He Saved Me

Chp 17

Mia's POV
     I was furious when Daddy left the room. I didn't know if I was more hurt or angry. I wanted Daddy to hold me like he always does. But instead he left me alone. He left me alone to deal with all my problems. Ughh I was angry with myself! I knew I pushed him away but I don't know how to deal with things like this. I was so mad.
     All I wanted to do was throw things around. But last time I did that, I had to pay a heavy price for it. Technically, I was still paying for it. So I decided throw my toys around. It's less chaotic than throwing lamps and furniture around. I took each barbie doll and threw it at the wall. Same with all my stuffed animals and little accessories Daddy bought for me.
     After I was done creating my blissful mess, hurt took over my anger. Tears kept rolling down my face. I was so angry with myself, with Daddy... with my old family. Why did they treat me so bad? What was so bad about me? If my own flesh and blood couldn't love me, how could THE Michael Jackson ever find it in his heart to do so?
     I guess I was having a long overdue mental breakdown. When all the excitement dies down and all you're left with are the scars of your past, you're bound to break down. I was feeling the pressures of wanting to fit in once again, just how I did in my old school. I wanted to be normal. But I also didn't know how to work out the pain and trauma my old family put me through. And I didn't know how to explain any of this to Daddy either. He probably hates me.
     My thoughts were interrupted with Grace knocking on my door. I asked her to come in. She came in with a first aid kit in her hands. I knew she was in here to help me with my bath and change my bandages. She looked around my room and then gave me a disappointed look. "Again Mia?" she questioned. I didn't answer. "Come with me," she said. I followed her into the bathroom without another word.
     I was frustrated that I needed someone to help me with my baths. I was almost 11 for God's sake! But doctors said I pretty much got the wind knocked out of me. I was prone to fainting or losing my balance. So I needed someone with me to watch after me and help me for a few weeks.
     When Grace scrubbed my ribs with the loofah, I felt instant pain. Although she was gentle, my bruises were still raw. It reminded me of all the horror my old family put me through. I was an emotional mess, not knowing how to manage them. I couldn't stop my tears. Grace noticed my tears and tried to console me. But nothing was working.
     "Ok baby lets get you out of this tub," Grace said. I was all dried and dressed in my new lavender pajamas. Grace brought the first aid kit towards me. She lifted my shirt and put on this ointment. I flinched and moved away, tears still streaming down my face. "Mia I need to put a new bandage on. Come on," she said.
     I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want her to look at my bruises and my scars. Although shes seen them several times by now, I wasn't feeling comfortable at the moment. I saw the expression on her face every time she changed my bandages. It was a look of sympathy, pain, shock, disgust, all rolled into one. The look on her face just made me want to disappear.
     As Grace tried to lift my shirt again, I smacked her hand away. Her eyes got big and her expression went from soft to angry. "Mia! Do you want me to call your father?" she threatened. Honestly, that's exactly what I wanted. I wasn't gonna come out and say it. But I wanted Daddy to come hold me. I wanted him to hug me and make me feel like everything is gonna be ok.
     I couldn't get any words out. I curled up into a ball on my bed and kept crying. Eventually Grace gave up and left the room. Once again I was left to deal with my pain all on my own. I didn't even know what to call how I was feeling. I've never felt like this before. I wanted Daddy comfort me just as much as I wanted him to leave me alone. I wanted to be a member of this family just as much as I thought I didn't deserve to be.
     As my rapid breathing took on a pattern, my tears clouded my vision. I was an absolute mess. Just then, as if God had answered my prayers, someone knocked on my door. I didn't answer but the door opened. Only one person I know feels free to knock and enter without permission. Daddy popped his head in and right away my crying got worse. I knew he was gonna be hurt seeing me like this. I felt like such a horrible daughter.