Save Me From the Dark

by Edward, Réna

  It is about two in the morning when I finish all my homework. Placing everything back in my book bag, I turn my monitor on to shut down my computer. There is a message left from AJ that astounds me.

  AJ: You haven’t replied and that has me worried. If what I said offended you…well I can’t apologize for it. I meant every word I said. As time passes, I don’t think about the fact that I haven’t seen your face. I don’t need to. I’ve seen your heart. For me, that’s all I need to see. I miss you already and hope to hear from you soon. Hugs, AJ

  It is still unbelievable to me that there’s someone out there that cares about me like that. Am I reading too much into his words? Maybe he’s not meaning it in the romantic sense like I so badly want to take it as. Sighing, I type out a reply.

  Bella: I’m sorry I didn’t reply sooner. My dad came in and I was side tracked before I knew it was eleven. I had to get my homework done, just turned on my monitor to shut it down and saw you wrote. To be honest with you, I’m not sure how to take your messages. I don’t mean that rude either. I just don’t want to hope for something that isn’t there. I’ve been let down too much already. I don’t want to be again…especially not by you. Goodnight, AJ. Hugs, Bella

  Just as I hit sign out, he wrote, but it was too late to see it. I will just read it tomorrow. I’m tired and I need at least a few hours of sleep. Climbing into bed, I look up at my picture of Ace. For the first time, I wish I knew what AJ looks like. My dreams would be much better with his face rather than the face of a man that doesn’t even know I exist. Closing my eyes, I fall into a restless sleep.

  The morning arrives far too early for my liking today. I am just in a foul mood. Climbing in the shower, I need to get the dried blood from my hair. Once I’m dressed, I head downstairs to the kitchen. Shocked to find my father still awake, I scream in fright.

  “What are you coming into my kitchen for?” He hisses.

  “I was getting breakfast,” I say nervously.

  He throws a banana at me. “There’s your breakfast now get out.”

  Taking what I can get, as usual, I run out the door to my car. Once I’m a little bit away, I check my wallet to see how much money I have. No, I can’t spend it on food. I need to look presentable for the concert and I don’t have much money.

  For money, I write papers for kids at school. Of course, they don’t know it’s me. At the beginning of every school year, I put flyers into lockers with instructions. It may not be the best way to earn money, helping others cheat, but it’s the only way I can. If I didn’t do this, I’d have no shampoo, soap, clothes, nothing. My father certainly never got anything for me.

  Arriving at school, I brace myself for the day I’m about to have. Seeing my father so early in the morning could only mean bad news for the day. Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I clutch my planner to my chest, and keep my head down as I head inside.

  I rarely use my locker. Frankly, it’s a safety mechanism for me. If I need to leave quickly, stopping at my locker to get my things is unnecessary time to take. My locker holds all my extra school supplies for the year. Today, I have to stop at my locker to get a couple of notebooks.

  Just as I reach in to grab them, the locker door is pushed shut on my hand. I cry out and drop my planner to the floor. Bending down to collect my planner, the locker door hits me in the head. Biting my lower lip, I grab my planner then grab my notebooks closing my locker and turn to leave.

  I head to the bathroom to see if there are any visible marks. Looking at my reflection only breaks me a little more. There is a lump already forming on the left side of my forehead, partly in the hairline. A little blood trickles down from the knot there. Reaching for some paper towels, I dab away the blood. Digging in my backpack, I pull out some Neosporin and a Band-Aid. Sadly, I carry a whole first aid kit in my book bag because accidents like this happen more often than I like them too. Dressing the cut, I begin to look at my hand. The purple hue that it is already taking on makes me wonder if they actually broke something. Testing my fingers and making a fist, though painful, I can tell nothing is broken.

