I force myself to take deep, slow breathes as I take stock of my injuries. I feel pretty lucky this time, almost positive that I have escaped her rath without braking another bone. My abdomen is in agony and I'm pretty sure my mama's just given me another black eye and split lip.
I groan in frustration, at 24 years old you'd think I'd be able to escape my mama's relentless torment by now. But here I am lying curled up in the corner of my mama's dinning room floor trying to stop myself from crying. I cannot believe I'm still stuck here, under her roof and her rule but realistically as a 24 year old scholarship college student in my final year of an English diploma, working a part time job at a cafe I cant afford my own apartment, especially when mama keeps all the money I earn. Besides even if I could afford it she would never allow me to leave. She's never allowed me to leave. Her control over my life is ever present.
I glance up at the clock and sigh. I have to be in class in half an hour and with it being my final year I cant afford to miss a day. I'm just relieved that my class mates tend to leave me alone and with the ever present substitute professors taking the class there is little chance of me being questioned on the bruises. With the Professors rarely ever taking us for more than one class means that they won't start being suspicious of the bruises that never seam to fade from my body.
I drag myself of the floor and into the shower. Glad that mama is finally passed out drunk in her room and won't be awake to give me another beating before I can get myself out of the apartment. Once I'm ready I leave without any delay, desperate to be free from this hell hole weve called home for the past 5 years ever since daddy left and mama upped and moved us from Georgia, Atlanta to the shadiest part of New York.
I arrive outside the lecture hall only 20 minutes late and silently make my way inside. I dont even look toward the professor as I slip into the furthest seat away from the front. Chosing to sit in the back row of the classroom to avoid any curious glances and significantly reducing the risk of anyone spotting the fresh bruise I know is lining my eyes.
I force myself to concentrate on the professor as she discusses the importance of victorian literature. Looking up at the professor, my heart comes to a sudden stop momantarily and my stomach flips. Its her.
Professor Olivia Benson, dark brown shoulder length hair falling gracefully down her shoulders. Her to die for curves accentuated by the dark blue blouse and black dress pants shes wearing. If I wasn't so worried I'd actually be able to appreciate her beauty a little more but quite frankly I'm terrified. Benson has taken our class twice now and I know that if she has noticed me she can't have failed to have noticed that both times my face has been more than one shade of purple.
Her gaze locking with mine snaps me out of my inner ramblings, she's set us a task and I've missed most of what she said but I know she sees me. Her curious and concerned brown eyes haven't left mine in the past 30 seconds and I'm certain she can see the panic in my eyes.
I drag my eyes away from her and glance to my left. Realising that Fin, someone I'd consider one of my only friends is two seats away from me. "What are we meant to be doing" leaning over the empty seat to whisper in his ear.
"Picking a book from the victorian era to read and write about for the mid term report" he whispers back. Giving me a sympathetic smile. Fin knows about my mama. He's the only one who does know and I know he wont tell anyone about it. He's been my friend for as long as I've been in New York and he would never betray my trust by telling. "Your mama in a mood" he whispers gesturing to my face. I nod in reply. "Whats with us having the same prof" I whisper back changing the subject. "She's filled the position, gonna have her permanent now baby girl" he tells me and offers me a sympathetic pat on the arm. Fin knows me well enough to know the implied meaning behind my words. Knowing fine well that with a permanent college professor taking our class every day, the risk of curious questions and concern have heightened.
Fin glances up behind me and quickly turns away, alerting me to a presence behind me. I follow his gaze, turning slightly i come face to face with none other than Professor Benson, standing barely a foot away from me. Her kind brown eyes studying me with nothing but concern. Seeing her this close, her beautiful features tense and her sandlewood and vanilla scented perfume filling my nostrils causes my breath to hitch in a sudden wave of arousal. There's no denying it Olivia Benson is breathe taking and I don't ever want to look away.
"Amanda, stay behind at the end of lesson please" she commands softly before walking back towards the front of the class. Despite the gentle tone her fierce gaze and the hand she places on my shoulder briefly tell me that I have little choice but to comply.
By the time class is over I feel like a quivering ball of nerves. Torn between my sudden attraction to my professor and my need to run far from her curious gaze and blatant concern. In some ways its nice to know someone has noticed but the implications of talking, of telling the truth about whats going on and my mama finding out are far to terrifying for me to even consider at this moment.
I barely process Fins brief squeeze of my shoulder and muttered "good luck" as he passed me following the rest of my class out of the room.
It doesn't take long before Benson and I are the only two left and my heart is racing as she makes her way towards me, perching on a chair she's dragged across from the desk infront of me. She studies me for a moment and I look away unable to meet her intense gaze as she focuses on my face. I dont know this woman but something warns me that shes not the type to let things go nor the type who is easily kept in the dark and I'm terrified of the truths that lies behind my suddenly glazed baby blue eyes.
"Amanda.." she murmurs leaning in close, dipping her head to try and catch my eyes. I turn my head away. "Amanda" she tries again, reaching out and taking my hand in hers. "I know we don't know each other but can you tell me what happened to you? Why is your face covered in bruises?"
"Nothing happened" I reply defensively. "Just clumsy is all"
"You can trust me, i can help you" she whispers sincerely.
"I dont need help" I snap, snatching my hand from hers. I stand up and gather my belongings. "Im fine" I say. Trying to lace confidence into my tone to make myself sound more believable. I dont want her questions, I don't want to believe her or except her help because the thought of trusting anyone else with this is terrifying and I can't let myself be that vulnerable.
She grabs my hand and places a small piece of paper into my palm, curling my fingers around it before releasing me again.
"Okay you're fine, but Amanda? If you need anything call that number and I'll be there. It doesnt matter what time it is" she says. Stepping back from me and striding back towards the front of the room.
I rush out, unable to hold back the tears as I make my way outside and far away from her intense gaze. I dont know why her questions have got to me so much. I'm used to fending of curious people without breaking down. All I know is that she got to me and it scares me.
I quickly type her number into my phone and toss the paper that held it in the bin. I dont know why I've saved it or if I'll ever use it but i know she meant it when she said I could trust her. Despite this I resolve to keep away from her and avoid her asl much as possible as I make my way back towards my mama's and the promise of yet another night ill spend sleeping on an old mattress on the floor of my sisters bedroom.
