November 10th, Freshman Year
I walked to Clyde's dorm, my failed test results burning a hole in my pocket.
"Hey, Clyde," I said, handing him the paper.
He scanned it, his eyes widening.
"Dahlia, you passed everything," he exclaimed.
I shook my head.
"No, I didn't. Professor Thompson said—"
Clyde's expression turned skeptical.
"Let me see this."
He grabbed his phone and dialed Professor Thompson's number.
"Hi, Professor Thompson? It's Clyde Grey. I'm looking at Dahlia's test results, and it says she passed... Yeah, I understand. Thanks."
Clyde hung up.
"Dahlia, Professor Thompson made a mistake. You aced that test."
I felt a mix of relief and anger.
Tonight, I'd confront Professor Thompson.
I stood outside his office, heart pounding.
The door creaked open.
Professor Thompson smiled, his eyes gleaming.
"Ah, Dahlia. Come in."
I stepped inside.
"Professor Thompson, I need to talk to you about my test results."
He chuckled.
"Ah, yes. The little mistake."
His grin sent shivers down my spine.
He walked closer, his eyes locked on mine.
"I wanted something more than just a passing grade, Dahlia."
My skin crawled.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
He caressed my face.
"I want you."
I jerked back.
"That's improper. I don't want that."
Professor Thompson's smile twisted.
"You don't have a choice."
I turned to leave.
"I'll have you reported."
Professor Thompson laughed.
"I don't think so."
I reached for the door handle.
It wouldn't budge.
I was trapped.
"Let me go!" I shouted.
Professor Thompson's eyes gleamed.
"You're not going anywhere."
---
November 10th, Freshman Year
The darkness seemed to close in around me as Professor Thompson's grip tightened. His hot breath wafted against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.
"Your resistance only excites me," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice.
I struggled to break free, but his grasp was unyielding. Tears streamed down my face as he undressed, his eyes never leaving mine.
"No, please," I begged, my voice trembling.
But he didn't stop.
He stroked himself, his twisted smile gleaming in the dim light. I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.
Professor Thompson grabbed me, shoving me to the ground. My top tore, leaving me exposed and vulnerable.
Just as all hope seemed lost, the door burst open. Clyde charged in, his face a mask of fury.
"You're sick," he growled, his fists flying.
Professor Thompson stumbled back, blood streaming from his nose. Clyde's eyes locked onto mine, filled with concern.
"Get out, Dahlia," he shouted.
But I was frozen, paralyzed by fear and shock. Clyde rushed to my side, his eyes scanning my body.
Without hesitation, he hugged me tightly, shielding me from view. Then, he quickly removed his suit jacket and wrapped it around me.
"Cover up," he whispered, his voice soft.
I clutched the jacket, grateful for the warmth and protection it offered.
Clyde's gaze never left Professor Thompson.
"You'll pay for this," Clyde vowed, his voice dripping with menace.
With one final punch, Clyde sent Professor Thompson crashing to the floor.
"Dahlia, come on," Clyde said gently.
I followed, still shaken.
Outside, Clyde guided me to his car, his arm wrapped protectively around me.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Someplace safe," Clyde replied.
As we drove, Clyde's hand found mine.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
Tears streamed down my face.
"Thank you," I whispered back.
Clyde's grip tightened.
"I'll never let anyone hurt you again."
The city lights blurred outside, but Clyde's words stayed with me.
I felt safe.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity.
---