened on Wednesday

Part Eleven

Deciding to move was the best decision I had ever made. I emailed all of my teachers and Mrs. Mirum's response had me in tears. Apparently, she is still sick from the vaccine, which she had been for a while now.

"Oh, wow! I am so sorry I will not be able to tell you goodbye in person but I am excited about your new adventure. Sometimes a bit of a change is just what is needed. Please let me know how you are doing and take care."

I am going to miss her. I am going to miss all of my teachers. Anything else I am going to miss? No. Not at all. And with the newest installment of the Elizabeth Saga, she got a new boyfriend. I feel like I just got played. But of course, that didn't matter. I didn't feel that huge connection, I just felt a fling.

I felt like my life had gone back to shit, but this time I could do something about it. There was nothing stopping me from jumping in the passenger seat of my mother's red Chevy Impala that smelled like cupcakes and vanilla sugar cookies with a hint of cigarette smoke, and never come back to Missouri, not looking in the rear view mirror the entire four and a half hour drive away from there. I would, of course, come back to visit, but I never wanted to set foot in that high school in Queen City again. At least, not as a student. My dream to come back to the black hole as a teacher remained. I wanted to be like Mrs. C. and Mrs. Mirum. I wanted to be the teacher that helped the students that do not quite fit in. I never had someone to look up to, I had my teachers.

My teachers were the best things about this horrible school. They were always supportive and accepting of every little thing I did, and for that I couldn't help but look up to them. Whenever I felt alone, or felt like Oliver was winning the battle against my own head, I would have no problem coming to one of seven of my wonderful teachers, and each of them would be willing to get me out of the headspace that I was in. Being it was such a small school, each teacher knew my story, and each one wanted to help in any way they could.

I admire teachers. They have this ability to inspire someone and I love seeing that. I look around my classroom frequently and see, of course, over half of my peers with their heads down fast asleep, being that they were too busy last night playing Fortnite or Call of Duty. I never understood the great deal that came with playing video games. I just did not see the joy in staring at a screen for hours on end. I could do it if I tried, but I guess I just didn't have the attention span to play one.

My last day of Schuyler County was all I could want and more. It was a beautiful, sunny day, especially for March. It was Friday the 26th, and I was so excited to leave this place and never see it again. It was a warm day for a March day in Missouri, mother nature's bipolar part of the brain. I walked into the building that day with a Monster energy drink stolen from my father to enjoy for the day, as it was my last day and I wanted to break at least one rule to shove it in Mr. Storme's face that I was getting out of here, and he no longer had control of me.

I saw moving away as an opportunity to fully escape Oliver's grasp. No longer would I have to sleep in the same house that he did terrible things in. No longer would I have to sit in the classrooms that we sat next to each other in, the ones where when the lights were off, he would touch me in places I hadn't discovered myself yet. No longer would I have to fear that someday, he would move back to Downing. No longer would I walk around my hometown with fear in the back of my mind, thinking that any man would grab me by the neck and do the same things that Oliver did, either in my dreams or what he did in my basement.

No longer would I live in the house up the hill from where he lived, walking distance from me, twelve years old, and terrified. Now, I am fifteen, still scared, but stronger. It had been three years. Yet three years later, I never set foot outside alone. I never walked out the door without someone unless I was only going down the road. Never again did I wear jeans that showed any of my curves, and I wore mostly long sleeves. I constantly wore layers, in my mind it scared people away. Even made me less attractive. If I thought I looked good, I would change clothes. I wanted to be as unattractive to people as possible.