  I may not be a doctor, but I have had more injuries than one person should ever endure, that I’m familiar with the signs. Walking into one of the stalls, I sit on the toilet and let the silent tears fall. Everything was getting to me more and more. Every day, I deal with their taunts, abuse, shunning, but lately – since I met AJ – it’s been hitting home more how alone I am. It never bothered me before now. Then again, I’ve never had someone that seems to genuinely care about me. It is because of that attention that I realize exactly how far I’ve fallen. There is no picking me back up. Why should I? Just to keep giving them a target to shoot?

  Pulling myself together, I walk out of the bathroom and start toward my first class. I’m babying my hand a little, but it’ll get better. They always do. I think what bothers me most about the abuse at school is that it doesn’t just come from the students. The teachers – some of the teachers – are the same way. Even the ones that don’t dish it out are just as guilty as the ones that do because no one does anything to stop it. One teacher even said to me that I’m taking focus off other kids. That is the reasoning behind not stopping it. I gave up hope a long time ago that someone would stop it all. That is like believing in the tooth fairy or winning the lottery.

  Mr. Angler has already began teaching when I walk into the room. He stops mid-sentence and stares at me as I walk to my seat on the far wall by the window.

  “Well, Ms. Careless, I thought we were breathing easier today. So, again, class, here is what assume means. It makes an ass out of you and me.” The class laughs and Mr. Angler smiles at his own joke.

  Keeping my head down, I pull out my notebook to write down notes. Half way through Sociology, I’m called to the office. Fear lances through me like a sharp knife to a blade of grass. Collecting my belongings, I head out of the class. As scared as I am for why I am being called to the office, I am also relieved to leave the class. Today everything is getting to me and I don’t like it.

  Walking into the office, I have to work hard to keep my feet moving. My father stands in the office with his hands in his pocket talking with the secretary. When the door clinks shut, he looks up at me. The disgust in his eyes is obvious before he plants on a smile he doesn’t mean and walks over to me.

  “How’s my girl today?”

  “Wh-what are you doing here?”

  “We’re going away for the week. They’re bringing in your work in a few minutes.”

  Forcing a smile on my face, “Great,” I say as light as I can manage through the terror that I know I’m about to face.

  Once my work is brought in, he guides me out of the office and out the front doors. When we are standing next to his car, he squeezes the back of my neck hard. Sucking in a breath, I wait for the threat that always follows the physical pain.

  “Get in your car, drive directly home, and go straight to your room. I’ll be there in an hour.”

  Pushing me forward, I walk to my car. With shaking hands, I unlock the door and climb in placing my bag and planner in the seat next to me. As I drive toward my definite beating, I try to contemplate what might have caused this weeklong torture. Nothing is coming to mind though. I’m always careful about everything I do. Maybe it’s getting caught going into the kitchen this morning. I’ll have to be extra careful from now on if that’s what it is.

  Hurrying to my room once I arrive, I shut the door. There is nothing I can do to prepare myself for what’s to come, so I do my normal thing. I start up my computer, pull out my books and start looking over my list of assignments. It is only when my messenger loads that I remember that AJ had written back as I was signing out.

  AJ: Bella, you can’t read more than what I have written there. I will not be a person that lets you down…as much as I can help it anyway. I can’t promise I’ll not ever make a mistake because I’m human we all make them, but I can tell you that if I tell you something…then I mean it. I mean
t what I said (and haven’t said). You mean a lot to me, a lot more than I thought you would in the beginning. I’m here for you. Don’t shut me out.

  Bella: Please stop. No good has ever come to my life. I can’t start believing it has now. I can’t. Since meeting you, all the things I’ve worked so hard to steel myself against hits home now. I can’t let the sadness, the loneliness in AJ. If I do that…If I let it all in…I’ll lose the fight.

  I hurry and hit send before I talk myself out of it. Tears course down my face. Everything that I have laid out before me is blurring in my sight now. What am I going to do? Walking away means a void – like I’ve never known before – will fill my soul. He’s become that important to me. Staying…staying means more vacations with daddy dearest.

