I shrug her hand away, and mumble, “I rather not.”
“Please,” she urges. “I want to make sure you are alright and there is no damage. Does your throat hurt?” I nod my head reluctantly. “Then we should get it looked at. Will you do that?”
“Do it for me,” Jeremy pleads, leaning over on the back of the couch. “I need to know you are okay.”
With a heavy sigh, I say, “Okay.”
“Why don’t you get dressed and then we will go to the police station,” Jeremy urges.
My heart feels heavy in my chest, but I get up. Cassandra stands with me. “I brought you a tooth brush and clothes. Here you go.” She hands me the bag.
“Thank you,” I mutter softly. Taking the bag, I head into the bathroom. When I get in there, I just look in the mirror. I gasp as I look at my neck. There is a large bruise across the middle of my throat. You can actually see where his fingers were. The darkest bruising is there. It makes me cry. I fall to the floor and cry. It’s too much. It’s too much to take. I put my head between my knees and sob.
What am I going to do? How am I going to hide that? I can’t go to school with that mark on my neck. Everyone will see it. People will ask questions that I don’t want to answer. I can’t go back.
There is a knock on the door. “Isabelle,” Jeremy articulates softly through the door. “Are you okay? I hear you crying.”
“Yeah, I just, I saw the bruising. It’s so bad.”
“I know sweetie. We need you to get dressed, so we can go to the police station. They will need to take pictures.” That makes me cry harder. “Do you want Cassandra to come help you?”
Shaking my head, I yell, “No! I am fine.”
“Okay,” Jeremy replies.
I get up off the floor and try to not look in the mirror. Cassandra brought me a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeved t-shirt. It must be cool outside, because there is a thick hoodie, too. Slowly, I get dressed. When I am done, I reluctantly look in the mirror. I grimace. My hair is a disaster area, even with Jeremy combing it. I realize that my hair is not something that should even be on my radar, but I do look a little crazy. I feel bad enough already.
When I open the door, I ask Jeremy, “Do you have a hat I could wear?”
“No, not really,” he replies. “I hate hats, but wait, I do have a bandana. You can put that on your head.” Jeremy walks into the bedroom and comes back out with a black one. He folds it in half.
“I can do it,” I say, gently taking it from him. I wrap it around my head and knot it.
Jeremy smirks. “You actually look cute.”
“Thanks,” I mumble sarcastically. “We should probably go.”
He takes my hand and says, “Okay, we are ready.”
The ride down to the police station is a quiet one. I don’t think anyone has any words to actually say. The station is really busy. We have to wait a while for someone to come talk to us. Finally, a lady comes up. “Isabelle?”
“Yeah,” I reply, standing up. “That’s me.”
“You can come back now,” she says, gesturing to the doorway.
Quickly, I look at Jeremy. He asks, “Do you want me to come with?” I nod vigorously. He looks at the police officer. “Is that alright?”
“Sure,” she answers. “Whatever makes Miss Nimon more comfortable.”
Jeremy takes my hand and squeezes it. With that we walk back with the police officer. She ushers us into a room. It looks like an interrogation room, very cold. “You guys can take a seat there. My name is Officer Detrick. Now, I need you to tell me what happened exactly.”
With a little hesitation, I tell her the whole story. “He held me down here,” I finally say, showing my throat.
Officer Detrick looks at it. “My word child, I am so sorry. So, you have no idea what this gentleman’s last name is?”
“No,” I whisper, choking back tears. “My mom may know.”
“You haven’t asked her? Have you not been home?”
I look at Jeremy. He takes the initiative and answers, “Her mother is an alcoholic and is mentally abusive to Isabelle. When her mom came in and stopped Howard, she actually blamed Isabelle for it. I may be overstepping my bounds, but I refuse to let her go back there.”
“She is 18 and that is her choice,” Office Detrick replies. “We will have to talk to your mom though.”
“I don’t even know if she will remember anything. Is that going to be a problem?” I ask.
