For The Love Of History

Chapter 12

▪️O C T A V I A▪️

I heaved a sigh as I entered my dorm room.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I began the ritual of taking off my boots, the familiar routine offering a brief respite. Pulling my mobile phone out of my bag, I bit my bottom lip in contemplation, wondering if to message Emily.

"You know she'll worry if you don't!" I scolded myself.

With a heavy sigh, my fingers moved swiftly across the screen of my phone. I typed and erased the words, playing a silent dance on the glowing surface before I finally settled on a simple message.

Octavia:
"I'm back at my dorm safe and sound.
Be sure that you're safe
and use protection 😉
Msg me in the morning."

Despite the simplicity of the text, a wave of conflicting emotions surged within me. I hated the necessity of concealing the truth, but at that moment, preserving Emily's joy took precedence over my own turmoil. After all, there was little she could do to help with the unsettling situation involving Brian—those matters were now in the hands of the campus police.

Emily had quickly answered, after sending her a thumbs up emoticon.

As I looked at her reply, a sense of guilt lingered, but it was eclipsed by the desire to shield my best friend from unnecessary worry. I could not bring myself to burden Emily with the weight of my own struggles. I wanted her to savour the joy and romance that hopefully awaited her tonight with Ejikeme.

"Go get some, Em," I giggled softly while placing my mobile phone on the table.

Taking my time, I began removing my clothes, the weight of the night settling heavily on my shoulders. A deep breath escaped me as I stood before the mirror, clad in nothing but my bra and panties.

While I scrutinized myself in the reflection, I exhaled slowly, acknowledging the strength that echoed in the silhouette staring back at me. My eyes narrowed at the bruise darkening on my face and neck and as my fingers traced the surface, I could not escape the stark evidence of Brian's rough handling.

"Dat blasted muddercunt..." I cursed, the Trini in me shining through.

The angry-looking skin around my neck, darkening in response to his aggression, told a narrative, one of vulnerability and confrontation. In the mirror's reflection, I found not only physical resilience but also a description of emotional strength, a reminder that even in moments of adversity, my spirit remained unbroken.

The unexpected sound of my phone beeping pulled my attention away.

Swiftly, I picked up the device, the notification signalling an incoming chat message. Anticipating another message from Emily, my eyes widened with surprise as I registered that it was, in fact, a message from Professor Graham MacAllister.

The unexpected appearance of his name on my screen introduced a spark of curiosity. I had not really expected him to follow through on his promise to message when he got home. As I opened the chat application, I found myself intrigued by the prospect of what words from the professor awaited me.

His display picture showcased an ancient castle nestled against the backdrop of Dunaverty. The weathered stones of the fortress stood resilient against the passage of time, each turret and battlement telling tales of a bygone era. The castle, framed by the hues of history, commanded a presence that echoed with the weight of centuries, captivating the imagination with its enduring grandeur.

The sight of his incoming message immediately transformed my entire mood, and a broad smile graced my lips, casting aside the shadows of the last few hours.