Page 4 of My Vows Are Sealed

“‘Then be afraid of the sword for yourselves, for wrath brings the punishment of the sword, so that you may know there is judgment,’” he recited. “Rememberwhoseyou are, Darla.”

“I know. I’m an instrument of the Lord,” I said.

“And you’re alsomydaughter. What you do reflects on this house. And don’t think I won’t find out about it, because I willalwaysfind out,” he threatened.

Oh, how well I knew that. Over the summer, I’d been yelled at, whacked multiple times with a Bible, and preached at for an entire hour because someone told him I’d left the youth group room in the middle of a lesson. When I told him it was because I’d started my period and needed to get a tampon, I’d been whacked with his precious book even more for even mentioning my menstrual cycle. Apparently, it was unclean and not to be spoken of. Clearly the Lord didn’t mind my leaving for a couple of minutes to attend to my sanitary needs, though, or He wouldn’t have let me start my period right at that exact moment. But when I’d pointed that out to my dad, he’d just hit me again and told me the Lord was more important than getting blood all over my clothes.

“Yes, sir,” I said as I left the kitchen, so quietly it was almost a whisper.

I walked into the living room, where my mom was sitting on the couch watching a rerun of some Billy Graham special on TV. I could see the dark circles under her eyes and the pain and exhaustion written all over her face.

“Can I get you anything, Mom?” I asked.

She turned to look at me and gave me a weak smile. “Time to go already?”

“Yep,” I chuckled.

“Got your lunch money?” she asked. “And all your supplies?”

“Uh-huh. Everything’s in my backpack already,” I reminded her. “We packed it all last night, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right,” she mumbled. “Sorry. I forgot.”

Memory issues and brain fogginess were symptoms of multiple sclerosis, at least on bad days. I was used to having to remind her of little stuff like this, especially since she’d gotten worse after a bad episode in April.

“It’s okay. Do you need anything before I leave?”

“No, I’m okay,” she said weakly.

I went over to give her a hug and a kiss on her cheek. “Okay. Have a good day, Mom.”

“You too. Good luck on your first day,” she told me.

“Thanks,” I chuckled weakly. “I’ll see you this afternoon.”

I rushed out the door to avoid any more Scripture quotes from my dad and went to stand in front of the house to wait for the school bus.

* * *

Even though I’d already been to freshman orientation last week, walking through the front doors of Charleston High School for the first time was…intimidating, to say the least. I knew I was supposed to go to homeroom first, which was in room…darn it, what room was it again?

I pulled my schedule and campus map out.

Right. Room 316. Okay, so where was I right now? Um…

“Fresh meat!” someone snickered, shoving my shoulder as they walked past me.

“Get out of the way, freshie,” someone else goaded with another shove.

I tried to move toward the wall so I could look at the campus map and get my bearings, and I got jostled a little more.

Okay, so I was at the east gate right now…or was it the west gate? Oh, my gosh, I was so confused. Why couldn’t this map just have a giant red arrow with aYOU ARE HEREmessage above it? It would have been so much easier.

“Darla?” I heard a slightly familiar voice ask.

I looked up to find Heather Sullivan from youth group standing there, smiling kindly at me. She was a couple of years older than me, so at least she’d know where everything was.

“Hi, Heather,” I mumbled.

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