I'll Tell You My Story, If You Promise Not to Tell
The envelope
Jenna's heart pounded, she thought with that kind of force it may burst.
She slid her nail under the flap, pushing it open.
There was a letter written in the same careful script.
My dear Jenna,
You are only a little girl, barely six. I want you to know how much I love you, and what happened had nothing to do with you.
You are so little, I doubt you will remember what I'm talking about by the time you get this, especially because I was careful to make sure it wasn't around you. I didn't want you to lose innocence before necessary.
Your father and I married very young, and young love won't last forever.
We started fighting, sometimes your dad would lose his temper and in his rages, would hit me. Then he relentlessy apologized. And I was always the fool to believe him.
"It'll never happen again, baby, I'm so sorry." he'd always say. But it did, over and over. It got to the point when one night he almost killed me.
Thank the lord you were at Auntie's that night.
I knew his promises were hallow and sorry was a lie. So I knew it was time to leave. I wanted badly to take you. So badly.It was an awful dilemma.
Because I knew the way he pleaded with me to stay, how well he always treated you. I was scared he might hurt you. I had to leave THEN and couldn't wait for courts.
I'm sorry. Know I love you, and maybe we'll meet again.
I'm sure dad'll treat you like he does now, as his princess.
Love,
Momma
Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I cried. I was brutally sobbing until my lungs hurt and my eyes had no tears left.
I noticed when I was trying to tuck the letter in the envelope that there was more in there.
A picture of her holding my five year old self, her wedding ring, and a cross necklace.
I cried without tears, carefully packing the letter back in the yellowed envelope in with the other three items.
I carefully concealed it in my agenda. Since dad doesn't care about my acedemics, he wouldn't be looking.
I knew what i wanted to but it only gave me more questions. Where did she go? Is she alive?
How is she?
Dad came home, and left me in my room, alone with my thoughts.
SUNDAY
still Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dad's at work again. I looked at my mom's letter, silently crying again.
I wanted to wear the pretty silver cross, the ring, that brought me a little closer to my absent mom.
Hours upon hours later, dad came home.
Angry & drunk. What else it new?
I was at the kitchen table, minding my own business, when he came and hit me. He hit me really hard on my cheek just below my right eye.I fell from the chair, and put my hand to my eye.
Was it just me or did it feel wet? Oh, crap. There's blood on the floor.He split my cheek near my eye and there was probably a lovely new bruise, too.
He began to kick me in the stomach, until I spit up a little, and it mixed in with the drops of blood. Ew...
I pulled my knees to my chest, he didn't notice and kept kicking my shin. I groaned.
He bent over me, slapping me hard.
"Stop the crying." wait fof it....."and clean this mess up." Stormed out.
I sat for a minute, regaining my awareness and the pain began to numb. I sat up, still crying and mopped the blood and vomit.
Then I limped to the bathroom.
The blood running down my face combined with my tears. I looked a little horrifying. I wet toilet paper and dabbed at the split skin.
I was right. Pretty, pretty bruise.
Each time a salty tear hit my cut, it stung all over again. I went through the process of cleaning it again and then flopped onto my bed.
I had another restless night, and woke exhausted. Last night, my eye was swollen shut, at least it was normal now.
I went into the bathroom and applied makeup to cover it as best as I could.
So I mindlessly trudged to school.
She slid her nail under the flap, pushing it open.
There was a letter written in the same careful script.
My dear Jenna,
You are only a little girl, barely six. I want you to know how much I love you, and what happened had nothing to do with you.
You are so little, I doubt you will remember what I'm talking about by the time you get this, especially because I was careful to make sure it wasn't around you. I didn't want you to lose innocence before necessary.
Your father and I married very young, and young love won't last forever.
We started fighting, sometimes your dad would lose his temper and in his rages, would hit me. Then he relentlessy apologized. And I was always the fool to believe him.
"It'll never happen again, baby, I'm so sorry." he'd always say. But it did, over and over. It got to the point when one night he almost killed me.
Thank the lord you were at Auntie's that night.
I knew his promises were hallow and sorry was a lie. So I knew it was time to leave. I wanted badly to take you. So badly.It was an awful dilemma.
Because I knew the way he pleaded with me to stay, how well he always treated you. I was scared he might hurt you. I had to leave THEN and couldn't wait for courts.
I'm sorry. Know I love you, and maybe we'll meet again.
I'm sure dad'll treat you like he does now, as his princess.
Love,
Momma
Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I cried. I was brutally sobbing until my lungs hurt and my eyes had no tears left.
I noticed when I was trying to tuck the letter in the envelope that there was more in there.
A picture of her holding my five year old self, her wedding ring, and a cross necklace.
I cried without tears, carefully packing the letter back in the yellowed envelope in with the other three items.
I carefully concealed it in my agenda. Since dad doesn't care about my acedemics, he wouldn't be looking.
I knew what i wanted to but it only gave me more questions. Where did she go? Is she alive?
How is she?
Dad came home, and left me in my room, alone with my thoughts.
SUNDAY
still Jenna's POV
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dad's at work again. I looked at my mom's letter, silently crying again.
I wanted to wear the pretty silver cross, the ring, that brought me a little closer to my absent mom.
Hours upon hours later, dad came home.
Angry & drunk. What else it new?
I was at the kitchen table, minding my own business, when he came and hit me. He hit me really hard on my cheek just below my right eye.I fell from the chair, and put my hand to my eye.
Was it just me or did it feel wet? Oh, crap. There's blood on the floor.He split my cheek near my eye and there was probably a lovely new bruise, too.
He began to kick me in the stomach, until I spit up a little, and it mixed in with the drops of blood. Ew...
I pulled my knees to my chest, he didn't notice and kept kicking my shin. I groaned.
He bent over me, slapping me hard.
"Stop the crying." wait fof it....."and clean this mess up." Stormed out.
I sat for a minute, regaining my awareness and the pain began to numb. I sat up, still crying and mopped the blood and vomit.
Then I limped to the bathroom.
The blood running down my face combined with my tears. I looked a little horrifying. I wet toilet paper and dabbed at the split skin.
I was right. Pretty, pretty bruise.
Each time a salty tear hit my cut, it stung all over again. I went through the process of cleaning it again and then flopped onto my bed.
I had another restless night, and woke exhausted. Last night, my eye was swollen shut, at least it was normal now.
I went into the bathroom and applied makeup to cover it as best as I could.
So I mindlessly trudged to school.