Natalie the Wolf

Please be There for Me

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Scott and I became best friends. Every time I came home from softball practice, Scott was always at the front of the door waiting for me. We would play with such creative imaginations and talk about random subjects.

But even though we were best friends, I felt it was much more than that.  

He never cared that his best friend was a girl, and the boys teased him relentlessly for it. But even though they did, he never faltered and continued to cherish our relationship.

Scott continued to impress me with his endless loyalty.

There was something about him that was different. Even though observant, my head could never tell what was so different about him than the other boys. Also, he knew so much about me, but I never knew anything about him.

He knew all about my home life, how mother and father constantly fought. He knew how they would badger me on and make the meanest comments about me. Stuff like, ‘You will never go anywhere in life.  We hate you, suffer suffer. We should have left you to die. Die. Die. Die.’

The strange thing was, I never told him anything about my home life. I would try my best to plaster a fake smile on my face and go about my day. Whenever Scott was with me though, my smile was genuine.  But somehow, he noticed.

It was strange, very strange.

When he was confronted about it by me, his demeanor changed and suddenly he became hostile. His excuse was that he overheard it, that we were too loud.

His answer made me alert. For I knew that mother and father never let others hear our conversations. Our walls were soundproof, and they always argued with me downstairs in the basement, where it was completely soundproof and where deep enough so people couldn’t hear you at all.

How torturous it was, being called into the cold dark basement. A basement where kids my age would be scared to go down into because they were afraid of ghosts and demons lurking in the shadows. Monsters that were not human.

My monsters were human, and they were real.

I cringed every time they called me into the basement, knowing I was in for a complete and utter process called humiliation. In other words, abuse.

The only way Scott would know about this was if he was in the house. Scott tried reassuring me, that he did hear us from outside. He didn’t do by any means to sneak in. In fact, he said he had great hearing.

Hearing like a dog.

The matter was becoming so pointless, I simply gave up trying to look for an answer from him. But he said this to me, “Natalie, I know. I can’t do anything about it right now, but I’ll take you as my bride one day and we’ll go far away from this place. You’ll be safe, and most of all happy. I will protect you.”

“Scott will you? Will you really? Take me away from this horrid place, my dad and mom are hitting me now. Look Scott, a bruise,” I pleaded. I lifted up my shirt and pointed near my belly button. A medium sized purple mark set on my stomach area. “Scott, take me away. Mommy and daddy are hurting me. It was because I didn’t want to do something they wanted me to do. It felt wrong.”

His eyes brimmed with hurt, and he grimaced. He held me in his arms and rubbed my back. It has been three years since we first met, and he was now taller than me by three inches. His hands were shaking and his fists clenched up. He quickly dropped his hands to his side, but again he held me. His hug was so strong, but it was tender.