7

Kendall's POV

"I think going to the college therapist will do you good, calm you done even." He started.

We have just reached college, and were about to head to our respectful lecture rooms. Eta had done his best to keep me calm during the car ride and now, for my daily dose of motivation, he was talking me into being calm until I saw him during our recess, for another dose of motivation.

"I'm not sure I'll be able to," I muttered, as I looked away. He pulled my face gently back, so I could look at him.

"You have to try. And if you feel uncomfortable, I'll accompany you." He assured me, nodding.

"I'll think about it," I replied, squeezing his hand.

The school therapist knew my story, hack, the whole college did. As big as that college was. And I guess that's why it was easy to get the special leave. They knew what I went through, and in a way, they got to understand that there was a time that my mind would go back to that fateful day, the day I was stolen away from my people, and done things no girl was deserving.

My dignity was stolen by my biological father's best friend because he thought I was parading myself in front of society, and I deserved to be punished. So he stole me from my home, and he violated me. I was tortured daily, and my will to survive was shrinking by the day.

To end it all, my dad shot me twice in the stomach and I was left for dead. And I think a part of him was feeling guilty about what he allowed his friend and his men to do to me. And in a way, this was him saying sorry. And a part of me was grateful that he shot me and left me for death.

But all the gratefulness went out the window when I woke up in hospital two months later. And when I heard how they found me, I don't know how I survived. After my father shot me, they threw me into a river, and I washed out near Gambino's beach house.

I had hypothermia, lost nearly 30 percent of my blood, and I looked like a corpse. I was black and blue, and in a coma for three weeks. After that, I spent a week in ICU. The next month, they just had to silently pray that I woke up. When I woke up, I wanted to kill myself. I didn't want to live anymore, it didn't make sense anyways. I didn't speak for a month and a half. The first person I spoke to was Eta. I told him who did it and I kept quiet again.

Eta informed my mom and the police. But my father went under, and from what I heard, he killed his best friend. And when he re-surfed, he was untouchable. He had lawyers, politicians, and judges on his side to fight the case. My parents tried to fight the law, but the law was too corrupt to be fought. So I tried for the first time, to kill myself that is. I cut my veins, but Eta found me. He got me to the hospital on time, and I survived yet again.

I still wasn't talking. My mom at this point took a new career path, being a lawyer to those wronged by the law. Eta, nor anybody else gave up on me. It took me a total of five months to utter my first words. I was laying in the hospital, after my third suicide attempt. I drank bleach this time, after cutting myself twice to no avail. Still, Eta found me, as he always did, and took me to the hospital yet again, no questions asked.

And when I woke up, he was there, like he always has been. And with my cracked up voice, I whispered,

"Thank you."

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And I guess him always being there gave me life. A reason to hold on just a little longer. And I loved him for it, so much more. So I agreed. I agreed because I was doing this for him. I was living for him, if not myself.

But mostly him.

"I will go." I smiled at him. He smiled back at me, pulling me into a side hug. It was brief, but it held the right emotions. It was him saying he was proud of me. We walked arm in arm, and at that moment, I felt safe, I felt ok.

That is before we parted ways, and he had to go with Eden, and I had to go alone to the office to report my return and get a letter from the dean himself so I can get my assignments and whatever I missed without a hassle.

And the office it was.

Walking in our college leading towards the office was annoying. People were always rushing and pushing, it was just always just too much. These were just one of the many reasons why that I needed time off from this godforsaken place.

I got to the office, greeted Miss Grey, and I sat down. She knew what I came for, and she was just waiting to announce me inside.

Weird.

Who would visit Mr. Luca-Toni Morrison this morning? And yes, we called him his full name as he instructed us to do so. Don't ask why, because I'd also like an explanation as to why? Why the whole darn name?! What are surnames used for if we still going full-on name and surname, what's the point?

I was busy playing with my hands when the guy who was in the office left. I didn't care who he was, until I lifted my head, and saw a familiar figure and laptop bag.

The same I'd seen on Saturday.

Or I think it was. My heart started beating faster, as I tried to put a face on this guy who somehow looked like the Daniel I'd met on Saturday. But that would be a lie. I mean, what are the odds of meeting a guy I met on Saturday at my favorite café, here in school? That would probably be around 0.001 chances, right?!

I shook my head and asked Miss Grey who was this guy that had visited our dear principal.

"Oh, that's your new English teacher hun." Her response was casual and normal. Except I wasn't.

Why were we getting a new English teacher? Was something wrong with Miss Mabel? Was she fired? Was I gone that long that things were just changing for themselves?

As these questions just circulated in my mind, I focused on one thing, finding out who the heck that guy was, and why did he give me familiar vibes.

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