Breaking Free

Emancipation. How strange it sounds to me. I don't even think I could do this without the help that Jackson is offering me. I would have been stumbling around blindly if it wasn't for him rescuing me.
I begin to wonder why Jackson is doing this for me.
"Why do you want to help me so much?" I ask.
"I have my reasons," he says, "I'm not ready to talk to you about that yet."
"I totally understand, there are things I'm not ready to tell you either," I say.
I wonder why he's so adamant about saving me from my father. It's not like he's known me that long, we met all of three days ago.
I sit on the edge of the bed and look out the window, locking eyes on the truck. I can't believe that I've ridden in this boys truck twice and gotten away with minimal bruising at my father's hand.
"Are you okay?" Jackson asks me.
"I don't know, not really," I answer honestly. "I'm scared."
"I'm here to help protect you, I'm going to go talk to my mom right now, if you want to come with me, feel free,"
I follow Jackson down the stairs and into the kitchen, he leaves me in there and I take a seat at the dining table and wait for him to fetch his mom from the living room.
"What's wrong dear?" she asks as she enters the room.
"This is Lina," Jackson says, "she's in trouble."
"What kind of trouble?" Jackson's mom eyes me suspiciously.
"With her dad, that kind of trouble," he says stressing the word that.
"Like Donna trouble?" she asks.
"Exactly like Donna trouble," Jackson says.
I'm utterly confused and don't know what to say so I look between them both as they seem to have a silent conversation.
"Lina, dear, you can stay as long as you need, we have a pull out couch in the living room and I'm sure Jackson wouldn't mind sleeping there until you get things sorted out," she says sweetly.
That was easy.
I want to know who Donna is and what kind of trouble she caused. I have a feeling it was some sort of abuse since he mentioned my dad and his mom was so understanding.
"Thank you," I say quietly. I don't know what else to say. I can feel tears prickling in the corners of my eyes and I try hard not to let them fall.
"I want you to feel welcome here," Jackson says.
"I already do, more than you realize," I say and a single tear slides down my cheek. Jackson smiles sadly at me and reaches over and brushes the tear out off of my face. I flinch instinctively at his touch.
"Sorry," I mutter.
"For what?" he asks.
"Shying away from you, I'm not used to that," I say honestly.
"I'm sorry for not thinking about it first, would you like to go upstairs?" Jackson asks.
"Sure," I say.
We walk back up the stairs toward Jackson's room. I make a stop in the bathroom.
I sit down in the floor with my back against the door and I let all of my pent up tears fall down my face. After a few moments, I stand up and splash cold water on my face to try and erase the fact that I've been crying.
I exit the bathroom and make my way back to Jackson's room where he is sitting at the desk with a search engine popped up.
"I'm looking for things on emancipation," he tells me without looking up.
"Thank you, I've looked up some of the things already," I say.
Then I remember that my backpack is still at the house. I am instantly stricken with guilt.
I can't believe that I've defied him so horribly, I know that the moment he finds me, he's going to go ballistic. I'm afraid of the punishment he's going to have in store for me.
"Shit," I say to myself.
"What's wrong?" Jackson asks.
"I have nothing here, all of my school things are at the house, all of my clothes, everything," I explain. "I don't even have a change of clothes to wear to school on Monday."
"It'll be okay, we'll figure something out. I'm sure my mom has some old clothes that will fit you and you can tell by looking at her, that she dresses modernly."
"I guess so," I say noting the fact that she was in a pair of low rise jeans and a fitted tee shirt. "What about school stuff? I have my term paper there and everything."
"We'll figure it out, I promise," Jackson says and I can tell that he's not lying.