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I think that entire scene was VITAL to the story, and you could have even pushed it a little farther. I would like to see more interaction between Ebony and the Father after the experience though.
Sometimes, if tastefully done, sex can add to the story.

Morez. Stat.

Third Chapter: Az and I

Azreal put out his hand and I stared at it for a moment before I shakily grabbed it and stood up. He watched as I tucked in my shirt and brushed myself off, never letting go of my keys.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

I started to nod and stopped. “No…why were you following me?”

“Well, usually when old men keep following teenage girls like that, something’s not right.”

I attempted a smile. Azreal asked to walk me home and although I really didn’t want to deal with anymore men, he insisted, and since it was probably safer to walk with someone than to walk alone, I allowed it. I let him walk with me up to the corner where the main street turned into my neighborhood and told him that was far enough, no offence but I didn’t want him to know where I lived. He said he understood and took out a small card, scribbled something on the back and shoved it into my hand.

“Bye, Ebony.”

“Bye.” The first thing I heard when I came through the door of my house was the clang of a lid on pot and my mother’s voice.

“Ebony, where have you been? I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Yeah, you should have been.

My mother came around the corner and I realized my shirt was still halfway tucked in and I had yet to remove the cross from its place under my skirt.

“Ebony, are you okay? Ebby?” I contemplated whether or not to tell my mother I had just been assaulted by my headmaster and decided to take the chance, what was the worst that could happen?

“No…no, I’m not okay,” I shook my head slightly.

“What happened?” She had a look of concern on her face as she made her way across the room towards me.

“I was…” how do you word it? “Attacked.”

“Attacked? By who? What happened?” I could almost feel her heart rate raise.

“I was walking home from school and he followed me and…” I looked down.

“Ebony, who did this to you?” I felt the tears well up in my eyes and roll down my cheeks and soon my mother had her arms around me. “Ebony, who did this to you?” She asked again.

Tell her, tell her.

She hugged me tighter.

Tell her.

She asked again, choking on her words, “Who did it, Ebby? Who did it to
you?”

Tell her.

The words were caught in my throat, I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t speak. Finally, I let out in a whisper;

“Father John.” I felt her body leave mine and she put her hands on my shoulders. I looked up through my tears and stared her right in the eyes.

“Ebony, that’s not funny, who did this to you?”

Maybe she didn’t hear me right?

“Father John,” I repeated somewhat more clearly.

“Ebony, stop kidding around and tell me who did this to you!”

“Father John! Father John! It was Father John!” I screamed. “Why won’t you believe me?” I threw her hands off of my shoulders and curled up into a ball on the carpet.

“Father John is a good man, you can’t blame this on him!” She kneeled down next to me as I sobbed into my hands and tried again to comfort me, but I backed away from her like she was something contagious. “I want to know who did this to you, Ebony, I want to help you!”

“No, you don’t! You don’t give a s**t! You don’t believe me!”

“Ebony-”

“No!” I didn’t want to hear anymore. I guess that was the worst that could have happened.

Why did I even try? Why do I even bother?

My mother stayed with me for a few minutes more, not saying a word, then left me there on the floor to feel sorry for myself. Eventually, the tears stopped coming and I caught my breath again. I could hear my mother in the kitchen on the phone making some sort of appointment for me with a doctor.

What’s the point? They won’t find anything.

I stood up and went upstairs to take a shower; I wanted nothing more to do with anyone, I wanted to be left completely alone forever.

The next day, Mother didn’t make me go to school, she didn’t even come to wake me up when the clock ticked past 6:45 and I still hadn’t gone downstairs. When she left for work I ventured down into the kitchen for some sort of food and found a note on the table;

Ebby,
There’s cereal in the cupboard and bread in the pantry. Call me before you go anywhere. I should be home by 5.
Mom xoxo

I wouldn’t call her for anything, and I wasn’t planning on leaving the house for at least the rest of the week. I watched TV until noon then got bored and went in search of the CD’s my mother had taken hostage. At around two the phone started to ring and awoke me from a shallow sleep.

“Hello?” I said groggily.

“Hello, Ebony, how-” I hung up.

“Freaky weird ***** cocksucker…” I mumbled into a pillow. Barely a minute passed and the phone started ringing again so I unplugged it. I slept for the rest of the day after that until my mother returned home at 5:30. When I went downstairs for dinner there were two more pamphlets awaiting me; Spiritual Therapy through The Bible, and Telling the Truth and Why It’s Hard.