The officer points to my neck. “You have the bruising to back up your story. We just need to find out if your mom will cooperate and help us find this Howard character.”
“Good luck on that,” I mumble.
“Well, we will need to take a picture of your neck. Do you have any other bruising?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “No.”
“If we can’t get any information from your mother, we may have you come back in and do a sketching of the gentleman,” the officer states.
“Oh,” I exclaim. “I can do that.” The officer raises her eyebrow. “I can draw people very accurately. It will be easier for me to do it than describe it to someone.”
Humming herself, Officer Detrick says, “Well, it’s a little unorthodox, but if you can do that, it may help.”
“I will,” I retort, nodding dramatically.
“Let’s go take some pictures then. Did you go get checked out by a doctor?” She asks, as we walk.
I stutter, “Not yet, but we are going today.”
“Well, if you can get something from him, too, that will help.”
While they take the pictures, I feel totally exposed. Even though I have all my clothes on, I feel naked. Thankfully, Jeremy is there the whole time. I don’t know what I would do if he wasn’t here with me. I don’t know what I would do without him, period.
Cassandra stands up when we come back to the waiting room. “How did it go?”
“Fine,” Jeremy sighs. “We should get her to the doctor though.”
“I have it all set up,” she replies, tilting her phone. “My uncle is waiting for us.”
Her uncle, Dr. Phillips, won’t let Jeremy come back with me. He wants to give me a full exam. It is awkward and uncomfortable. Thankfully he is just looking at my skin. He sits me up and exams my throat. “Where does it hurt?”
“Just here,” I reply quietly, pointing to where Howard’s finger tips were.
“Well, I don’t think there is any permanent damage,” Dr. Phillips says, sitting down on his little stool. “There is just a lot of bruising. It is going to hurt for a while.”
Twiddling my fingers, I mutter , “I figured.”
“I think you should see someone else,” the nice doctor says. He pulls out a card. “Her name is Ivy Collins. She is a therapist.”
With a shocked look, I stutter, “No, I don’t need to see a therapist.”
“From what you have said about your past, I think it would be good for you.”
“I don’t deal well with talking to people,” I articulate. “I don’t talk to anyone.”
Dr. Phillips extends his hand. “Take the card and hold onto it. You may want to see her in the future.”
I grab it and mumble, “Thanks.”
“You can get dressed now. Don’t worry, I am not going to charge you.”
“I have no money as it is,” I whisper softly. The realization that I have nothing and no one just rips my heart open again. I am alone, so utterly alone. I place my face in my hands and start to cry.
The doctor just stands there. I can feel him looking at me. “Do you want me to get Cassandra?” I shake my head. “The gentleman with you?” Wiping my tears, I shrug my shoulders. “I will go get him,” the doctor says, patting my knee.
For a few minutes, I just sit and cry. I have nowhere to go. I can’t go home. What would I do? What would I say?
There is a knock on the door and then it opens. Jeremy looks around the corner and asks, “Are you okay?”
Choking on my w
ords, I sob, “No, not at all.”
“Are you hurt? Is there something seriously wrong?” Jeremy exclaims, closing the door.
I shake my head. “No, I just realized I have nothing. How am I supposed to go home? How will I ever feel safe in my own house? My own bed? I have no clue what I am going to do!”
Jeremy comes over and takes my hand. “I have already thought of that. You are going to move in with me.”
Hold on, what? “Are you nuts?” I snap.
“You can’t go home. I won’t let you go home. You need a place to stay. I have a spare bedroom and a bed, if we can unbury it.”
“Jeremy,” I moan. “I can’t move in with you.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Why not?”
Feeling very frustrated, I growl, “I just can’t.”
“Where are you going to go?” Jeremy asks, crossing his arms.
Not sure what to say to that. “I don’t know,” I finally whisper. Looking up at him, I say, “Jeremy, I adore you. You are MY best friend, but I have nothing to offer. I have no money, no job. I am still in school. What am I supposed to do, quit school? Get a job? I don’t know if I can do that!”
