Kennedy Stevens, a 26 year old Social Worker, had what you would call a hard life. At a young age she was a victim of abuse. Mental, Emotional and Physical. Never feeling good enough for her father, she felt trapped. Having to do everything her fath...
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The smell of alcohol was in the air. I could hear his breathing, it was heavy. I dared not to look up into those bloodshot eyes of my father.
"Your a dumb bitch," he spat. Spit hitting me on my forehead. "Just like your mother."
"You'll never amount to shit."
"You disgust me. No none will ever want some motherless bitch like you."
"Go make me something to eat. Burn it and I'll burn you."
"Kennedy...."
"Kennedy!"
"Mrs. Stevens!"
My eyes shot open. I looked around frantically, chest heaving up and down.
"Mrs. Stevens, are you okay?" I heard my assistant Michelle ask. Her voice was laced with concern. I looked over at her, I could see the tension in her eyes. I had fallen asleep in my office again, while on break.
"Michell, yes I'm fine. Can I help you with something?" I asked.
"Yes ma'am. Your two o'clock is here, Mr. Rodgers." She said laying his file on my desk.
"Okay, thank you. Tell him to give me a few minutes. And can you please get me a cup of coffee love?" I asked, looking at the clock above my office door. Sitting up in my chair I got myself together.
"Yes ma'am," smiling and closing the door behind herself.
Blowing a breath, my mind wondered to when I was just a little girl. I became a social worker because I wanted to be able to help people of abuse, how I wanted to be helped. Seeing children in need makes me strive so much more. One less abusive son a bitch, makes for a better community.
If I could help every victim in the world, it still wouldn't be enough.
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4:00 p.m. After Meeting
"I'm about to get out of here. See you Monday." I called out to Michelle.
"Yes ma'am, you have a great weekend."
Waving, I walked to the elevator pressing the down button. My phone chimed from a text from my best friend.
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