99 Ways to Save a Life

One thing most people don't know about me, is the fact that I forced myself to be normal every day since my father was removed from my environment, my life altogether. It was easier when he was beating me, I suppose. He would beat me to go to school and interact more with people, so no one would think anything but when he left, I didn't trust anyone and I became claustrophobic.

My mother wouldn't touch me because she knew how I felt and she didn't come too close because I would begin to tense up and sweat. One time, when my teacher was patting my back continuously, I had a panic attack. It was ridiculous, I was always ashamed of myself, and I always believed it was my fault. It was my fault that I was beat and it was my fault that I was being affected like this. My father wasn't anywhere near me but he still affected me every day, until my mother offered an escape that could possibly save me from myself.

”If you can't learn to live in the world, you won't be able to live at all.”

At that point, I'd much rather die than have to step one more foot into my high school. I wanted to live in my room instead. I wanted to make it my safe haven because no other place was. My room was where I could be alone and not be touched or bothered. I couldn't deal with another touch from other people after what my father had did. He damaged the positive side of being touched and that's all I really wanted. I wanted to be able to be touched and cared for again, like I had been before the beatings had started.

I prayed every night hoping my mother wouldn't turn into my father. They seemed like the same person and it was scary. She's a workaholic and a single parent with two kids, my twin brother and me. The stress she goes through is painful to watch. I think that one day she'll snap on me because I'm the easier target. My brother hasn't been hurt once by either of our parents but he watched me suffer over the years, and never spoke about it because I begged him not to. My mother was blind throughout the years about the abused.

I would make up stupid excuses and have my brother back them up. She was too tired or too naive to notice but I never held anything against her. I lost my father and I couldn't bear to lose my mother. My father had been a great father for the first few years of my life, until he began to turn into his demon that had been taunting him for ages. The demon was there before he had met my mother, before he had married my mother, and before he had children. He was never satisfied but he went with what people thought was best for him and never went after what he truly wanted. He didn't want my brother or me and he could barely stand to be around my mother for long periods of time.

But, I'd rather not dwell on all of this. My brother finally intervened one night when he had come home from a party. He walked into my room breaking the silence and finally putting light to my darkness. He startled me because he had never spoke to me much after my father left and after I revealed how I was truly affected by the whole ordeal. My pillow was still wet from my nightmares but I barely noticed once he came over to my bed and sat down with something in his hands. I stared at him, not bothering to take notice to the object. My small decayed, grassy eyes met his blue-green holes that knew how to suck people's attention.

I bit my lower lip, uncomfortably but held the gaze as long as I could manage. He put the object down on the ground before pulling me into a tight, long hug and I felt my insides shutting down and my back breaking as he did so. My eyes were refreshed with new tears and before I knew it, they were falling and making his shoulder as wet as my pillow. My tears removed the scent of smoke and booze from his clothes, which made me think of what he had been doing. I missed the old brother I had and how we used to be and that night when we hugged for a long time. I thought about all the memories of my brother and I together and it made me want to change just for him.

Justin finally pulled away, not even bothering to wipe his eyes but he did touch my cheek, gently, which soaked his thumb. He bit his lower lip, which we both did in certain situations. It was an identical twin thing. Sometimes I could even read his mind and we spoke at the same times. We did the same things at once, or just knew what each other were going through. But, Justin could never grasp how I felt every day, until he handed me the object, and my fingers strummed over the six nylon strings.

I hadn't touched this object in so long. It had given me so much hope when I had been beat but my old one had been broken when my father threw me across the room, landing on it. Justin had to clean it up because I could barely breathe at the time. I remember the look we shared the day that had happened. And, we shared the exact look tonight as I played a song for him, while my mother was away at work. Justin mumbled a few words under his breath and I began to sing as I had done before. My voice is pleasant, strong and something I'm very proud of. Something I'm actually confident in, unlike every other bit of my body or personality. Singing was what I did best and I was forever thankful for being reunited with my savior.

It didn't take long after that night to pack and move into a completely new world where I would have to learn to rehabilitate, so that I could live for my brother and my mother. It was a place I never thought I'd be, but I knew it's where I had to be. I held my savior in my left hand and my medium-sized suitcase in the right hand as I stared at the sign that read:

Welcome to Camp Conquer
Rehabilitation center for teens

This sign read to me like this in my head:

Welcome to Your New Life
Forget everything and be yourself

I stared hard at it before I made my first steps toward the strange new world that would bring me more hope that I had, and bring me back to being myself again. The new world that would bring me back to being Jennifer Lee Adams.