Her Saviour

Abigail's P.O.V. Another Year begins... I'm so grateful that the vacations are finally over and I get to start school from today; the Blissful Senior Year. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a nerd and I don't love school, but it's much much better than my own house. At least school is bearable and up to some extent fun too, so I practically hate it less than I hate being at my own house. Just one year left of this miserable, awful life and then I can move out of this s**t hole known as my mother's house. The house is big, too much big for two people. Its a two storey house with four bedrooms, five bathrooms, a large living area and a modern kitchen which has a conjoined dining region; which is hardly ever used. It has a backyard with a swimming pool and a front lawn area. The patio has a wooden swing which is the only good thing about this place except for the roof which is accessible from my room's balcony. The only people living here is my mother and me, its not because my dad is dead or because he left us; its more like they got separated willingly. My parents got divorced when I was fourteen and according to me it was for good, I was the happiest when it happened; but soon it turned out to be a nightmare for me. My dad is the best person I have in my life, even after all these years of staying with my mother I just couldn't bring myself to hate him. My mother on the other side is Satan herself. She wasn't like this forever. When I was a kid, my parents were very much in love with each other and they loved me with all their heart. Dad used to take me and mother to the beach every other weekend, we used to go out for movies, family dinner nights, even camping once in a while; but there's a saying that, "Nothing lasts forever". They had been fighting a lot at that time, all the fights initiated by my mom over stupid topics. She had a problem with his sitting posture to his friendship with his office colleagues. It was just so messed up. *** Flashback starts *** I was fourteen when all hell break lose. One night I just couldn't sleep and kind of was craving some ice cream, so I made my way to the kitchen to grab myself a tub. Once I got my hands on the tub, I took a spoon from the drawer and made my way back to my room. Dad might have heard me shuffling around the house, so he being a caring and concerned parent knocked on my door. I knew it had to be one of my parents so I just responded with a, "Come in". He peeked inside my room and saw me hurdled up in my blanket, stuffing my face with ice cream, staring at the television screen watching re-runs of Gordon Ramsey's-To hell and back in 24 hours. When I saw his face, I beamed at him and asked, "Hey dad. What are you doing up so late?" he chuckled at my question and asked, "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that young lady?" It was and still is my dad's habit to call me out with different names, he hardly ever calls me by my name; well not unless and until I am in trouble. I giggled at his question and answered with "Couldn't sleep, so...." raising my eyebrows and pointing towards the TV, he understood what I wanted to say. "Well then I guess maybe I'll join you as I couldn't sleep either". Me and Dad, we were always close; I was his princess and he always made sure that I remembered it. We were having our father-daughter time and somewhere in between that I think I fell asleep, I vaguely remember Dad tucking me in, switching the TV off and leaving for his room. I had school next morning, so I woke up with the sound of my alarm blasting on. Getting ready for school, I made my way downstairs for breakfast; my mother was in the kitchen, cooking eggs and bacon. I greeted her, "Good Morning Mom" kissing her cheek; taking a plate, filled it with some food and grabbed a glass of orange juice and made my way towards the dining table. I was almost done with my breakfast when dad came and sat on the dining table, but not before pecking my head and greeting me with a, "Good Morning Pumpkin". I drank what was remaining of the orange juice and greeted back, "Morning Dad". I was making my way upstairs when my mother said, "Where do you think you're going slut?" I stopped mid-step and turned to look at her. Was she talking to me? Dad had his attention towards my mother as well, just like me. Before I could even respond, Dad asked, "What the hell is wrong with you Jane? That's our daughter you're talking to." She gave Dad a disgusted look and barked, "The same daughter whom you are f*****g behind my back, isn't it Nicholas?" Silence That's what greeted us after her disgusting statement. I walked towards her with tears pouring out of my eyes and asked, "Mum what are you talking about?" "Don't you dare talk to me you b***h. Tell me, how was it? Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy sleeping with your own father, that to right under my nose you filthy slag?" were her words, which were laced with venom as she slapped me right across my cheek. Dad was fuming at her actions, he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards himself; making her stand right in front of him, he asked, "Are you out of your f*****g mind Jane? What the hell is wrong with you? You are talking about our daughter you crazy woman." She scoffed him off and the banter went on and on and on, until I couldn't take it anymore. I went to my room, took my bag, came running down the stairs and left for school. I didn't pay attention to anything that day, I just couldn't. My friends kept on asking about what was bothering me but how was I supposed to tell them that my own mother's words were bothering me; the fact that she called me a slut, a filthy slag, a w***e and what not, was bothering me; her disgusted piercing glare which shred my soul into pieces was bothering me; her actions that ripped my heart out of me was bothering me. How was I supposed to say that? I didn't say a word to anyone, just attended my classes and when it was time to go home; I walked back home, with a really slow pace. By the time I reached home, they weren't fighting anymore but the atmosphere inside the house was quite thick. I quietly started walking towards the stairs, hoping that neither of them gets a hold of me today. But my wish was denied, when I heard Dad's voice; he was calling me out in a dejected voice. What the hell happened after I left? I slowly walk towards him, keeping quite a lot distance between us and responded, "Yes Dad". He was sitting on the couch with his head resting in his hands, he looked tired and broken, when he said, "There's something I need to tell you." I didn't say anything, just listened to him talk; when he realized I wasn't going to answer to that, he continued, "Your Mum and I are getting a divorce." "What?" was the only thing I said or more like asked. I wasn't going to convince him to do otherwise, because it wasn't my place to tell him that. If he took that decision, it must have been the only option to deal with the situation at hand. I know my father; and I also knew that he is not the kind of person who backs off when situation turns a little rough, instead he fights until he doesn't have any other option but to fall back and maybe Falling back was the only option. Listening to my question, he said "Yes sweetie. And please don't think it's your fault. Your mother has been behaving like this for quite some time now and I used to forgive her thinking it was due to her depressed state." Mother had suffered a miscarriage a few months back and since then she changed. She left her job at the school where she worked as a pre-school teacher and turned herself into a stay-at-home mom, she spent most of the time watching Telenovellas. Yeah, you heard me right, my mother is Spanish; so after her miscarriage she turned herself towards her roots but through the wrong way. Most of the shows had a bullshit story line, about affairs, murder within the family, sister cheating on her sister; that kind of crap. Dad and I always hated it, we even tried to convince her to go back to work and be productive. She got pissed at us for saying that and asked dad if he was incapable of feeding the three of us; whether that was the reason why he wanted her to work. My dad was, well still is a business man; he owns quite a few restaurants here as well as a few others in different cities. So money was always rolling in, hence our luxurious life. I was busy in my own thoughts about my mother's behavior when he spoke again, "The act that she pulled today is beyond repair; I don't think I can ever forget this, let alone forgive her for it and I know for a fact that neither can you. So I have decided to separate our ways. In fact, I already got the divorce papers signed and sent out for finalizing it. I'm going to move out of this house tomorrow." "But what about me? You can't just leave me here" I asked him, tears already pooling in my eyes. He gave me a small smile and said, "Of course I'm not leaving you with her sweetie. You can come with me, but only if you want." I nodded at his answer with a small smile and went running upstairs to my room to pack a few things for now; I could always come after a few days and take the remaining stuff, I thought to myself. I was busy packing when I heard my mother's voice at my bedroom door, "What do you think you're doing?" I didn't had it in me to turn towards her, I didn't wanted to face her; so I just replied while continuing my work, "I'm leaving with dad." "No you're not" was her harsh reply. I paused my work, turned towards her and spat out the same way as she did earlier, "I am and I will." She looked at me with some weird emotion floating in her eyes, I wondered what it is. Then she spoke making me feel disgusted by her, but more by myself, "Oh now I get it. You want to go, so that you could finally f**k him all you want without being worried about being caught by me huh?" I couldn't stop the tears flowing from my eyes. How can she think about her own daughter like that? How can she think about her own husband whom she very much loved, doing something like that? What has gotten into her? One moment