“You better not quit school! I would ream you a new one,” he replies, with a smirk. “Isabelle, I will take care of you.”
“Jeremy, I have nothing to offer you. You can’t take me in like some wayward child. I mean no offense, but you are part time bike mechanic. I am a teenage girl. How are you supposed to support me? I mean, I will get a job. I can do that. I just don’t think my mom will give me any money.”
Jeremy brings his finger up and puts it against my lips. “Just shush, okay? I am going to tell you something, but you have to promise two things. One, you can’t tell anyone what I tell you, two, you can’t ask any questions. Deal?” I nod my head slowly. He draws his hand back and takes a deep breath. “I have more than enough money to support you.”
“Jeremy,” I cry. “I need food and everything. You can’t afford to support another person!”
“Yes,” he replies. “Actually I can.”
Glaring at him, I ask, “How?”
“Nope, sorry, no questions. I will just say this, I have money. Actually, I have an obscene amount of money. I have never used it for anything. This, you, is what it was meant for. Please, let me help you Isabelle.”
My chest heaves as I look at him. I want to scream no. I don’t want to believe him, but as I look into his eyes, I see the sincerity in them. “I can’t do this to you Jeremy.”
He brings his hands up and puts them on the sides of my face. “You aren’t going to be doing anything to me, Isabelle. Let me take care of you. For once in your life, let someone take care of you.”
“You don’t know me,” I say softly.
“I know you very well actually. Just come home with me. Let me take care of you.”
I close my eyes and two salty droplets fall down my cheek. He brushes them away with his thumbs. It takes everything in me not to burst into tears. Suddenly, I feel him tilt my head up. I open my eyes, just in time to see him come forward. Jeremy gently kisses me on the lips. It is brief, but it makes me feel so much better. “Yes,” I finally whisper.
“Then let’s go home.”
Chapter 12
The ride back to Jeremy’s apartment, well I guess our apartment, is a quiet one. I took the back seat because I have a lot to think about. I just stare out the window at the passing world. Am I really doing this? Can I live with him? Turning I look at Jeremy. He is rubbing his temple. Won’t he get sick of me? What will I do if he suddenly doesn’t want me there anymore?
Jeremy looks in the review mirror at me. I quickly avert my gaze. I am so scared. I am scared to see my mom. I am scared to go back to school. I am scared of the world. The only thing that makes me feel safe is Jeremy. Is that healthy? Am I too attached to him? What am I going to do when he gets a girlfriend? I will no longer have him around and be alone again. A tear falls down my face and I quickly wipe it away. This hollowness in my chest is overwhelming. I just want to disappear from this world.
“Izzy, I am going to call Josh,” Jeremy says from the front seat.
I instantly sit up. “You can’t tell him! No, please! I don’t want anyone to know!”
“I am not going to tell him hon. We need to get your stuff out of your mom’s house as soon as possible. His brother has a truck. He also can get boxes from work,” Jeremy explains softly.
“I don’t know what my mom will let me take. She can get really angry,” I whisper, looking back out the window.
Cassandra turns around. “When does she work normally?”
“9-4,” I reply.
Taking out his cell phone, Jeremy says, “Then we will do it at eleven. That will leave us enough time, and she can kiss my…butt. You will take what you want. What is she going to do, call the police? It’s your stuff.”
“She probably will,” I grumble. “I just want my art, clothes, mp3 player and shoes. She can have the computer and everything. Do I need to take the furniture?”
“No,” Jeremy replies. “We will get you what you need. There is a closet in the bedroom.”
More of him buying me stuff, how long will that last? “Jeremy,” I sigh. “You don’t need to do this. You will get sick of me sooner or later. Then I will have to go back.”
Since we are at a stop light, Jeremy turns around and looks at me. “Will you please stop!? I am not going to kick you out one day. If you get annoying I will just lock you in your room.”
