The light to my darkness

Chapter 8

"Angela, you stay please" Mrs. Heavenly asks.

The bell rang and everyone is gathering their stuff and heading for the next class while I stand there facing our teacher, waiting for them to leave and for her to speak. I gave her the words I wrote right after I finished. She read them almost right away.

When the last student leaves, she pulls me into a hug. She tightens her grip of me and says "I love you too".

She's hugging me.

She's hugging me.

She's not just hugging me, but she's holding me.

She's holding me.

I hug her back and we stay like this for several minutes. I've never felt safer.

She plays with my hair and whispers in my ear "I'll help you. I'll get you out of this situation. I'll help you heal your trauma. I promise you that, my angel". She holds me even tighter. I can't help but let out a small sob. She then holds my face and wipes my tears.

"Do you have class?" she asks.

I nod.

"Do you want to go, or stay with me? Is your mom here? I can talk to her and tell her I need you to go with me somewhere"

"I want to stay with you. My mom is not here today"

"I'll give her a call then. Don't worry love, it's all going to be ok" she kisses my forehead and pulls me into her arms again.

I nod.

"Where are we going?"

We're in her car and we.ve been driving for a while now. She called my mom to let her know I was safe. My mother didn't really care as always.

"You'll see", she smiles at me.

My heart is hammering in my chest. This is the longest I've spent with her. It's hard to get words out of my throat. I always get nervous around her, but I'm getting more comfortable. I'm not as nervous as I was the first day we met at least, so that's some progress right there.

I guess.

I don't know.

The car finally stops, "we're here"

I look around to find the most satisfying view of the sea. I've lived in Isle of Palms, South Carolina for more than 8 years. We moved here when I was a kid. After it all happened...

Oh shit. Here we go again.

No.

It's not happening. I'm just going to enjoy this.

It's somewhat of a road on a small hill some feet above water. It's insanely beautiful.

"Wow", I whisper more to myself than to her.

"I know right, 'wow'. I come here every time I feel stressed out. It's my comfort place. It helps me relax and clear my mind.

"I've been to the beach so many times, but I've never been here. It's so calming", I mumble.

"I love coming here. And I love it more now that you're here. We should start coming here together more often. Coming to my comfort place with one of my comfort people sounds like the best idea ever".

I look at her with tears filling my eyes. I can't believe she just said that. Nobody has ever said something like that to me. I gaze out the window as I feel her hand on mine. She's gently rubbing her thumb along my skin. She put her other hand on my chin and turned my head away from the beautiful view I was facing to a much gorgeous one; her. She looked straight into my eyes and it felt like she was looking right through me; seeing my soul. She gently cups my cheek and says, "I'm here for you, ok? If you need anything at all, just let me know".

I nod.

"Now tell me, is it ok if I ask you questions about what happened?"

I shake my head, "I don't mind".

"How old were you when it happened?"

"9 or 10"

"Can you tell me what exactly happened?"

I remain silent for few minutes wondering whether or not I should remember those scenes. Growing up, I managed to put all those bad memories in a file and stock it at the back of my brain. I can't get it out of my head of course, but I manage to not get into details.

"For some reason, it felt like it was my fault. I was only a kid getting hit and tortured by my own father. I didn't have many friends back then. When kids saw my dirty clothes and bruises on my body sometimes, they avoided me. I never wore something pretty at school. My dad used to save those up for court days and or when my mom would visit. He never really washed my clothes, so I had to learn how to do that myself. I only took a shower when he would say I needed one. I always smelled bad. Kids at school used to make fun of me, and I hated him for that. I hated myself for that. At first, it was just a split up. My parents weren't legally separated yet. So, he only hit me and starved me. He mentally and emotionally destroyed me. But then, when my mother divorced him, he started going too far. He would bring his drunk friends over and they would..."

My heart started aching and tears streamed down my face as she held my hand in hers. She then wrapped her arms around me.

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that", she said with clear sincerity in her voice.