The Scars Within

Saving Me

Shortly after that night, Abel and I officially became a couple, much to the happiness of Ricca. We've only gone out on a couple of dates, but whenever I go to visit Ricca, Abel is there with her. As it turns out, Ricca and Jason just recently became a couple as well. I was pretty shocked, and Abel seemed about ready to kill Jason when he saw his arm around Ricca's waist, but in the end we both supported the relationship.

Currently, I'm at home, sitting in my room. I has just gotten back from work, so it was about 5:00 in the afternoon. Pay day was today, so, of course, Ricca and I planned a shopping trip to Jerrisville tomorrow. Since Abel is out of college for the summer, he wanted to come with us. Much to his chagrin, we said 'No.' Tomorrow is a girl's day, and we're going to enjoy it together.

As I'm thinking about tomorrow's shopping trip, I hear the front door slam open, then a second later slam shut. Moments later, there are heavy footsteps on the stairs. Before I can do anything, my Dad bursts into the room. It's obvious he's totally hammered. He's swaying slightly, his eyes are completely bloodshot, he reeks of alcohol, his clothes and hair are in complete disarray, and the most obvious reason is, he's holding a vodka bottle in his left hand.

"There you are you little skank." He growled out, glaring at me. He quickly makes his way towards where I'm sitting. Before I could move out of the way, I was grabbed by the collar of my shirt and pulled to my feet. Dad is inches from my face, and I can smell the strong alcohol on his breath. "You killed her. YOU KILLED MARY! My wife! You may have convinced the cops, but I still don't believe you. I know it was you. How did you convince the others, huh? You better not have used any of my money. Oh wait, you don't need money, do you? You have your body. Tell me, ya little whore, how many did you sleep with? Three? Four? Or was the Sheriff enough to convince the rest?" Squirming in his grip, I try to get free.

"I didn't sleep with anyone! They found conclusive evidence that Leon and Stacey did it! Why are you still blaming me?" He loosens his grip, but, before I can get away, he slaps me in the face. The sound reverberates through the room. Once I fall to the floor, he starts to kick me. It hurts, but I don't focus on the pain. The only thing running through my mind is the fact that the man I once called Dad, the man who took care of me, loved me, and cherished me, now believes I'm a whore that killed my mother. That thought alone hurts more than any physical abuse I could ever receive.

I don't know how much time has passed, but suddenly, the kicks stop. I look up just in time to see Abel tackle my Father to the floor. As I slowly sit up, Abel punches Dad in the face, knocking him out cold. Abel quickly walks over to my side, and gathers me into his arms. As he stands up, I wrap my arms around his neck, and rest my head on his shoulder. Once we get outside the house, Abel walks us to his car and places me in the passenger seat. After he walks around the car and gets in, I start to question him.

"Why did you come over Abel? I thought you had work today." Without looking at me, Abel starts the car and pulls onto the street.

"I got out early. The boss was sick so he sent us all home. The reason as to why I came over should be quite obvious Carmin. I saw your sad excuse of a Father from my room so I ran over. I wouldn't exactly be a good boyfriend if I just sat back and let that happen. What kind of a man does that anyway? How could he blame you for your Mother's death? The evidence obviously proved that you're innocent in all of it!" As Abel begins his rant, he pulls the car over to the side of the street and turns it off. Suddenly, his rant switches from English, to French. I may not know much French, but I know that he isn't saying very nice words. As his volume becomes louder, I start to think of a way to get him to shut up already. I mean, I appreciate the thought, but he just keeps talking. When hand motions come into play, I quickly grab his face and gently press my lips to his, effectively shutting him up. As I slowly pull away, I speak in a low whisper.

"Thank you." Those two words speak thousands. Not just a thanks for saving me, but a thanks for everything. Within those words is a story. Our story. Through all of the bull that's been going on lately, he's been there for me. At the beginning, I didn't notice it, but he was always there, watching out for me. After I say those words, the tension leaves Abel's body, and he smiles as he presses his forehead to mine.

"You're welcome, Carmin." We sit in silence for a few moments, before Abel turns back to the wheel and starts the car once again. "Let's go get some ice cream. I think I want to try your favorite. Sound good to you?" Abel asks, the grin I love so much on his face.

"Sounds perfect." After getting our ice cream, we ended up wasting the rest of the day, just hanging out together. Once it started to get dark out, Abel drove me home. After pulling into his driveway, he turned towards me and grabbed my hand with his.

"Okay Carmin. I know that this isn't exactly the best time to say this, but I figure, 'Why not?' I also know that you probably won't believe me, and that my ranting right now is making me sound completely stupid, and that we haven't been together very long as well. I should just shut up and say it. That would probably be best. Okay. Okay." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I love you, Carmin. I know that all of the 'experts' say that, at our age, it's lust and not love. I know that's not true for me. I love you Carmin. There's no two ways about it."

I look him in the eyes and smile softly at him. "I love you too Abel. And, just like you, I know it's not lust. It's love." Abel smiles back at me, and leans in. I do the same, and our lips meet for a sweet, slow kiss. After we pull apart, Abel walks me the small distance to the door. He opens the door for me, but doesn't leave. I know why the moment we enter the living room.

My Dad is sitting there with his head in his hands. When he hears us enter, he looks up. I notice that his eyes are red, but it's not from the alcohol. Okay, that might not be true. Some of it might be from the alcohol, but the rest is from the tears running down his cheeks. Abel tightly wraps his arm around my waist, and pulls me into his side, glaring at my Dad.

The moment my Dad stands from his place on the couch, Abel pulls me behind him and growls out, "Don't even think about it."