  AJ: Bella, please don’t talk like that. You make it sound like you are fighting to stay alive. Life is tough, but when good comes in…it doesn’t seem so tough. Don’t walk away because you’re afraid of what is happening. Walk to me, Bella. Let’s see what we have.

  Bella: Like you told me earlier, you can’t read more than what is there. I’m trying, AJ. I am. I’m just not sure I’m strong enough for the battle ahead of me. If you knew…I just don’t know if I can continue on like this…

  Just as I hit send, the windows rattle from the slamming of the front door. I quickly shut the monitor off and then start on the first book I pull off the stack. Not really paying attention to what I’m reading, just trying to make it look like I’ve been doing my homework the whole time.

  The door bangs off the wall making it hit him as he walks in. He stops next to my chair and I wait for the smack. It is as if I could hear the ticking of the clock inside my head. Each second that passes and nothing happens sends a greater fear through me than ever before.

  “Get up,” he barks.

  Stumbling a bit, I stand on shaking legs in front of him. My heart is beating so fast that I swear you can see the thickened flood of blood that poured through my veins. I teeter back and forth a bit as the nerves take hold of me.

  “Look at me,” he growls darkly.

  Taking a deep breath, I look up at him and see a box in his hand. I don’t get the chance to read what was on it because he throws it in my face, knocking me on the floor. He kicks the box across the room, kneels down on my chest and repeatedly punches me in the face. My body sags limply. I stop fighting. The weight on my chest lifts and the door slams a few seconds later. I lay there and cry. The tears mix with the blood on my face hiding their presence. I cry until I pass out from the pain.

  Waking some time later, I groan as I roll over to pull myself up off the floor. My vision is as if I am seeing through blinders. I can’t see on either side of me. When I walk into the bathroom, I can see why. My eyes are swollen along with each side of my face. My mouth barely opens and hurts like hell as I try to move it. Reaching for a rag, I wet it and begin to clean my face the best I can.

  When I finish and see the stain on my floor, I reach under the sink, pull out the cleaning products and go about cleaning the floor. Scrubbing until my arms ache, I carry the cleaners back into the bathroom. It’s as I walk out of the bathroom that I tripped over something. Looking back, I focus my eyes and see the box that caused the whole beating, that I’m damn sure isn’t over yet.

  Pushing it under the bed with my foot, I climb into my bed and close my eyes. Reaching up, I turn on my favorite song by Ace Jergens. As the song starts to play, my heart begins to ache. Then my favorite part of the song came on. I sang it aloud, but quietly so I’m not heard by him.

  “The moon shines through the night, to give us strength to fight through the dark. Save ourselves with the sun’s bright light. Save me, moon.”

  The way Ace sings it, it’s like he knows the feeling of pain. Like he’s singing it right to me. This song brings another wave of sadness with it and tears flow down as the melody and lyrics fill me. Eventually, I fall asleep, but not for long.

  “Get your ass up!”

  Jerking up in the bed, I’m struggling to get my vision to hone in on what’s going on. Something hits my stomach and I lose all my breath. The urge to vomit brings me to my feet without registering what is going on. My feet are knocked out from under me. My back lands half on the bed with the rest of my body on the floor. When my eyes finally rest on what’s been hitting me, my breath stalls in my chest.

  Oh God! He’s brought out the bat again.

  No more did the thought cross my mind, than the bat connects with my stomach again. My stomach heaves as I curl into a ball. That doesn’t stop him. He swings the bat hitting me in the back causing me to arch out of the protective ball I’d curled myself into. Another blow to my stomach brings forth the vomit that had been lurking on the edge from the first hit.

  “Oh fuck! Damn you!” He yells as he swings the bat again connecting with my back again.

  The door locks only a few moments later. Pulling myself into the bathroom, I finish emptying my stomach and run a hot bath. After a few moments of sitting in the bath, the pain is down to a level I can tolerate. Wincing in pain as I move, I lift myself out of the water and slowly dress. Grabbing the cleaner again from below the sink, I walk slowly out to my bedroom. Sinking slowly to the floor, I scrub until I can’t scrub anymore, until the smell and evidence of yet another attack are no longer remaining.

