I know I'm posting these really quickly, but I'm just getting a lot of inspiration hahaha...
And, I promise this story IS going somewhere... I wouldn't lead you guys on for no reason at all!
She couldn't keep her eyes open. She felt her head beginning to nod, her eyelids beginning to droop. She was in history class, with Link on her left and some of the council girls surrounding her on other sides. This used to be her favorite class, only because they could chatter excitedly while Mr. Flack droned on, and he was normally so clueless as to what was going on in the back of the classroom that they never got in trouble. Now, she listened as the other girls whispered; their voices low to avoid being overheard by her. She already knew what they were saying; it wasn't hard to figure out. They were talking about her, and she knew it. That was fine; they were completely ignorant of what it felt like to be so afraid all the time. They didn't know what it felt like to be so utterly empty.
It had been two days since the fight she'd had with Velma, and Chip hadn't come back from out of town yet. The first night, the night Corny had found her on that bench, he had taken her home. She could remember the hesitance in his voice as he'd tried to pry her from the bench. She wouldn't budge; she couldn't. It was her attempt to tell him that something was seriously wrong. After several minutes of trying to nudge her up, he'd slid onto the bench beside her, and they'd sat that way for what seemed like hours, no words escaping either of their mouths. Finally, when a light rain had begun to sprinkle down on them, he had slipped his hand into hers, and she let him lead her to his car. He had taken the sweater from her hands and slipped it over her shoulders, protecting her from the cool mist of the rain. He had opened the door for her, and she had climbed in.
They had sat in silence for a few minutes, and then he had cleared his throat.
"I don't understand something, Amber."
She had sat silently in the seat beside him, hugging herself. She wanted to look at him, but couldn't find the strength.
"I don't understand why, if everything is so fine, you would rather spend the night on a park bench than in your own bed." His fingers gripped the steering wheel, though he hadn't even started the car yet. She felt his eyes watching her. She clenched her jaw, desperate not to tell him anything. She was fine. She could convince herself of that; she could convince him of that.
"Corny," she had let herself say his name, her voice breaking, "I just…I just can't." Can't go home, can't tell you why. There were so many different meanings behind her words.
"Can't what?" He had pushed her, for the first time, for more information. He was watching her, and she bit on her lip.
"I just can't talk about it." She couldn't tell him that he had ripped her apart; he would think she was dirty, filthy just like Velma did. He would kick her off the show, she just knew it. "You just wouldn't understand."
"Damnit," he had smacked the steering wheel with his hands, and she had flinched, "Amber, why do you have to be so damned stubborn?"
Because it was all she could do; it was the only way she could protect herself. She had let her eyes go wide, and had kept them focused on her shoes on the floor of the car.
"I'm sorry," his voice had softened, "it's just...you're having trouble staying awake during the show, you haven't been acting the same. I'm just a little worried about you, is all."
A little worried about you, the words echoed in her head now as she let her eyelids droop, her blonde head coming to rest upon her forearm, which was lying flat on her desk. She could see his concerned eyes, the corners of his lips turning into a frown as he had driven her home in silence. The way he had helped her out of the car and up the stairs, and the way she'd held onto him for just a moment too long before entering her house. None of it had gone unnoticed by him.
Her mind began to swarm with the crazy images and ideas that only come with sleep, and she shifted against her desk, inadvertently letting a soft snore slip out. A few of the girls around her began to giggle, and Mr. Flack turned to look at them.
"Excuse me!" His voice was loud, "Miss Von Tussle, this is not naptime."
She pulled herself upright quickly, her face flushing as the students turned to look at her.
"I'm sorry," the words slipped through her lips as she tried to steady herself, and he sighed at her.
"That's the second time you've fallen asleep today." His fingers worked on the tiny notepad beneath him and he ripped a small piece of pink paper from the pad, offering it to her. "Please go visit the principal."
The sick feeling returned to her stomach at his words. Why the principal? Why not detention? The principal always called home. Always. She gathered her books into her arms, taking slow steps to the front of the room.
"Mr. Flack, I'm sorry. Please, you don't understand-" She had never begged him, never even spoken to him unless he'd asked her a direct question. He squinted his beady eyes at her.
"I understand plenty, Miss Von Tussle. I understand that you're sleeping in my class, I understand that you'd obviously love to be anywhere else but here. Principal's office. Now."
She swallowed hard, and tried to ignore the whispers she heard as she turned to the classroom door, dragging her feet as she went out. He didn't understand that she'd rather be at school than home right now. Didn't understand at all.
