The Comfort of No one

Chapter Four: Broken Souls

"Your friend Rachael" Dr. Salvador started to say "did she notice what was going on in your household?"
"No, not at first. I would tell her that Hope and I were clumsy people and whenever she saw Noah freaking out I would tell her he had anger issues." I answered
"When did she find out that all of this was going on for you?"
"It was during Hopes birthday weekend" I started to say "Hope was turning eleven on Friday and Rachael came and slept over that night to help set up for Hopes birthday party the next day. Noah told me he was going out with his friends but when he came home that night I realized that wasn't what he was doing."
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Rachael do you think the streamers would look better at this angle or that angle?" I asked Rachael while we were setting up for Hopes eleventh birthday party for the next day.
"Um" Rachael started to say "I actually think the streamers would look better over there and if you made them position in corners it would look nice." Rachael said
"Okay thanks Rachael."
Hope was in her room playing with the new tablet Noah bought her for her birthday. After me and Rachael were done setting up for Hopes party we called her into the living room to show her the decorations. Her eyes light up for the first time in a while. I could see my beautiful happy Hope again that has been hidden from her sadness created by her father.
"Thank you mommy and Rachael." she said "I'm so excited for my party tomorrow!"
"Good, you deserve it." Rachael said
Then all of a sudden we heard a big crash at the door that made us all jump.
"Oh my goodness!" I screamed. "What in the hell was that bang."
Then the door opened and there was Noah, all messed up on drugs again, and drunk to the point where he could barely walk.
"Noah what in the bloody hell are you doing coming home like that? You nearly gave us all a heart attack from that bang." I said
"Shut up you stupid bitch!" he screamed. "You're always complaining about everything I do, what about the shit you do?"
"What shit Noah? All I do is take care of Hope, make sure she is safe, healthy, and I try to make sure you're out of trouble and safe."
"No all you do is complain and not let me live how I want to live my life. I am stressed out Addison and all I want to be is happy. My mother ruined my whole childhood of happiness and now that I am not living in that hell, I can live freely and happy!"
"All you are doing Noah, is putting me and Hope through the same hell that you and Andrew went through!"
I swear my life flashed before my eyes. Noah swung at me with his cold achy hand and it wasn't one of those smacks where I'd get really hurt and wonder why the guy I love was hurting me. This smack was the most painful feeling I have ever encountered and I fell to the ground and my face smacked against the coffee table. Noah started to rip down all of the decorations Rachael and I spent time putting together and he took Hopes birthday cake and threw it away. Hope started bawling her eyes out and ran to her room. Rachael helped me up, brought me to Hopes room, and locked the door. At five o'clock in the morning Hope and I packed our things and Rachael drove us to her house. We stayed at Rachael's place for a few days and canceled Hopes party. We told all of Hopes friends that Hope is terribly sick and we unfortunately had to cancel her party. How could I tell anyone that we were canceling her party because her father was messed up on PCP and destroyed everything? I couldn't. Hope was miserable because her party was canceled but she had to get over it. She had to get over it like she always did when her father acted aggressive like that. That was how Hopes life had to be and it was slowly tearing her apart.
That was the same week that Hope's bullying began. Things were really rough on Hope so she kind of blended into the background. As you might know, kids are never nice to the girl in the background. She didn't have the nicest clothes due to our financial problems. All the money in the household went to bills, food, and PCP. It took a while for Hope to finally tell me what the problem was, why she was so mopey and depressed. She was 11 in the 6th grade, girls are mean and there were a few that seemed just above averagely cruel.
The two bullies that Hope faced in the sixth grade were Theresa and Brady-Anna. Theresa was the shit talker; the one who made up the rumors and spread them throughout the school. Brady was the fighter; she was a very violent young girl. Brady often resorted to pushing Hope around in the halls and tripping her. The teachers were no help in the matter. I didn't find out because a teacher called home, nor did I find out from Hope. One day she strolled home with a black eye and a bloody nose.
Brady was a tough one for being such a beauty, I worried for her sometimes. She grew up in the foster system moving from house to house. She was only here in Brooklyn for about two months before she moved on.
When Hope came home that day in such an awful condition I immediately called the school asking for an explanation.
"I'll talk to the girls tomorrow, but there is nothing I can do without solid evidence" the ridiculous principle said.
"What about my daughters fucking face?"
"Ma'am-"
No I am fucking done!" I cried.
The abuse from the girls at school continued, and so did the abuse at home. My biggest regret in life is not doing anything about it. I became so weak, so numb to everything around me. I no longer stood up for myself. Even worse, I no longer stood up for my daughter. The day that I stopped protecting her was the day I was no longer her mother I was just a women watching as a young girl that I was responsible for got her life ripped away.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________ "When did the abuse from the girls at school finally stop, when Brady left?" asked Dr. Salvador.
"No, there was always someone else around to torture her" I Replied.
"Do you resent these girls for doing this to your daughter?"
"I did at first; I wanted to rip all of the hair off of Brady's head. I actually wanted to for years, but I found out that they were all just broken souls in this world lost and alone like I was. Years later, a week after Brady's Eighteenth birthday, she killed herself. Slit her wrists and bled out on the bathroom floor. The poor girl just had no one who loved her." I answered.
"Sounds like another little girl that I have heard about."