VIRAGO

latibule

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latibule (n.) - a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort

Samantha woke the next morning confused, as if she had dreamed the entire ordeal from early on that morning. She looked at the time and saw it was around eight in the morning. She was still exhausted, but she did not want to stay any longer than needed. She sat up, pain rupturing through her body. It was not as bad as it had been, but she was still sore, and it did not feel great. She swung her legs out from under the comforter and stood, using the bed for support. She walked out of the room, smelling coffee being brewed in the kitchen. She heard little meows of the cats and she heard Ms. Gordon humming around the kitchen.

"Good morning." Samantha greeted softly, scaring her slightly.

"Oh my, I didn't think you'd be up so early." She said, taking a deep breath.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She responded as she was beckoned to sit down at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee being set down in front of her. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. How'd you sleep, how are you feeling?" Ms. Gordon questioned as she sat back down.

"I slept alright, as good as can be. Feeling a little better but not much." She said, taking a small sip of the coffee.

"We need to talk, you know." She said a few moments later, and Samantha nodded. "How long has he been abusing you?" She asked point blank.

"It was all verbal after my mom died, but he didn't start physically abusing me until we moved here." She sighed, knowing that she needed to know. She was going to become her outcry witness, so she had to know the details.

"What happened last night?" She asked.

"Dinner wasn't ready when he walked in the door, so when I held his plate out to him, he smacked it down and shoved me hard into the countertop, then pushed me to the ground and kicked me in the side. He went on a rampage, threw plates everywhere and then he left. I got out of there right after." She explained to her, sipping more of her coffee. She had been staring at the mug the entire time, but now she looked up, seeing Ms. Gordon's face in pure horror. "Please don't look at me like that. I already hate that I'm telling you this."

"But I'm glad you are. You can't go through this alone." Dana responded, reaching across the table and holding her hand. "Listen, ever since you sat down in my class, I've felt some sort of connection with you. I don't know what it is, but I believe everything happens for a reason. With that being said, I've been looking for a roommate so this place isn't so lonely. No one has to know so neither one of us is under fire, but I want you to know you're not alone in this. I've been where you are, and you need people behind you." She explained to her, and Samantha instantly looked up.

"You have?" She asked softly.

"When I was your age, I had a bad boy boyfriend, and we dated for a year before he started verbally abusing me, then it got physical. The first time he slapped me, I didn't know how to react, I thought it was a joke. The next time he broke my nose and he got arrested because I had the right people behind me, and I know you're new here and don't have a lot of people in your corner, so I want to be here for you." Dana said, but she shook her head.

"I can't pay you. I couldn't impose on you like that." She answered, still shaking her head.

"Sam, I offered for you to stay with me. If it keeps you away from the man that is supposed to be your number one supporter, the man who is beating you daily, then so be it. I don't want money, I just want you safe." She told her, trying to convince her to stay. "You know what? Think about it while we go pack up your campsite."