Save Me From the Dark (18 page)

Bella

Walking straight into the office, I walk up to the secretary. “I need to speak to Mrs. Waller, please.”

The secretary sits and stares at me for a long moment. It made me very uncomfortable, but honestly, I know it’s only going to get worse once the kids see me. So, I figure I need to get over it now and fast. Finally, she gets up and goes to the back to see if Mrs. Waller is busy.

My heart still aches for Ace. I’ve been tempted on more than one occasion to call him, but I’m afraid I’d give up on my plan and I can’t afford to do that. My life depends on me squaring all this away.

If at any point prior to meeting Ace, that I would have known it was going to come to this, I never would have met him that day. Not because my feelings would be different, but because I would have made sure that I had everything figured out before I met up with him.

Leaving Ace has to be the single hardest thing I’ve done. To walk away from him and not know when and if I’ll see him again… that kills me. If he decides to move on without me, I completely understand. He deserves to be happy. There’s no one else for me, but him.

But for right now, I’m focusing on one thing at a time. First things first, I need to get school squared away so I know that I’m not going to lose so close to the finish line. What sucks the most is that Christmas is only two weeks away. At least this time, I won’t be spending it locked in a room with my usual beatings. I’ll just spend the break working away on my school work. Though, I do want to see about making a present for Ace. If it all pans out, it’ll be stepping completely out of my comfort zone, but I think he’ll really like it.

“She will see you now.” The secretary’s voice breaks into my thoughts.

Walking the long hallway – that had portraits of all the past principles since the school opened as well as the Deans – my heart beats a million miles a minute because this moment determines how my future pans out. My hand starts to shake as I reach out and knock on the door.

“Come in,” comes Mrs. Waller’s muffled voice.

Out of habit, I walk in with my head down and take a seat in a chair in front of her desk.

“Mrs. Waller, I no longer have my books and was wondering if I can get replacement ones. I also was hoping I could still turn in last week’s homework – that I no longer have and will have to redo again – and turn it in for full credit. I have…”

Mrs. Waller cuts me short by saying, “Look at me, Bella.”

Stiffening, I knew that the secretary would tell her, but I still hate to be seen like this. It sucked that Ace had to see me like this. It’s not nearly as bad as it was Friday. Lifting my head, I square my shoulders. When I make eye contact with her and push my hair out of the way, I watch as the surprise, sadness, and yes, pity cross her face. Nothing pisses me off more than to see the pity in anyone’s eyes. Pity isn’t something I want from anyone, especially not someone that has made no efforts to stop the shit going on here.

“Bella, what happened to you? Is this from the accident while on the trip with your father?”

Accident?
That must have been the story that he told them in order to get out of school for that week and the week I missed after. Well, it is high time I stop hiding his mistakes. Nothing will change if I don’t make a stand now.

“I had no accident, Mrs. Waller. Unless you call my father beating the living daylights out of me for receiving a couple of packages of school supplies in the mail from a friend, or his constant beating because my birthday has come around and I get eighteen of whatever form of beating he decides to use – fists, feet, bats, books, whatever. If you call that all an accident, then yes, my father has been accidently beating me for the past ten years.” I use my fingers to make quotes around ‘accidently’ to prove a point.

Mrs. Waller sits there for several minutes before saying in just above a whisper, “All the times that you have been absent…”

And here she is putting the pieces together quickly. She’s thinking back to all the times I’ve missed school over the years, adding up how many days and how often. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting her to go that far, but I’m glad she did. So many years, I have lied to cover up my embarrassment, but I am done lying about everything. I’ve got far too much to lose by keeping it secret anymore.

“Yes, he didn’t want me coming to school and anyone seeing anything. He could only make up so many lies to the hospital and eventually he quit taking me. I don’t need any pity or sympathy. I just want to keep my grades at the best they can be and graduate in a month. I want away from here. Also, I don’t want him up here. So, if he asks for me I would appreciate him being told I haven’t been in. I’m staying at a nearby hotel – thanks to a friend – and he has no clue where I am. I left Friday and have not returned to the house since.”

Mrs. Waller starts to talk, but she chokes on her words. After clearing her throat, she tries again.

“You do realize that I’m obligated to call the police on the matter?”

“Well, I wasn’t no, but now that I know. You don’t need to bother. If they didn’t bother to do anything years ago when I had back to back ‘accidents’, they aren’t going to help now. However, if you must then you must, but I’m not going back in that house. If that is what I have to do then forget it. Do you understand me? I will
never
be trapped in that house again. To be locked in a room, beat ‘til I’m unconscious, barely fed anything… I’m never going back to that. Never!”

She clears her throat telling me that she’d never want to send me back there. While I wait in the office, she calls the police and explains to them what is going on. They arrive shortly later, take photos of my current injuries, took my statement about the last ten years of my life and left me with a business card. Honestly, I don’t foresee to see them again, but hell anymore I’m being surprised daily. So, who knows.

During the time the police were there, Mrs. Waller collected new books for me as well as written out a note saying I could complete all past work with full credit given. Honestly, I’m in a bit of shock that she’s doing all this. Considering all the abuse I’ve suffered here at school and nothing ever being done, why was she helping me now? Curiosity gets the better of me.

