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Jesus Saved Me
It had happened again. He had slapped her so hard this time that both her eyes
were black and swollen. The night before, her father had been drinking and
wanted Allison to make him a sandwich. He hollered from his recliner, “Hey, you
little brat make me a sandwich.”
“Dad, I have to do my homework. It’s almost ten and I have two subjects left.”
That was all it took, he was in her room and had hit her so hard it flung her on
her bedroom floor. The blow hurt, but she knew by now not to get up, until he
had left the room. As her father stood over her saying, “Come on brat, don’t
cry. I told you to make me a sandwich, don’t you know by now to do what I tell
you?” Allison was holding her breath, and holding in tears that stung her eyes.
Tears that needed to fall, that needed to be seen, but she knew her only hope
was Jesus. ‘If only I had made him the sandwich’, was all she thought as she
crawled to the side of her bed.
A small statue of Jesus stood on her nightstand. Her mother had given it to her
before she had died. “If you ever need someone to talk too, talk to Jesus, he
will answer all your prayers and never hurt you.” her Mother stated.
Her mother had been Allison’s rock, her best friend. Allison used to set with
her and read stories, stories that would last all afternoon. She would watch her
mother, study her every move and become lost in her smell. The smell of sweet
perfume and medicine, and realize that nothing else mattered, but her mother at
Worries and Time that is what neither one of them could escape from. Her mother
had developed a brain tumor when Allison was only seven, and didn’t have much
time. It was Allison’s eighth birthday, instead of celebrating; Allison was
attending her Mother’s funeral. Anger, Sorrow, and helplessness, was all she
felt. Her mother had left her, left her in a cruel, harsh world. She had left
her with an abusive, alcoholic father, that didn’t love her, but only wanted her
as his slave.
Snapping back into reality, Allison lifted herself off the floor, and ran to the
bathroom. Her hair was disheveled, her nose bleeding, and her eyes were
swelling. “Why does he have to be like this, why does he have to hurt me?”
Allison wondered, as tears streamed down her beaten face.
The next morning, Allison could barely peel her eyes open. The swelling had
intensified and her eyes were black as coal. Black as the darkest night, with
pain that shot through her eyes to the back of her head, making her have one of
the worst headaches she’d ever had.
Allison quietly put bread in the toaster, careful not to make too much noise.
Pouring herself a glass of juice, Allison was pondering the idea of going to
school. She was sure the teachers had an idea of her father’s abuse. They had
too. She wore long sleeve shirts in summer to cover her bruises, and always wore
pants. Even when it was 100 degrees outside, Allison wore pants hiding the
bruises from her father’s fury. He had never hit her on the face before, and she
wasn’t sure what to do. Should she go to school and face the teachers? Should
she stay home and wait for the bruises to go away? Just then her toast popped
up, scaring her to death. Looking around, she made sure the toaster hadn’t
wakened her father. Breathing a sigh of relief, she ate her toast in the quiet
of the kitchen. Quietness, that crept to the back of her neck and ran down her
spine. Silence that could break a person’s spirit, but gave Allison hope.
Hope, that if she went to school they would help her. Help her escape into
another life. A life that would leave her with smiles and happiness, happiness
that would let her believe again. A life that would let her believe, that
someone really cared for her the way her mother had. Thinking of her mother,
Allison had to choke back tears and run for school. She had to run away from her
house as fast as she could run. Run away from anger, darkness, and helplessness
that seemed to swallow her.
School was three blocks away, and as Allison ran she knew today was the day, she
was running towards her freedom. Away from an abusive, alcoholic father who
didn’t love her, to a new life. A life where she would be loved, and would be
able to love. Walking into school, she could feel the stares dig into the back
of her skull, could see the pity on the kid’s faces. About to open her classroom
door, her principal grabbed her arm and pulled Allison into her office.
“Allison, what happened to you? Did your father hit you?” The principal asked.
Her principal tried to search for answers in the young girl’s eyes. Eyes that
only held sadness, sadness that seemed to penetrate to the core of Allison.
Allison sat quietly, wondering if she should tell her principal the truth or
make up a lie. Realizing that this was her ticket out, Allison did the
unthinkable. “Yes, my father hit me, he has been hitting me, and I can’t take it
anymore. Will you help me?” Allison pleaded.
Tears came to the principal’s eyes, as she reached for Allison. Hugging her was
all she could think of at the moment, but then mustered, “Yes Dear, we will help
you and were going to help you right now.”
Reaching for her phone, the principal called the Health and Human services
office. She told them, “To send someone over right away, we have a situation.”
The principal left the office, and Allison was left alone. Left to ponder her
thoughts. Should she have really come to school today? What was going to happen?
What were the social services going to do? Millions of questions raced through
her mind, as the door swung open. A lady with round glasses and a pretty face
entered the room. Allison was scared, but knew in her heart she had done the
right thing. Hours later, after the lady had drilled her with tons of questions,
Allison was told from her, “Allison we’re taking you away from your Father. Lets
go grab your things at your house.”
Pulling up to the drive, Allison looked for her father’s car and knew he was
home. The kind lady accompanied her to the house, and informed Allison’s Dad of
the situation. Her father didn’t flinch, didn’t care, he didn’t love her; she
was a burden to him.
Allison stuffed some clothes and personal belongings in her suitcase. Ready to
walk out the door, she quickly went to her nightstand and grabbed Jesus. She
knew without him that she wouldn’t have made it this far in her life, and now
with Jesus by her side she was going to succeed. She was going to have the best
life she could have, and Jesus would help her and never hurt her.
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