She was right about the principal; he called Velma as soon as she passed him the note that Mr. Flack had given her, and Amber was banished to the humiliating row of chairs in front of the hallway to wait for her mother. She held her head down for what seemed like hours, waiting, and thanking God that Chip was still out of town. She had been dealing with the wrath of her mother for seventeen years and had only gotten a few smacks from her. She could handle that. She was used to that.
She closed her eyes again, letting her head fall into her hands as she thought about the way Corny had tried to reach out to her, and the way she had pushed him away. He was the only one who seemed genuinely concerned for her, that's was for sure, and it broke her heart to continue to build her defenses against him, but that was all she could do. She knew that if, by some chance, she did tell Corny, he would probably call the police, and they would probably believe Chip over her. And then what? They'd let him go, and he'd come and find her. She had nowhere else to go, and was stuck in that living hell. She was taking her life into her hands by even thinking about it.
When Velma arrived, she rolled her eyes at Amber before speaking with the principal, who said the normal things: disrespectful, distracting. She didn't take his words to heart; Velma herself had called her all of those things growing up. When her mother had finished the discussion, she motioned to Amber with a waggle of her fingers and let her high heels click noisily down the hallway as Amber scurried behind her, clutching her books.
The car ride home was bad, but not nearly as bad as it was to be in the house with Chip. Velma chided her: "How dare you make me leave the studio to come down here." She had berated her, called her names, but that was fine. She let her head rest back against the seat, her eyes closing as the car glided through the streets. As long as she was in this car, she was safe. She knew Velma didn't care that she'd gotten in trouble at school. All that mattered to her was the fact that she'd interrupted her at work, and she'd stop being so angry about it in a few hours. She wasn't afraid of her mother, no matter how cold she could be.
She hadn't tried to mention the incident to Velma again, because there was no use. It would only cause another fight, and it wasn't as if Velma believed her anyway. She had begun to swallow the pain, to keep it hidden from everyone, and it had left a hard spot in her stomach. Each time she wanted to tell someone, she could feel it there, in the lower part of her belly, and she would bite her tongue. It was almost a type of self-preservation.
Velma pulled the car to a stop in front of the house and threw her fingers towards Amber, almost as if she were dismissing her.
"Go on, get out. I've got to get back to work." Amber had barely shut the door after her when Velma squealed away, leaving her in a trail of gray smoke. She sputtered for a moment, and climbed the stairs, letting herself in and dropping her books onto the couch. It was safe now, Chip wasn't here, and her stomach was hungry. She headed to the kitchen and grabbed an apple from the counter, spinning on her heels to retreat to her room, and ran straight into his chest.
He smirked down at her.
"I just got back into town, and your mama told me you been sleepin' in school, girl. You not gettin' enough rest at home?" She felt her body go stiff, and her fingernails dug into the apple. He pushed himself closer to her, "You lock yourself in that damn room twenty-four hours a day. What the hell you doin' in there if you ain't sleepin'?"
She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. She kept her eyes lowered to the ground, her teeth clenching together.
"Answer me," he pushed her hard, and she stumbled back against the kitchen table, smacking the back of her thighs against it. She cried out suddenly, and let the apple fall to the ground. She watched as it landed and rolled to sit right next to his foot. She gasped as he pushed between her legs to stand next to her, his eyes dark as he studied her face.
"You know what else your mama told me?" He looked like he wanted another answer, so Amber shook her head quickly, her breath coming in short, quick gasps. "She told me that you said I….hurt you." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Did I hurt you, girl?"
Amber pressed her teeth into her bottom lip so hard that she tasted copper, and let herself shake her head again.
"N-no." Her voice was trembling; that was all she could say.
"So you lyin' about it?" It wasn't the answer he had wanted, apparently. Amber didn't know how to respond, so she held her breath, watching him. He let his fingers tickle the bare skin on her arm, and grabbed her face suddenly, holding her cheeks tightly with one hand.
"You don't know the meaning of the word hurt," his voice was dripping with malevolence, and Amber felt the familiar pain between her legs again. Her body began to shut down quickly, her mind turning off as she felt the first sob escape from the back of her throat. She quickly lost the sensation in her arms and legs, and felt his breath upon her skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, just like she always did, trying to erase this, block this from happening to her, but of course it wasn't enough.
When he had finished with her, he pushed her into her bedroom. Along with the burning pain between her legs, she could feel the blood trickling down her face, the heaviness underneath her eyes. He had been even more rough this time, there was no denying that. Before she even had the strength to pull herself to the mirror, she knew that she couldn't go to school tomorrow, couldn't be on the show.
She could already tell that it would take more than a fake smile to fool everyone this time, and she wasn't sure if she had the energy, even for that. At that moment, all she could think about, save the throbbing pain between her legs and the heavy swollenness in her face, was how much she wished she were dead.