  Once I stand, I’m out of breath. Sitting down on the bed, I wince at the jolts of pain shooting through my back. When I place my hands behind me, I feel another box. I cry. I need to find out what’s going on before it kills me.

  Moving slowly and carefully, I get down and pull out the first box. Once I see the writing on the front my heart stops. How could he do this to me? I told him! I told him damn it!

  Moving over to my desk, I turn on my monitor. Ignoring the message he’s already wrote. I type fast and I type angrily. The words a blur on the screen as the tears in my eyes build.

  Bella: How could you! How could you do that to me!

  AJ: Do what? Shouldn’t you be at school?

  Bella: I told you not to send me anything! I trusted you! I trusted you to honor me that one thing!

  AJ: I wanted you to have them. I thought they’d help you.

  Bella: Damn it! Do you have any idea what you’ve done! What you’ve just cost me!

  Bella: I’ve got to go. Don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me for a while. If at all again.

  I shut my monitor off, walk over to my bed and put the boxes under it. As I lay down on the bed, I stare up at the picture of Ace Jergens. And all I can think about is AJ, moreover his betrayal. That’s how it feels anyway. He betrayed me. When I gave him my address, it was so I could get in the limo for the concert. He promised he’d not use it to send me anything or come by. I remember his laugh and telling me it was a silly promise, but he’d do anything if it meant he got to meet me finally.

  Squeezing my eyes shut as tightly as I can, I pray to be taken away from it all. I pray for it all to be over. Honestly, I am at the end of my ropes. Ten years of beatings that are getting worse as time goes on, it’s getting too much for me to focus on my plan. My only light in the storm has just let me down. He promised he’d never let me down. Tears spill out of my eyes as I force myself to sleep.

  It is now Friday. I haven’t completed any of my homework. It is time to try to work. Maybe with all the extra beatings this week, he’d leave me alone this weekend. Praying that this will happen, I sit down gradually to work on my homework. My heart is aching with the emptiness I now feel with not talking to AJ all week.

  Saturday is here before I even thought about the boxes again. Walking over to my bed, I dig them out from under it and sit down in the center. Opening one box, I find a scientific calculator. The next box has graphing paper, several notebooks, and a message.

  My beautiful Bella,

  Please don’t be angry for me sending you these, but I thought they’d help with your Math and writing. You have a beautiful gift with words, don’t waste it. U
ntil we meet, I’ll dream of your heart, your voice, and especially your laugh.

  Hugs,

  AJ

  Tears fill my eyes. It’s school supplies. The laugh almost escapes, but I manage to keep it contained in body shaking silent laughter. As soon as the laughter ends, I go to my computer and I turn on the monitor. Not being able to bring myself to read his past messages, I type a message.

  Bella: AJ? Are you there?

  I wait for his reply for about an hour. When nothing comes, I type out a final message.

  Bella: I’m sorry for how I acted. When I made you make that promise, it was for a good reason and you said you understood. Yet, you still sent me not one, but two packages. When I wrote you…I wasn’t in a good place and that wasn’t fair to you. I’m sorry isn’t good enough. I’m sorry isn’t enough, but I’m sorry none the less. I understand why you aren’t responding. I’ll remember our time. My favorite song to listen to at night is called “Save Me, Moon” by Ace Jergens. There’s a line in one of the verses that makes me think of you.

  “The warrior in the dark that fights the shadows from closing in, my warrior of the light fights away the darkness of the night. My warrior, my strength. Oh, Save me, moon.”

  You were my warrior in the shadows. You will be even with you not here. You’ll always be here. Thank you for all you’ve given me. I won’t forget you. Thank you for everything my dear, dear…moon.

  Always thinking of you,

  Bella

  Hitting send, I turn off my computer unable to have the constant reminder of his departure. Instead of focusing on the pain that fills my every bone, I focus on my homework.