Page 5 of Babalon

“Don’t you fuckin’ raise your voice at me, Nadia. I’ll beat that attitude right out of your smart fucking mouth.”

That’s all I was able to mutter before I was yanked away from Kaleb, dad’s hand gripping my upper arm in a way that I was sure would leave bruises.

Turning back to look at Kaleb, my Converse barely keeping up with my dad’s quicker and longer strides. Nearly dragging me down to my knees until I faced forward and focused on where I’m walking.

Little did I know, that was the last time I was going to see Kaleb. He was killed in a racing accident a few days later. His beautiful black Civic wrapped around a pole at sixty miles an hour. They said he didn’t feel anything, and I hoped that was true. Either way, my heart broke for him.

Dad pushed me to find a job the day after his funeral. Before I knew what was happening, my life had been consumed with work and paying half the bills of the house. Even half of the groceries while he, who made significantly more than I did, went out on the town living his bachelor life now that his daughter is an adult. Gone were the days where I actually had a parent and felt like I was growing into the woman I wanted to be. It was time to slave away, hand my cash over, and hope to God this ended sooner rather than later.

I lived like this for several years. I had so many hopes and dreams. Too bad no one gives a fuck what they are; aspirations don’t matter in Hazelwood. My friends care, but they are offliving their own lives. Kaleb cared too, but as broken as I felt… I had to move forward, even if my mind started to chip away.

Chapter two

Nadia

2 years ago - 25 years old

“Congratulations, Nadi!” Wren screamed from the stands.

I have just received my guard card and completed the basic training program for correctional officers in Indiana. It was something I decided to do on a whim and became really interested in being an officer. My dad would regularly comment on how the medical field and law enforcement would always have jobs available. So, here I am, low and behold, he was fucking absent.Shocker.

After working the morning shift at the post office and the night shift for a local trash pick-up service, I’ve had enough. My firstjob was at the local diner and not any better, it was grueling work. Boring. Dirty. A dead end.

During a night filled with tears, feeling sorry for myself and hating my life, I came across a posting for basic officer training and applied. When I woke up the next morning, I had an acceptance email.

Stunned doesn’t begin to explain how I felt.

I didn’t think an acceptance would have come so quickly, but I knew I had pretty good grades when I graduated, and I fit the diversity hiring requirements. I shouldn’t have been too surprised, but I was.

Here I am now, finishing up the last ten minutes of my mini-graduation. Ready to start applying for positions and to get the fuck out of Hazelwood. Away from my shitty dad, away from the white trash life most of us lived, and the bad memories that lingered just outside of my door.

“Bitch, look at you in that uniform. So fresh and so clean! If this job falls through, you could do a stripper-gram service,” Ivy crooned while grabbing hold of me and spinning me around.

“Remember that time we got in a fight in eighth grade and I blacked both of your eyes?”

“How could I forget? That’s when I learned how to contour like a pro.” Ivy grinned.

“I’m about to do it again.”

“Easy, easy!” Oliver chuckled, joining us.

“Oh, shut up, Oliver, she doesn’t mean it.”

“I don’t?” I replied with a playful smirk.

I was the rebel of the bunch, no doubt about it. I may have passed high school with flying colors and stayed out of trouble with the law, but people knew not to fuck with me. I was the one always ready to fight and stand up for someone else. The one with bloodied lips and black eyes from time to time. Sitting in the principal’s office, begging for him to not call my dad.

I couldn’t help but reminisce back to the day I had just mentioned, the day I beat Ivy’s ass. We were arguing over something so trivial, now that I think about it. It wasn’t boys, since we had drastically different tastes. She liked the well put together men, suits, ties, the whole shebang. I liked them rough, unkept, and wild.

You’ll never guess, but our disagreement was over a movie. We were so damn heated over the Wrath of the Titans remake. I thought the original couldn’t be beat and she had some crush on Sam Worthington. Needless to say, we came to blows and I ended up in the office with the town creep.

The memories of begging my principal caused me to shudder more times than I would prefer to count, to be honest. I… well… Principal Trenton made sure I found a way toencouragehim to not call my dad. I’ve relived those nightmares one too many times with my therapist, Elaine, and she tells me I’m not the one to blame. Doesn’t she know that victims don’t feel that way?

Stupid bitch.

I knew it was wrong, Trenton knew it was wrong, but no one in Hazelwood cares about girls who are sexually assaulted. You see all sorts of reports and stories online, but being a victim myself, I know people don’t really care.

They look at you with disdain, throw around snide remarks, and relentless victim blaming. How could a 15-year-old-girl getting throat fucked by her principal be at fault? There were times I choked so hard that I vomited in his trashcan, struggling to catch my breath. Another time he ripped one of my tonsils and I started coughing up blood. The nurse wanted to call the ambulance, thinking I was injured in P.E., but luckily, I talked her down.

---