Thanks. I leave off letters a lot and don't realize it.

What do you mean by the professional part? xp

Yeah, and I probably wouldn't use it in actual writing...it just would have no purpose. I'll post more soon.

All I can see is the misuse of ellipses. heart
Otherwise, I love the dialogue, and the characterization.
I agree. POST MORE!!!

The next morning I decided I was ‘well’ enough to go to work, but my mother insisted that I let her drive me to and from instead of riding the bus. I didn’t disagree; even my mother was better than public transportation. Although, I did get the whole ‘parental trust and safety over children’ lecture.

Sitting at work in my cubicle, I knew the times when my boss would make his daily rounds, they’d been at the same time everyday for as long as I’d worked there. He did them because, in all actuality, no one had any reason to be there, but he wanted to make sure they were doing something other than sleeping or making pen darts. So, in between the 10:07 and 11:32 checks, I surfed the web, made one or two attempts at work, and rearranged my desk three times in an effort to stop thinking about John and Azreal. Why Azreal? He was cute, adorable, and saved my life, but he was still a freak and I needed to concentrate on something else.

As I was looking through my purse for gum between the 1:55 and 2:20 checks, I ran my finger over something thin and sharp. I yelped a little and pulled my hand back out to examine the injury. It was a small cut that covered the top part of my pointer finger, but it felt like my purse had mauled me and was bleeding everywhere. I put my hand back in my purse and carefully searched for the culprit. I pulled out a small white business card with a dark red corner and a number scribbled on the back. On the front all it said was:



I stared at the card, trying to guess at what kind of person he was, and contemplating whether to not to call.

He seems full of himself.

I think he likes me.

So what?

Call him, you know you want to.

My hand reached for the phone.

Stop! He’s a freak!

He saved me! I should thank him!

You already did.

So what? Call him, humor him, you want to do it, you know you do.

No, I don’t!

Too late, I was already dialing the number.

He won’t answer, you’re calling from a telemarketing agency.

So? He won’t know who it is then, maybe I’ll be able to spare myself some dignity.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Uh…” Sorry, I forgot I was on the phone, can I call you back and try again? “Hello. Is Azreal there?”

“Speaking,” he sounded annoyed.

“Oh, hi Az, this is Ebony,” I said hesitantly.

“Ebony?” I heard movement in the background. “It says you’re a long distance call.”

“Yeah, I’m calling from work.”

“Ah, I see,” he said. He didn’t say it in an offensive way, he sounded more confused than anything.

“Yeah, um, anyhow, I was just calling to thank you for helping me and all.”

“Not a problem, I’m glad I could help.” I smiled, sort of, even though he couldn’t see it.

“I was trying to think of a way to repay you, though. I feel like I need to
do something.”

“No, really, it’s okay.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well…” there was a pause. “Okay, how about we meet up somewhere?” He suggested.

Meet up?

“I dunno…I don’t think I should,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just…I don’t know you very well, and you sort of creep me out. I mean, not to be rude, but you were waiting outside my school for a few weeks with no real purpose, and you just so happened to save me from getting raped,” I lowered my voice at that point as to not draw attention to myself. “My friend is kind of iffy about you, and my mom really wouldn’t want me seeing you, and…I don’t know. I just don’t know if I can trust you or not.”

“I understand.”

Why am I telling you all this?

I really like you.

Take a chance.

And what? Get raped? Kidnapped?

There was another moment of silence between us and I could hear the person talking in the cell next to mine.

“Why don’t we meet up in somewhere public?” I asked.

“Like a park?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, do you know where Grandview Park is?”

“Yeah," I replied questioningly. Why a park? “Would you want to meet up there sometime?”

“I’d love to.” You know how they say that you can hear people when they’re smiling? Azreal was smiling.

“Okay, when?” Was that excitement I heard in my voice?

“When do you have time?” He asked.

I had no idea. I had to go to school the next day, and if I missed more than two periods after mass then they would call home.

“Uh…tomorrow morning?” I could skip mass.

“Okay, what time?”

“Ten to noon?”

“Okay, sounds good. Is Grandview Park close enough?”

“Yeah…sure.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you by the jungle gym," he told me.

“Kay…?”

“Bye, Ebony, have a nice day.”

“You, too.” Click.

The jungle gym? Wow, Eb, you sure know how to pick ‘em

Thank you. I didn't really like this section, but I needed it to lead into the part after it, and so I was pretty much forced to write it. I'll go through and clarify it.