Before you begin reading this story, I'd like to address a few things so that we're all aware of what's to be expected in this book.
This book is directed toward an 18+ audience due to the topics being discussed such as substance abuse, physical & emotion abuse, violence, suicide, and sexual content.
If any of the topics listed makes you uncomfortable, please refrain from reading my book. My intentions are never to hurt or trigger anyone so please take heed of this and if you have any questions, comments, or concerns please be sure to message me personally!
I only hope for you to enjoy this book as much as I do writing it.
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𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟕 || 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬, 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚
‿︵‿︵ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ・❉・ ʚ˚̣̣̣͙ɞ‿︵‿︵
Mornings were always the hardest for me.
The eerie sensation of waking up out of a peaceful dream only to be welcomed by the reality you were trying to escape; it frustrated me. Not only that, the horrendous sound of my worn out Panasonic alarm clock never failed to put me in a bad mood.
My movements were sluggish but I eventually managed to drag myself out of bed. I pulled back the tacky, tribal print curtains that covered my bedroom window and let out a tiresome sigh. The slightly dim yet lustrous sun peaked just above a stratus cloud, emitting hues of orange and pink. This caused my hand to itch. My immediate instinct was to grab my camera and snap a photo of the heavenly sight before me but unfortunately, it had been smashed to tiny fragments last night.
My Minolta X-700 was my pride and joy; rest in peace to her.
I restlessly stretched and walked over to the restroom where I refreshed myself with a well-deserved shower. As water cascaded down my body, the remains of dried blood loosened itself from my skin. I winced in pain under the lukewarm water and made sure to wash my body accordingly.
Just hold on a little while longer, Ophelia.
I didn't know how long it took me to shower but when I returned to my bedroom, the sun was shining much brighter than it did before. A strapless black dress along with black stiletto heels is what I decided to wear. I knew that Mrs. Russel would bitch on me if I wore something as provocative as this, so I ultimately put on a dark brown trench coat over my outfit. I turned around to face the mirror behind me, slightly satisfied with my reflection. My trench coat complimented my cinnamon colored skin nicely and my mid-back length, messy curls were unruly but I didn't mind. I swiftly grabbed a pair of black shades from my dresser and put them on. I've never gone to a meeting without them.
As I stepped outside of my apartment complex, the toxic smell of Los Angeles' polluted air filled my nostrils. This alone made me regret waking up early. With each step I took, the sounds of my heels clacking against the paved sidewalk could be heard from any distance. The streets weren't too busy on Tuesday mornings and I thanked God for the inactivity since I seemed to bring attention everywhere I go. It wasn't intentional, it just seemed to happen naturally. My grandma always said I had this aura that attracted people to me and honestly, I was starting to believe her.
All until the wrong people started gravitating toward me.
My walk came to an end when I approached a tall, tan building that never failed to intimidate me. I entered the building and signed myself in on the flimsy yellow clipboard that sat alone on the reception table.
"Hey there Ophelia," a familiar voice said. My head snapped up and I saw Gregg, a supervisor that works here. I gave him a weak smile and wave before entering the main room. Curious eyes immediately shot up in my direction and I couldn't help but feel the unpleasant surveillance that the group of people put me under. I rushed to the only empty seat that was left and cleared my throat.
"You're late," Mrs. Russel gritted. "How many times do I have to tell you that our meetings start at six in the mornin' and not a minute later?"
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms in response. I honestly didn't see a purpose in being here but she did. Sometimes, I wish Mrs. Russel never found me that night...
"We have new faces in the crowd so please, can everyone introduce themselves accordingly starting from this way," she signaled with her hand. As everyone introduced themselves, my anxiety began to boil over. I never spoke a word in this building and I didn't want today to be the day. It's not that I'm scared to speak or anything, I just don't want people diggin' their noses where it doesn't belong. My father always taught me to keep to myself, especially when I was around people I didn't know from a can of paint.
"Your turn," Mrs. Russel snapped. I looked around and saw that everyone was waiting for me to utter a word. The few regulars that'd come here were at the edge of their seats, waiting to hear my voice since they've never heard me speak.
Nothing but silence filled the room as they all stared, hoping for me to even let out the tiniest of mumbles. Instead, I waved at everyone and hoped for that to be just enough for them to leave me be.
"Lil' girl, can I ask you somethin'?" Mrs. Russel tilted her head. For an old woman, she had a hell of a lot of sass. I raised my brow and she continued to speak.
"Do you wanna get better?" I slowly nodded and in return, I got a sarcastic smile. "And how do you expect to get better by not speakin'? Notice how there's almost a whole new set of people in here. You know why? Because the others have actually been tryin' to better themselves. I don't think you wanna be stuck in here for the rest of your life so you better get to talkin'."
I was speechless. The only time Mrs. Russel scolded me was when I'd come late to our meetings but she'd never call me out on staying silent. I haven't seen this woman so upset in my life and part of me felt distressed as I witnessed her dissatisfaction with me.
Speak.
No, I can't. I'm not ready to open up to anyone, I will never open up to anyone. No one can help me out of the situation I'm in and even if they try, he will always find a sinister way to get back at me. However, this secret was becoming way too much for me to bear. I so desperately need to release this pent up anxiety that I've held onto for years.
SPEAK.
"My name is Ophelia Banks and I've been physically, emotionally, and mentally abused by my ex-boyfriend for the past three years."
