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Amos carefully got of her bed, as if any big movements would create more harm towards her. “Don’t give me that crap, Teeny,” he said quietly, but with force. His dark brown eyes poured into her own as if he was searching deep inside of them for the truth. “Why are you covered in sweat? What are you afraid of? And why do you have the big, purple bruise on your arm?”
"Yes, what?” he asks as he continues to apply pressure on her wrist, a bruise already beginning to form. Another day, another bruise; she really hopes Amos won’t notice this one.
“I don’t believe you,” Emilie stated simply as she watched Christine carefully, before taking a bite of her chicken. She chewed and then sat the food back on the plate before turning to Christine. “Is something wrong? Do you feel okay?” she asked, concerned.
She did not want another person to see her with these bruises, to know that she could do nothing to protect herself from the one boy who was hurting her so bad. She wanted all of the pain, the hiding from her friends and brother, to stop. She wanted to escape, but she couldn’t; she was trapped. She felt so alone, so lost in her solitude, but she felt so helpless, so confused, so hurt.
“Teeny,” he begins again, but she pulls back, shaking her head one last time and walked away. “Teeny,” he calls louder down the hall at her. “Christine!” but she continues walking down the hall, completely ignoring him. “Damn it,” he mutters, before banging his fist on the wall beside him.
She looked at him oddly, before pulling her wrist away from him. ‘Great, another person on my back about these stupid bruises,’ she thought as she pulled her arms across her chest, again. “There nothing,” she spoke, “and beside, it is not like it is any of your business anyways, so please, just leave me alone,” she finished, before turning on her heel and continuing to walk back to the castle.
Lily and Emilie exchanged frightened looks. “We don’t know. She won’t tell us,” Emilie finally stated as she looked at the nurse. Her voice was so small and scared as she spoke.
"Tell you what?" She is acting like a child; a child who knows exactly what you want and yet plays dumb and refuses to give it to you, in hopes that they can avoid the confrontation as long as possible.
Christine inwardly groans. “I’m not sure that’s necessary; see my Dad already gave me ‘the talk,’ and so did my brother right after I started going out with my boyfriend. Actually come to think of it, I think you gave me ‘the talk,’ too, so you see, we really don’t need to have this conversation,” Christine tries to explain to the boy before her.
Remus looks at her shocked. “Surely,” he began. “Surely you do not think it is Sirius, who is hurting her, do you?” There is know way it was his friend. Sirius Black would never ever hurt a girl in any way. Never would Sirius hit a girl, let alone do something that gave a girl bruises and put fear in her heart. Sirius Black certainly had an affect on girls' hearts, but it never had anything to do with fear.
His mouth leaves her own, trailing kisses up her checks until it reaches her ear, his breath tickling her ear as he speaks into it, "perhaps we should go somewhere a little more private..." he whispers, seductively.
On the coffee table in front of her lies an elegant black rose; every petal in its perfect place; every leave spaced perfectly apart; and every thorn waiting to slice its victim. She stares at it; hating it; wanting so badly to just destroy it. Why would she want this? He gave to her. Why would she want anything that he gave her?
Sirius is mistaken; or lying; confused. He doesn’t know what he is talking about. How dare he even suggest such a thing!
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