I carried her up to my apartment and that is where she cried herself to sleep...I sat in the living room and couldn't stop myself from staring at her as she slept so peacefully. I had a glass of wine that night knowing what I had just discovered was the reality in this world. Some girls can be like Victoria and as free and lucky as she and some girls are like this one in front of me, barred and separated from the world. I skipped out of the work the next day and waited for her to wake.
In the kitchen I started to make breakfast. Scrambled eggs with Canadian bacon and a side piece of toast. As i cooked I wondered what do I say to this girl? What will she say to me? How did she get those bruises?
Time went by so slowly as countless amounts of questions roamed in my mind. "TING" the toast was done and as i walked to the toaster, there she was with my jacket over her looking back at me through the doorway. I was speechless in the moment as I was unprepared for the moment. And in a moment of awkwardness I hear the squeak of her voice saying "thank you." I just sighed and motioned for her to sit down.
I placed a plate of food in front of her and she stared at it before looking back at me with a overjoyed smile. She ate so carefully to savor every bit, it was almost as if she had not eaten the food prepared for her before. I sat across from her with a cup of coffee and a biscuit. Still i was clueless on what to say.
Finally I asked "what's your name?" She stopped eating, picked up the napkin beside her plate and wipe her mouth so gently. "My name is Alana," she said "I got these bruises...when i fell down the stairs." I knew she was lying from what she told me and how she said it. "How old are you?" She took a sip of the orange juice i placed next to her and said "I am 20 years old."
I was in shock of her age as she looked more of a twelve year old then someone close to my age. But she proved it to me when she gave me her ID card. ALANA LINEBRINK it said she lived down the block from me, i asked her if she wanted to go home but she just stuffed her mouth and mumbled through her words. She went to the bathroom after breakfast to try to put herself together again as I washed the dishes. I wanted...no...needed to ask her for the truth. I ran through it in my mind over and over and over again but I was still so frightened to ask her. I figured the best way was to ask her for a straight answer and hopefully she will give me something I can work with.
She came out from the bathroom and only then did I see the innocence in her face and the deepness in her eyes. Looking into her eyes was like reading a story that would never end. It was...hypnotizing. I couldn't bare to see her run if I asked her about her bruises again. I was afraid for her life. So instead i took her for a walk, I asked her about who she was and she was very opened about the things she told me, but the incident was always so elusive.
She was an artist who lived with her boyfriend and she study the art of Picasso in college. She was amazed on the lines and colors of his work. She was very passionate about the arts, I knew she was very much in love with everything and anything about it.
At the end of the day i asked her what would she do now? And she just smiled and said she would be okay. She told me that if she was ever in trouble, she would know what stoop to sit on. I stood there as she walked off into the night with a new jump in her step, but for some reason I felt it in my bones that this was not the last I would see of this girl...
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