Page 130 of Salute, To Bravery
“Excuse us for a moment, Violet,” Leanne paraded off before Violet could say anything. Leanne dragged me into her car. “What happened?” Her eyes were blaring into mine.
Tears flooded my eyes. I couldn’t tell her before Violet. I shouldn’t tell her anything. Violet deserved to be told first, but I didn’t know how she would react. “I had a panic attack…” I paused. “In front of my sergeant. He found that unreliable and kicked me to the curb,” I said in a shaky voice.
“Oh,” she looked at her hand and started to fidget with one of her many gold rings, “I didn’t know.”
“No one knows.”
“Not even your girlfriend?”
“Not even Violet. I’m just scared that she will find me untrustworthy, stupid, or even weak.” My voice shook more as I talked. “I have to be strong for her. She deserves so much more than me.” I looked into Leanne’s eyes and realized that they were reflecting my emotions.
“You deserve to be loved.” Her voice sounded like it was bleeding, as if she was just as hurt and upset as me. “No one is perfect. Not even Violet.” She started to wipe her tears. “God, don’t make me cry,” she cursed. “I love you, but don’t hide yourself from the one you want.”
I simply nodded and looked into her eyes. That was when a knock brought me back to where I was. I was in a car crying.
I wiped my tears and got out of the car.
Chapter Fourteen.
Violet
Iknew Ophelia wasn’t telling me something. Especially since Leanne brought it up during therapy, and they were both crying in Leanne’s car. I couldn’t shake the feeling of curiosity and desperation.
I paced in my apartment. The sky was dark and full of invisible stars. My mind was going a million miles an hour. It felt like I couldn’t breathe.
Icouldn’tbreathe. All I could do was gasp for air, hoping that it would do something.
I wanted to call Ophelia. I thought Ophelia could stop this, but I knew I wasn’t freaking out about her. So, I took a melatonin and fell into a shallow sleep.
???
I heard hateful yelling. This kind of hatred could escalate to killing someone, then try to bring them back just to have the fun of killing them again.
I only heard it when my dad yelled at one of his friends. His friends always told him the same thing, ‘get help,’ or ‘you need to stop this habit before it kills you.’
I agreed with them. His alcoholism was bad, and it always ended horribly. The drinking ended him in jail all the time, with no one to watch me. I would always hide in the bathroom when one of his friends didn’t have time to take me.
I got up from my dull pink bed and opened the door. Yellow lights flooded my vision, and I saw my father yelling at his phone. I couldn’t shake the feeling of running away, but I walked down the hallway with all my good and bad memories.
I overheard the voice on the telephone; it was Robert, as I had walked closer to my dad.Robert was dad’s friend who would take me most of the time.
Something inside told me to run, but I didn’t.
I took away the phone once the conversation was done. While doing so, my dad cursed me out because of it.
“Stop that, you little shit. I was on the phone.” His voice was full of the same hatred he had towards his friend.
I pressed the button that would end the call.
“You little shit.” He dropped the phone, making it hang from the wire, and ran at me.
I sprinted back down the hallway to the fourth door on the left and locked the door. My heart was beating so loud I thought that he could hear it through the door.
“Open up right now, before I break the door,” his voice still full of disgust, “I’m going to count to three.” He started to tap his foot impatiently.
I ran towards my white dresser and tried to move it, but it was too heavy. I tried to move my bed, but it was too heavy.
Fear crept in. I had nothing to protect myself with.
