Abused-Human kindness too..

Once I lived on this Island that was completely self contained, we had our own schools, stores, several neighborhoods, a pleasant place to grow up. It was kind of nice have our school right across the street from where we lived, because we never had to ride the bus. The problem was living across from the school gave me a time limit, of how long it took me to go or get home. My Step father would sit with binoculars watching out the window to see that I wasn't talking to the boys, ... or girls, for that fact! He would become totally enraged at the very site of me speaking to anyone before, or after school, and if I was one minute late, Heaven help me, because  the moment I walked in the door, I was punched in the face and kicked to the floor. WHO WERE YOU TALKING TOO!!!? Was screamed in my face, not really having my bearings I would respond no-one! With a few more blows about the head and face, and a few more kicks to the gut, I would answer, just class mates no one special, just to make the beating stop. He would shout, I SAW YOU, who was the boy, or girl depending on the day? He too, lived in fear that one day I would make a friend, and tell his torrid secret.
   The school was one level, and had big glass windows, you could see into the class rooms if you used the binoculars, and if you knew where the classes were, you could get vision of everything going on in the room, pretty weird, isn't it? So you can imagine how I felt day to day wondering, was he watching me, living in constant fear that if I talked to anyone, I would be found out, and severely beaten when my returned home. I used  to go to the auditorium or behind the girls lockers, just to talk with class mates, so I wouldn't have to suffer the consequences of not following his orders. One day one of the seniors boys asked me to the prom, we knew each other from drama class, he was shy, but very nice, and noble too. He asked me at school about the prom, and I told him I would never be allowed to go, and thanked for asking. So the boy being noble, with his red hair and freckles, decided to come to my door and ask my parents for himself.  When I answered the door and saw who it was, every ounce of color drained from my face, my stepfather pushed me aside and asked the young man what he wanted, the poor guy didn't get two words from his mouth, before the answer was, NO!, she isn't allowed to date, and he slammed the door on him. I began to tremble as I knew what was coming next, grabbing the extension cord he began to beat me repeatedly, screaming at me that I have betrayed his trust. This went on for what seemed hours. Just another day in hell for me, I never knew the true joys of friendships or any kind of relationships with my peers, it was not permitted and I was kept like a prisoner with no way out.
  Word got out around school of the incident at my door that day, no doubt the boy was pretty upset at the ordeal himself. I wore turtle neck long, sleeve sweaters the rest of that week to hide the cuts on my skin.  One day, my science teacher, told me she wanted to see me after class. I didn't think much of it at the time, so when class was over I stayed to talk with her,  she had soft short black hair a soft voice, and her leg in a cast from a skiing accident, if memory serves me correctly, she walked slowly towards me and  tried to give me a hug, and I jumped to my feet and scrambled back a bit.  She at first was startled at my reaction, and then her eyes began to well with tears, as she saw the horror on my face at being touched, she quickly said; no, I won't hurt you I promise, I just want to talk with you. She said she had heard the rumors about the school and was very concerned about me.  I quickly told her no... I was just fine not to worry, she began asking me questions about the sores on my neck, she said she saw them when I was reading my book, I explained it was just a scratches, that it was no big deal, I just couldn't reveal the secret, if I did, he would surely find out and kill me.
  This teacher was the first person in my life that ever cared enough to even ask, she saw the signs of an abused child and showed me a bit of human kindness that I had never known before. Even though I couldn't tell her anything, out of fear of my abuser,  that kindness to this day, has always touched and warmed my heart, and still manages to bring tears to my eyes when I think of her. I will never forget her, she was a person who had a special way with kids, and she shared a bit of human kindness with me.
  Teachers you can, and you do make a difference, the life of an abused child is devastatingly cruel, and you can't begin to imagine how it feels unless you were there. Just a touch or any eye of understanding is all you need to give one moment of peace in that child's troubled soul. The peace in my soul was taken from me, I didn't give it away, it was stolen. Now I am taking back my peace. Thank you teacher where ever you are.