That makes me smirk. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he retorts. “Now, I am going to call Josh.” He scrolls through his list and then presses what has to be Josh’s name. There is silence for a few seconds. “Hey, it’s me. I need your help, but you can’t ask questions.” There is a pause and then Jeremy sternly says, “Josh, I am dead serious. This isn’t a joke. I need you to get your brother’s truck tomorrow and some boxes from work. We need to get Isabelle out of her house ASAP. I am going to have Cassandra ask Kent to help, too.”
“I will text him right now,” Cassandra whispers.
Jeremy nods his head. “What? Well, she is alive, but that’s all you need to know. Please, don’t ask any questions. We just need to get her stuff over to my apartment, and when you see her, just leave her be, alright?” There is silence as Josh talks. “Alright, meet us over at her house at eleven. Do you remember where it is? Good. We will see you then, bye.”
The glass is cold as I lay my head on the window. I am so tired, so utterly warn out. I feel tears run down my face, and I didn’t even realize I was crying. Will the tears ever stop? Will the pain ever stop? My mind starts to draw a blank, as the emptiness takes over.
A little while later, I feel arms wrap around me and pick me up. My eyes flutter open and I see Jeremy. He is lifting me out of the car. “I fell asleep again? I am no longer allowed to sit in your back seat.”
“Isabelle, just rest. You have been through enough. Just close your eyes and sleep. I have you,” Jeremy gently whispers. I just nod my head and go back to sleep. I feel him actually lay me down on his bed. Why am I so exhausted? I can’t even open my eyes. Jeremy carefully takes off my shoes and slides my legs under the blanket. It isn’t long before I am, again, fast asleep.
When I finally wake up, I see that the sun is almost set. I climb out of bed and shiver. It’s cold. I grab the throw blanket off the chair and wrap it around myself. Walking out into the hallway, I see that the only light on is the one over the table. Jeremy is sitting there with a beer, twirling it around. “Hey,” I cautiously say.
He turns and looks at me. “How do you feel?”
“A little better now that I rested,” I reply. Dragging part of the blanket behind me, I walk over to the table. Jeremy stands up and pulls out a chair for me. “How chivalrous.”
“Hey, I have excellent manners,” he mutters quietly.
I sit down and pull the blanket closer around me. “Drinking I see.”
Giving him a look, I snap, “Really? One, I am underage. Two, why would I ever want to drink?”
“Good point,” he mumbles, sitting back down. He stares at the table and starts picking at a spot.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
Jeremy’s eyes look up at me and they hold so much sadness. “I feel so guilty.”
“About what?” I ask.
“That,” he starts. Taking a deep breath, Jeremy whispers, “I should have been there to protect you.”
A snort comes out of me. “You were supposed to be in my room at the exact point in time?”
“No, I knew you found that guy creepy. If I had checked in on you and you had told me that he was there. I would have done something. I didn’t like it the first night he was there.”
“Jeremy.” I reach over and take his hand. “You can’t protect me from everything. I am not your responsibility.”
He looks at me thoughtfully. “But I feel as though you are. I have this urge to protect you from the world. I have felt it since the first time we met.”
“The best moment of my life so far,” I giggle. “That was epic. The look on Sonya’s face was priceless. You saved me that day, and many days since then, but you can’t protect me from the world Jeremy, as much as you may want to.”
Jeremy hangs his head. “This shouldn’t have happened. I could have done something. I should have gotten you out of there sooner. I thought about it, but it didn’t seem pertinent at the time.”
With my eyebrows raised, I ask, “You thought about me moving out before?”
“Yeah,” he replies. “You weren’t happy and your mom was not a very good role model. I just felt like you needed to be given more in life.”
That shuts me up quickly. He was thinking what!? Who is he? Why would he want to do that for me? I can’t help but to sit there and stare at him. His hair has grown a little and is falling into his eyes. For some reason, all I can think about is how great he looks right now. His chocolate brown eyes look up at me, through his perfect lashes. My chest tightens a little and it’s as if the world slows down. We kind of just stare at each other for a while. Neither of us moving, or saying anything.
The Art of Life Page 20