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Jesus Saved Me


Kelli Klabenes

It had happened again. He had slapped her so hard this time that both her eyes were black and swollen. The night before, her father had been drinking and wanted Allison to make him a sandwich. He hollered from his recliner, “Hey, you little brat make me a sandwich.”

“Dad, I have to do my homework. It’s almost ten and I have two subjects left.” Allison exclaimed.

That was all it took, he was in her room and had hit her so hard it flung her on her bedroom floor. The blow hurt, but she knew by now not to get up, until he had left the room. As her father stood over her saying, “Come on brat, don’t cry. I told you to make me a sandwich, don’t you know by now to do what I tell you?” Allison was holding her breath, and holding in tears that stung her eyes. Tears that needed to fall, that needed to be seen, but she knew her only hope was Jesus. ‘If only I had made him the sandwich’, was all she thought as she crawled to the side of her bed.

A small statue of Jesus stood on her nightstand. Her mother had given it to her before she had died. “If you ever need someone to talk too, talk to Jesus, he will answer all your prayers and never hurt you.” her Mother stated.

Her mother had been Allison’s rock, her best friend. Allison used to set with her and read stories, stories that would last all afternoon. She would watch her mother, study her every move and become lost in her smell. The smell of sweet perfume and medicine, and realize that nothing else mattered, but her mother at that moment.

Worries and Time that is what neither one of them could escape from. Her mother had developed a brain tumor when Allison was only seven, and didn’t have much time. It was Allison’s eighth birthday, instead of celebrating; Allison was attending her Mother’s funeral. Anger, Sorrow, and helplessness, was all she felt. Her mother had left her, left her in a cruel, harsh world. She had left her with an abusive, alcoholic father, that didn’t love her, but only wanted her as his slave.

Snapping back into reality, Allison lifted herself off the floor, and ran to the bathroom. Her hair was disheveled, her nose bleeding, and her eyes were swelling. “Why does he have to be like this, why does he have to hurt me?” Allison wondered, as tears streamed down her beaten face.

The next morning, Allison could barely peel her eyes open. The swelling had intensified and her eyes were black as coal. Black as the darkest night, with pain that shot through her eyes to the back of her head, making her have one of the worst headaches she’d ever had.

Allison quietly put bread in the toaster, careful not to make too much noise. Pouring herself a glass of juice, Allison was pondering the idea of going to school. She was sure the teachers had an idea of her father’s abuse. They had too. She wore long sleeve shirts in summer to cover her bruises, and always wore pants. Even when it was 100 degrees outside, Allison wore pants hiding the bruises from her father’s fury. He had never hit her on the face before, and she wasn’t sure what to do. Should she go to school and face the teachers? Should she stay home and wait for the bruises to go away? Just then her toast popped up, scaring her to death. Looking around, she made sure the toaster hadn’t wakened her father. Breathing a sigh of relief, she ate her toast in the quiet of the kitchen. Quietness, that crept to the back of her neck and ran down her spine. Silence that could break a person’s spirit, but gave Allison hope.

Hope, that if she went to school they would help her. Help her escape into another life. A life that would leave her with smiles and happiness, happiness that would let her believe again. A life that would let her believe, that someone really cared for her the way her mother had. Thinking of her mother, Allison had to choke back tears and run for school. She had to run away from her house as fast as she could run. Run away from anger, darkness, and helplessness that seemed to swallow her.

School was three blocks away, and as Allison ran she knew today was the day, she was running towards her freedom. Away from an abusive, alcoholic father who didn’t love her, to a new life. A life where she would be loved, and would be able to love. Walking into school, she could feel the stares dig into the back of her skull, could see the pity on the kid’s faces. About to open her classroom door, her principal grabbed her arm and pulled Allison into her office.

“Allison, what happened to you? Did your father hit you?” The principal asked.

Her principal tried to search for answers in the young girl’s eyes. Eyes that only held sadness, sadness that seemed to penetrate to the core of Allison.

Allison sat quietly, wondering if she should tell her principal the truth or make up a lie. Realizing that this was her ticket out, Allison did the unthinkable. “Yes, my father hit me, he has been hitting me, and I can’t take it anymore. Will you help me?” Allison pleaded.

Tears came to the principal’s eyes, as she reached for Allison. Hugging her was all she could think of at the moment, but then mustered, “Yes Dear, we will help you and were going to help you right now.”

Reaching for her phone, the principal called the Health and Human services office. She told them, “To send someone over right away, we have a situation.”

The principal left the office, and Allison was left alone. Left to ponder her thoughts. Should she have really come to school today? What was going to happen? What were the social services going to do? Millions of questions raced through her mind, as the door swung open. A lady with round glasses and a pretty face entered the room. Allison was scared, but knew in her heart she had done the right thing. Hours later, after the lady had drilled her with tons of questions, Allison was told from her, “Allison we’re taking you away from your Father. Lets go grab your things at your house.”

Pulling up to the drive, Allison looked for her father’s car and knew he was home. The kind lady accompanied her to the house, and informed Allison’s Dad of the situation. Her father didn’t flinch, didn’t care, he didn’t love her; she was a burden to him.

Allison stuffed some clothes and personal belongings in her suitcase. Ready to walk out the door, she quickly went to her nightstand and grabbed Jesus. She knew without him that she wouldn’t have made it this far in her life, and now with Jesus by her side she was going to succeed. She was going to have the best life she could have, and Jesus would help her and never hurt her.

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