Take Me Home {Completed}

Chapter One

This story is not for you if you cannot handle abuse. However, this story is for you if you like a story that gets you angry, teary-eyed, smiling, laughing and begging for more (just give me a few chapters to win you over - please)!

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"Stars are the scars of the universe..."

― Ricky Maye

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Chapter One:

Nola attempted to focus on her history teacher,  Dr. O'Hare, as he lectured the class on World War II and the effects it had on the economy, people, and job force. Two years ago, Nola would have had her ears perked and mind ready to absorb all the information Dr. O'Hare was giving out.

However, nowadays, she was doing enough just to keep her eyes open.

Today, like many days, Nola had barely any sleep. If her calculations were right, she had a cumulative two hours and thirty-one minutes of sleep the night before.

Truth be told, she would have slept more had Nola not been given the task of staying awake and waiting for Mitch, her boyfriend, to come over. She had learned a while back that if she was not awake for when he came over, at any time, he would be enraged.

It was not until the clock rounded five-thirty in the morning that Nola figured he was not coming. For a split second, Nola found herself relieved that he wasn't coming because it meant that she could get some shut-eye. However, it dawned on Nola as soon as her head hit the pillow that even when Mitch was not physically there, he was still 'teaching her a lesson.' She learned to always be prepared, even when if she didn't need to be - or, at least, that was what Nola had assumed.

Sitting in class, deaf to Dr. O'Hare's lesson, Nola knew she'd suffer through another day of exhaustion. When she was to arrive home, Nola knew without a shadow of a doubt that Mitch would be there. He would stay for the whole night, keeping her up and making sure she stays at his beck and call.

Tonight, she would be lucky to get a few hours of sleep and come to school tomorrow without any bruises or cuts.

Nola closed her eyes, not to go to sleep like she wanted but instead to reflect on all that Mitch had inflicted on her in the past two years.

Inflicted, that was a harsh word. He never inflicted — he punished, Nola thought.

As she let the word bounce around in her mind for a minute, the word inflicted felt wrong. It had been a long time since she had considered the bruises, cuts, or broken bones that he caused as anything more than him teaching her . . . Teaching her to be a good girl and a listener.

Nola had always been bad at listening and obeying people, which use to be her biggest flaw — until Mitch.

He was kind to her, Nola believed. He was teaching her in the best way he could, to act like a normal human being. The scars and the pain she had and felt were just tiny reminders to: listen, be silent, and do what people say, with no questions or hesitation - at least that is what Mitch instructed Nola.

Nola, over the course of two years, had learned to remember every syllable that Mitch spoke. She had to if she wanted to please him, which was one of Nola's main goals in life: to make Mitch happy.

She loved to make him happy, the best she could because he was good to her. He, unlike anyone else in her life, had taught her how to be the woman she was made to be.

Her dad never instructed her that a woman should never talk unless spoken to. No, he let his daughter grow up having a mouth of her own that would get her in trouble, more often than not.