12 Rounds by Lauren Hammond

to distract myself from thinking about something. Right now I'd like to stop thinking about Sean and his darkened yet lovely blue green eyes.
    Melissa breaks the silence by clearing her throat and I tuck my hands under my thighs, meeting her gaze dead on. “Are you feeling better?” Her feminine tone is laced with worry. “Believe me, I had no intentions of startling you like that or thought that this might be too difficult for you to handle.”
    I release a gust of air that I've been holding in since I came into the room. “I'm feeling better, thank you. I know you didn't know. I'm really sorry. There are certain things that I feel trigger horrifying memories of my past and what you did, you know coming at me from behind like that, well, it did it. It made me relive the reason why I'm in this class in the first place.”
    Melissa nods. “I see.” She pushes up off her feet. “Stand up. I need to show you something.” I remain seated and she motions for me to get up. I stand slowly, eyes still on Melissa as she lifts up her shirt. Across the entire length of her stomach is a scar. It's a mixture of purple and pink in color, bumpy, raised, and stretches from just below her breastbone to her hip. My mouth drops open and I gape at it. “Go ahead,” she tells me. “Touch it.”
    Part of me thinks that her wanting me to touch her stomach is awkward, but there is a bigger part of me that wants to touch her scar. I guess the curious part of me smothers the logical part of me and as I fan my fingertips across part of the purplish raised skin, I instantly pull my hand back at the feel of it. The scar is smooth yet bumpy in places and the contrasting texture doesn't feel right. Remorse tugs at my insides and as Melissa lowers her shirt, I whisper, “What happened to you?”
    Melissa sits back down and I follow her lead. “More like who happened to me.” Her voice is low and there's a slight quiver and I can tell she's holding her emotions back. “Satine is a good friend of mine and while she couldn't tell me what happened to you because of doctor and patient confidentiality, she did tell me that you've been through something extremely traumatic in the last year.” Melissa straightens her posture and continues. “The point in me showing you my scar was to let you know that you're not alone. Every woman that takes this class is in here for a reason; whether they want to know how to defend themselves in the future or need to learn the skills for a current situation they're in.”
    “I figured that,” I tell her. “I have made progress through. Six months ago, I wouldn't have been able to do this.” Six months ago I could barely step outside of my apartment let alone take a self-defense class in a gym full of people.
    Her lips quirk up into a half-smile then she reaches out, grabs my hand, and squeezes. “Look, Hadlee. You can't climb a mountain over night. That's exactly what overcoming the pains of your past is going to be like; climbing a mountain. It's a slow uphill climb at first, but eventually you'll be on a snow-crusted peak, admiring a valley below you and you'll be thinking to yourself, wow what an accomplishment . After that, life gets easier, better. The little things that you thought were so difficult before won't seem that difficult and not long after that your past will just be your past. What happened to you will always be there, lingering in the back of your mind, but it won't eat away at you like it does now. It won't consume your life, I promise.” She releases my hands and sits back with a smile. “You know what they say?” Another brief hesitation. “It can only get better from here.”
     Her words sink in and swirl around my brain. Yes, I know without a doubt that I'll wake up tomorrow morning and still have the issues that I have today, but it does help to know that I'm not alone. It does help to know that maybe when things get too tough I can look to Melissa for advice on how to cope with