“Why are you being so helpful now?”

“What do you mean,” she looks up from her calendar, confused.

“Well, for years, mainly since my mom passed, I’ve suffered abuse here at school and nothing has ever been done. Hell, it’s even been from teachers. So, why are you being so helpful now? Is it because it’s all sitting in front of you wrapped up in a damaged box? After all these years of turning a blind eye to me, why now?”

She sets down the pen she is writing with and looks at me with a sigh. “To be honest, I don’t have an answer for that. No amounts of ‘I’m sorry’ will do any good either. I’m not going to insult you by making excuses, but I will tell you that from this day forward things will change.”

I snort. “Forgive me if I find that hard to believe. Change seems very hard for those too weak to stop the acts from happening to begin with.”

Mrs. Waller drops her head with a sigh. “Very wise words from such a young woman.”

“When you’ve had to grow up way faster than you age and you live through the things I have… You tend to be a bit wiser and more cautious than your years.”

“That’s very true.” She leans forward on her desk. “Listen, I know this is not even fair of me to ask, but I feel the need to anyway. Monday, next week, there will be an assembly where guest speakers talk about abuse and how they overcame it, what it did to them, how it changed, and so on. You are a shining example of how not to let anything stop you from achieving the goal you set forth for yourself.  Would you be willing to be a guest speaker during this assembly? I think you might be more helpful to others than the ‘adults’ that will be speaking of it from their past.”

“Sure. Whatever. Not that anyone will listen to me, but I’ll speak.”

Gathering my schoolbooks – that had been brought in while the police were there - I head out to my third period class.  There I sit in the back of the room – after giving my note to the teacher and being tripped and hit by several classmates – listening to the lecture.  It’s science, which is one of my favorite subjects.  The best thing about this class is that I really didn’t need to pay attention to the class to get an A, but truth be told I find it all interesting. 

The teacher, Mr. Spets, calls on me to answer a question about the weather.  While keeping my head down, I give my answer.  He counters my answer with another question. It is this simple distraction that is one of the reasons I love school so much. My mind isn’t focused on the pain or problems, just my studies. After a brief moment to think, I give a simple but sweet answer that had everyone laughing. Well, everyone except for Mr. Spets. 

“I do not see the humor in Miss Harris’ statement.  It could ring factual to many in the field, but there are areas for improvement in there as well.  If we ever stop improving then we stop learning.” 

Getting a thrill on the hidden praise in his statement, I make the mistake of looking up at him and giving him a small smile and nodding my head. 

              For a moment, I forgot who I was – classes did that, had me forgetting everything, but what I am learning – and about what a state my face was in. From the collected gasps from around the room and state of shock from the look of my teacher, I know everyone has seen.

Dropping my head quickly, I mumble an apology. There is a long stretch of silence. A silence I’m unable to handle. Slamming my books shut, I collect them and stand from my seat. Pushing my way out into the hallway, I hurry toward the exit. Once outside, I gasp for air.

Being the focus of attention, is not something I can handle. That’s part of the reason I ran from Ace. He has all those people surrounding him… I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to handle it.

“Ms. Harris?”

Jumping, I turn to find Hansen standing next to me. “You scared me,” I say holding my hand to my chest.

“I’m sorry. You scared me. To see you burst through the door like that. Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I just felt like I was suffocating in there for a moment. I’m not hiding my bruises any longer and everyone is looking at me. I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, Ms. Dawn has told me some of your story. That’s why I’m staying around school. That sorry excuse of a bastard will no longer be able to hurt you again.”

My heart swells at the kindness my newly self-appointed bodyguard is showing. “Thank you.” Something is bugging me though. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“You, uh, you aren’t upset to have to ‘protect’ me?”

Shaking his head without a moment’s pause, he looks me right in the eyes. “No ma’am. I consider it an honor to be able to protect someone that means so much to Ace. He’s an incredible guy. Actually, Dawn doesn’t know this, but he’s the reason I ever met Dawn to begin with. When she and Jarrett started seeing each other, he knew something was up with her and his gut told him she didn’t need to be alone. So, he made a phone call and I just showed up one day. You are in good hands regardless of what your brain is telling you. Listen to your heart because the brain has been hurt for too long to see the good that has come into your life.”

Looking down at the books still in my arms, a million things rush through my head. “Thank you Hansen. I’ll try and remember that. It’s just…”

“Bella Harris?”

Turning I’m face to face with the man that my father told me had a crush on me. Jumping back into Hansen, I swallow hard.

“Yes,” I question with a shaky voice.

My father on more than one occasion threatened to take me to his house and let him have me. From my understanding – if the google search was accurate – this man is a pedophile. Yet here he is at a high school, where kids are present. This is the kind of sadistic man my father is, to threaten his daughter with taking her to a deranged man’s house.

“I’ve not seen you for a few days. I came by to check on you,” he eyes Hansen.

Stepping closer, I can feel him tense when Hank steps closer to me. “I’m sorry, Sir, but can you back off before I make you back off?” Hansen threatens calmly.

Hank looks Hansen up and down, then smirks at me. “What’s with the muscle, honey?”

“To keep dirty pricks and her father away from her,” Hansen snaps.