Teach Me How to Love

Rule 2: Do Your Research

~Do your research~

When I first woke I was greeted by a blur of orange and gray. After a few minutes my vision along with my memories of last night rushed back. The F on the math test, Abigail's offer, and the beating. I rolled over in my bed so I could read the alarm clock. It read 5:45 A.M.

I groggily dragged myself out of bed and into the shower. I sighed in relief as the warm water ran over my body. The feeling didn't last long for the water soon turned cold causing me to speed up my shower. I threw on a hoodie that would hopefully cover my bruised face and sweatpants that didn't rub against my sore legs.

Every single movement I made resulted in a shooting pain throughout my body. I was used to the pain by now though. Or at least as much as one can possibly be.

I quietly tip toed down the stairs so I wouldn't disturb my father who was passed out on the couch. Once I arrived in the kitchen area I grabbed an apple and my backpack which didn't move an inch from yesterday. I quickly made my way outside.

I wasn't surprised when I saw my mom's hunched over figure trembling from tears on the porch. One of the worst things to ever see is your mom crying.

Ever since my father began abusing us she has been suffering from insomnia. There is hardly ever a day when I don't hear her roaming the house at night or see her crying on the porch early in the morning.

My mother used to be beautiful, but now her once flawless skin is covered in bruises of various colors. Her once brilliant green eyes are now dull and filled with pain. Her once golden locks, which I inherited, now seemed dull and weak along with the rest of her body.

The worst part though is that my father broke her spirit. She used to possess a charisma and personality that you couldn't help but be attracted to. Now she is a walking misery.

I hugged my mom as she sobbed quietly. It has always hurt me to see her like this, but sadly there is nothing I can do about it. Some part deep inside of her still loves my father and that part has kept her and me from ratting out my father.

As much as I hate my father I wouldn't sacrifice my mom's sliver of potential happiness just to see my father's demise. She stroked my hair and whispered good-bye. It hurt me to leave her with him everyday but there was nothing I could do about it.

Thud-thud-thud. My feet fell on the sidewalk in a rhythmic pattern. My footsteps were everything my life wasn't; steady and soothing.

I arrived at school and sat down on the steps. My watch read 6:30. I looked up at the brick building wondering what life would be like without my father. Or maybe life without abuse. It would be very nice. I can image it. The 3 of us going out to dinner at that popular restaurant, Marianna, laughing and being the family I envied the most, the happy family. After a filling meal we would walk on the beach while reminiscing our happy memories.

My day dreaming was cut short when Manuel, the janitor arrived. Once he arrived he opened up the main doors and beckoned me forward with his dust rag.

"Come on in son. It's mighty chilly this morning," he said in a thick Spanish accent. I walked in welcoming the blast of heat emanating from inside the school.

Then an idea struck me. I mean Abigail did tell me to ask anyone if I wanted answers, besides I don't like socializing with other teenagers or really anyone.

"Um Manuel?" I called out to him from outside the janitor's closet.

"Yes," he responded.

"Do you know Abigail Simmons's story?"

"Ahh Abby. She was a great tutor. Everyone who needed help wanted her and everyone who ever got her help succeeded. In fact, she even helped me learn English. Her popularity as a tutor reached its peak last year, when she was a junior! Sadly her glory was short lived. This year she just stopped tutoring people. The happy self-sacrificing girl we knew was replaced by a cold and distant one. No one knows what happened to her," he finished with a sigh as he emerged out of the janitor's closet, broom in hand.

"Thank you Manuel," I said absentmindedly as I walked away deep in thought.

Abigail's story struck a cord. The story was almost the exact same as my mom's. Both were amazing people who were broken never to be the same again. The only difference was that no one really knew what broke Abigail. This revelation just made me more determined to solve this mystery and possibly, just possibly stick around for her.

I was sitting in the library letting all the information soak in. I was so lost in thought I didn't notice her presence until she spoke to me. A sense of déjà vu washed over me.

"Are you sure of your answer now?" Abigail asked. I was a little surprised that she asked me if I was confident about my answer not if I knew my answer. But then again I think I did know my answer yesterday and I'm pretty sure Abigail would be able to sense stuff like that.

"Yeah I accept your offer, Abby," I said. I'm not sure what compelled me to call her Abby. I guess I just wanted to say it, after all Manuel did call her Abby. She wasn't answering me though.

"Um are you okay?" I asked getting a bit worried. Wondering what I did wrong.

"Don't call me Abby," she finally responded tersely.

"Why?" I pried genuinely confused.

"Just don't. What time is it? she blatantly changed the subject.

"7:15," I said deciding to go along with the subject change for now.

"Good, we have about half an hour,"

"Half an hour for what," I said a little scared for, Abigail was starting to smile a bit so it has to be pretty big to trigger some emotion. That was the most emotion I have ever seen her face portray, but I haven't really seen Abigail a whole lot. It was still surprising yet pleasant.

"Your first tutoring session with me," she said her smile disappeared but I could tell she was still looking forward for the lesson, for what reason I don't know.

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Author's Note: What do you think. How about that scene about not calling her Abigail. What will happen in the tutoring session? Read to find out. Vote, comment, fan. Luv ya.

-WrittenDreams3

<What is your favorite food?>

Mine is potatoes. I could eat them all day, everyday.