she was throwing insults at me and the very next, Dad was standing behind her, pulling her by the arms outside and pushing her towards their bedroom. She started shouting at him, barking nasty things; soon I heard the door being slammed. I slumped down on the floor beside my bed, wrapping my head in between my legs with my arms folded around it; all I could do was cry. After a few minutes, Dad came barreling in my room slowly placing his arm on my shoulder, I felt disgusted; not by him but by his touch, by the thoughts that my mother put inside my brain, by the tainted image of my character in her eyes. I couldn't handle it and pushed him back, sliding away from him barking, "DON'T TOUCH ME." He was shocked at my state and he knew in that exact moment that I was never going to be the same daughter that he loved and cherished, because his own wife killed his princess, killed me; twice in a span of a single day. I saw hope leave his eyes as he sat a few feet away from me and said, "I'll get you out of here princess. I promise that I won't let you face her accusations anymore. Get your stuff, we'll leave tonight itself." When it was about time, I fell at ease with the thought that I don't have to listen to my mother's s**t anymore; but it was short-lived, when a police officer visited our house, just before we could leave. He had a notice in his hand as he spoke to my father. Dad called him inside and asked what was his reason for the visit at this time. He gave dad the envelope and said something that confirmed and worsened my miserable condition, "You can't take your daughter with you sir. Your wife had raised an appeal for her custody and since she is her mother and doesn't want any compensation whatsoever except for her daughter's custody, the judge has decided to give it to her." Dad was given visiting rights and I was allowed to stay at his place, any two weekends every month. I didn't have a say in it, since I was only a child and didn't know what was good for me; the notice said. I couldn't do anything or leave this house unless and until I turned eighteen. My mother had pulled some strings and added a clause that said, if I went missing before that my dad was to be blamed and arrested for the same; so basically I was screwed beyond repair. She was standing at the end of the stairs with a smirk latched on to her face; not just any smirk, it was a victory smirk, flaunting her win over us with her sly move. In that exact moment, I knew I had a very troubled life ahead. *** Flashback ends *** After that everything pretty much turned bad, the things that were already bad turned worse. She started beating me up for small stuff like if a glass fell from my hand, if I ate my food to fast, if I woke up with a nightmare, if I drank water from a bottle that was in the fridge. The list was long and the most annoying things were her insults, she used to call me, her own daughter who haven't even kissed a guy in her life, with ugly names; she didn't care if people were there around us or if my friends came over, she was always up with the insults. I had bruises and burn marks from her violent assaults, when Dad saw those he was pissed and warned her. He even told me to file a complaint against her, but then she said something that I was helpless. She said that if I did something like that, she will turn the proofs against dad and charge him for what she did to me; that shut me up. I did visit Dad every now and then but never stayed at this place, worried about what new I might listen if I did that, from none other than my mother. My dad added quite some money in my account every month, so money wasn't an issue for me. He even gifted me a car when I turned sixteen and a motorcycle last week as a senior year gift, a Honda VT 750 C Shadow; she is a beauty as well as my Jeep Sahara, both of them are. My parents went through, whatever s**t it was and dragged me through it as well. It turned me into who I am today, the bad girl of Bay-view High, one of the top high schools in Canada. I smoke, I drink, I fight, I vandalize property but I'm still an A grade student, who is the quarterback of the football team, part of the debate team, member of the science club and the one who has won a few awards in inter-collegiate cultural festival. Teachers know me for who I am, but no one dares to touch me because my dad is one of the board members and also because most of the time they don't have proof to prove me guilty. Even after all this, I talk to pretty much every one at school, the jocks, the nerds, the musicians and so on. But I have my own rules, FIVE rules to be exact; for others as well as for myself. My rules are pretty simple; One: Complete High school with top grade and move out of the s**t hole known as my house. Two: If they want to be my friends, they have to know that when I make friends they always remain just friends; they aren't supposed to expect anything else from me. Three: Never date anyone. Four: Never ever kiss, make out or have s*x with anyone. Most important was Rule No. 5 Five: Never fall in love.