I figured I owed you guys an explanation of why I have been gone for so long. This is my story (with some slight creative adjustments) and how I rationalized my one year hiatus. After reading this fic, I hope you'll understand why I needed to take a break from my material.


She didn't know it was possible for something to hurt quite so bad. The shame, it ought to be beyond human comprehension. It wasn't as if some random guy had just dragged her off the street, this was her boyfriend, her high school sweetheart.

She wanted it to stop.

It was all she could think about as she clumsily clung onto the barrel of her service weapon. For Christ's sake, she was a cop. Its not like she didn't know what was going on, couldn't recognize the signs, couldn't defend herself if she needed to.

Except she didn't need to.

This was her boyfriend. He would never hurt her.

At least that's what she told herself.

So when he put his hands on her and she asked him to stop, she assumed he couldn't hear her.

Because he didn't stop.

And when he pinned her against the inside of the car door and she told him to get off of her, she assumed he hadn't understood her request.

Because she couldn't move.

So, when he stuck his fingers inside her, and she had to bite her lip to keep from screaming, she assumed it was her fault.

She hadn't been clear.

All these assumptions, her assumptions, justified it.

So when he pinned her down and pried her legs apart, she didn't move. She let him do what he wanted and tried to remember how it was supposed to feel. She tried to remember how loving he could be. She tried to remember how gentle he had been, how he held her, told her she was beautiful.

But it didn't work.

Nothing worked.

And she couldn't stop it, on and on and on and on, time and time again.

She wanted to die. Almost a year had gone by, a year he had been doing this to her. She felt like a hypocrite. How could she put on that badge and claim to stand for justice when she knew what was going on inside her own home?

She didn't deserve to be a cop. She didn't deserve that false sense of power because clearly she had none.

She pulled back the hammer and heard the gun click.

She looked at herself in the mirror and sobbed. Hickeys littered her skin, bruises on her face.

She tried with everything to hold back her cries because it made her mouth hurt and he had just dislocated her jaw.

Again she sobbed.

He hadn't hit her that time. His hands were massive and wrapped around her head as he pulled her to him. Tears stung her eyes. She opened her mouth, his vice not giving her a choice.

Her hands balled at her sides, its not like she would use them anyway. She knew she couldn't. She'd never win. She was weak.

She placed the gun to her head

God, it was so awful and she just couldn't do it anymore. She could feel the bile rising in her throat and she tried to pull her head away. He wouldn't budge. Instead he forced himself further into her.

Her hands were on his thighs now, pushing herself up.

Still he wouldn't let up.

She tried to tell him she couldn't take anymore, that any second now a river of disgust would spill out from her.

She pulled.

He squeezed.

She felt an explosion of pain rip through her as her jaw was knocked off its hinge.

She closed her eyes. The gun in her hand was suddenly very very real and she could taste sweet relief, an end to this nightmare she was living in.

Her legs shook and her breathing was labored.

She was so close, so unbelievably close.

"Rollins"

The sound of her name snapped her back into her new reality. She looked up at Olivia and smiled as the older detective placed a cup of coffee on her desk.

"You know, I'm pretty sure you'll start to bleed caffeine if you keep drinking coffee at this rate."

Amanda smiled. "Well unless you want me passing out on this desk, I better keep drinking."

Olivia quirked her head. "Not sleeping?"

Rollins gave a quick no with the turn of her head and took a sip of her coffee.

"Something on your mind?"

Amanda paused at the question and chose her words carefully. "Its been about thirteen years since I've been back home, anniversary is coming up."

Olivia gave her friend a sympathetic look. "Homesick?"

She grabbed her carry-on and stepped onto the gate leading into the plane. She would never come back to this place. She felt like a coward for running, for letting him win. What could she do?

She couldn't tell her friends, her coworkers, her family. The shame of it all.

The fucking shame of going against everything she had been told, everything she had said herself.

No, she would leave and that would be the end of it. She would never tell a soul and never return. Her heart was heavy at the thought of what would happen when he woke up.

Would he go after her? Would he go after the ones she loved? Would he just forget about her and move on to someone else.

Someone else.

Some poor innocent girl that she could have protected had she just had the fucking guts to tell.

She wondered if anyone would have listened to her anyway.

Its not as if she had. When his ex had sobbingly told her story, of what that monster had done to her she just shook it off. They had been together for years and the young officer couldn't understand why someone would stay with an abuser.

God, she was so stupid. She deserved everything that had happened to her.

All of it.

"Rollins", Olivia said again, concerned. "You homesick?"

The blonde just shook her head. "No."


I'm working on Wildfire right now, but it will have to be at my own pace. Writing is an escape for me and it is difficult sometimes to write about the topics I try to keep my mind off of. That being said, I still love writing and will try not to keep you waiting another year. Also, as much as I love reviews (hint hint) please keep them about the literature and not my own personal story.

Taking one-shot requests.