"Stay back a moment Trudy," her teacher’s voice stopped short the little girl’s dash for the door as bells knelled classes to a close.
"Is everything ok at home dear?" Ms. Donnelly enquired as Trudy stood before her, eyes fixed firmly on her feet.
An image of her mother lying crumpled on the floor, felled by her father’s fist, nylons torn and knees bleeding, flashed through Trudy’s mind as tell the truth and shame the devil, vied briefly with what goes on at home stays at home, with the latter claiming victory as she replied, "Yes Miss," unable to meet the teacher’s gaze lest she reveal the turmoil raging inside her.
But Ms.Donnelly was not so easily deflected.‘ "Look at me when I’m speaking to you child," she instructed firmly but not unkindly. And already at the tender age of 7 well practiced in the art of evasion and knowing grown-ups were not to be trusted, Trudy raised her head.
"Yes Miss," she repeated. "Sorry, Miss." "And I won’t catch my bus if I don’t run’." As the teacher nodded her assent, Trudy bolted for the door.
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Posted in response to 
The prompt is BLEEDING
The image is my own
