Rollercoaster
Chapter 19
Aimee's POV
I stood in the kitchen, unable to control my fit of laughter. Frank was desperately trying to wipe all the cream off his face, most of the time failing miserably.
"It's not funny!" He turned round and glared at me.
"It soo is." I turned round to see Mikey holding a camera.
Frank turned round quickly. Just enough time for an embarrassing shot.
"Bingo." Mikey grabbed the developed photo out of the old Polaroid camera.
"Oh no you didn't..." Frank's eyes widened as he pounced on Mikey, knocking him flying.
10 minutes later
"You didn't have to punch me, Frank." Mikey sat up on the sofa, holding his bleeding nose, while Frank smirked in the corner.
"Hold still." I wiped away the blood with a wet cloth.
Suddenly I got a flashback.
I was stood in the kitchen, running a cloth under the cold water, when I turned around to see two bulging eyes staring at me. Then I felt a thump to my stomach and fell to the ground. The pain of that day came back to me. The way I was too worried to come home in case it happened again.
I dropped the cloth.
"You okay, Aimee?" Mikey worriedly looked at me, still holding his nose.
Gerard came up and put his hand on my shoulder. I shook and ran upstairs to the bathroom.
Everywhere I turned I could see Dad. I looked in the mirror. My face was a mess. Already I was crying, just thinking about the past.
I could see him. Staring back at me. He was trying to get to me. Even in my own head I wasn't safe. I closed my eyes, trying to make the image of him go away.
And then I heard him.
Aimee.
I tried to ignore it and put my hands over my ears.
I know you can hear me.
I squeezed my hands tighter around my ears, so I couldn't hear anything at all. But what use was that?
Look at me, girl.
I slowly opened my eyes and saw him staring at me in the mirror.
You're a worthless excuse for a daughter. That's why your mother left.
"No, she left because of you!" I cried into the mirror.
I don't know why you think this guy really cares about you, no one ever has.
"He does care about me!" I cried.
Why would anyone want you? Look at yourself, you're talking to a mirror! He laughed at me.
"Stop it!" I screamed.
The laughing got louder this time.
"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" I screamed, forcing my hand into the mirror. I could still hear him laughing.
I felt my hand repeatedly smash itself into the mirror, until I heard glass shatter. I looked up. The glass was no longer in the mirror, but all over the floor. My hand was now red, as blood started to trickle down my arm.
The laughing had gone, but I could now hear his voice that very night he got into the police car.
I'll get you, you wee bitch...
It continuously played back in my mind, like it was forever repeated and there was no way to stop it.
I sat on the cold floor and placed my bleeding hands around my knees. I rocked back and forth, silently crying, to try and get him out.
I heard the door suddenly jerk open.
"Oh god," Frank fell to his knees beside me. He pulled me into a tight hug and hushed me, telling me everything was going to be okay.
How was I meant to believe that?
I stood in the kitchen, unable to control my fit of laughter. Frank was desperately trying to wipe all the cream off his face, most of the time failing miserably.
"It's not funny!" He turned round and glared at me.
"It soo is." I turned round to see Mikey holding a camera.
Frank turned round quickly. Just enough time for an embarrassing shot.
"Bingo." Mikey grabbed the developed photo out of the old Polaroid camera.
"Oh no you didn't..." Frank's eyes widened as he pounced on Mikey, knocking him flying.
10 minutes later
"You didn't have to punch me, Frank." Mikey sat up on the sofa, holding his bleeding nose, while Frank smirked in the corner.
"Hold still." I wiped away the blood with a wet cloth.
Suddenly I got a flashback.
I was stood in the kitchen, running a cloth under the cold water, when I turned around to see two bulging eyes staring at me. Then I felt a thump to my stomach and fell to the ground. The pain of that day came back to me. The way I was too worried to come home in case it happened again.
I dropped the cloth.
"You okay, Aimee?" Mikey worriedly looked at me, still holding his nose.
Gerard came up and put his hand on my shoulder. I shook and ran upstairs to the bathroom.
Everywhere I turned I could see Dad. I looked in the mirror. My face was a mess. Already I was crying, just thinking about the past.
I could see him. Staring back at me. He was trying to get to me. Even in my own head I wasn't safe. I closed my eyes, trying to make the image of him go away.
And then I heard him.
Aimee.
I tried to ignore it and put my hands over my ears.
I know you can hear me.
I squeezed my hands tighter around my ears, so I couldn't hear anything at all. But what use was that?
Look at me, girl.
I slowly opened my eyes and saw him staring at me in the mirror.
You're a worthless excuse for a daughter. That's why your mother left.
"No, she left because of you!" I cried into the mirror.
I don't know why you think this guy really cares about you, no one ever has.
"He does care about me!" I cried.
Why would anyone want you? Look at yourself, you're talking to a mirror! He laughed at me.
"Stop it!" I screamed.
The laughing got louder this time.
"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" I screamed, forcing my hand into the mirror. I could still hear him laughing.
I felt my hand repeatedly smash itself into the mirror, until I heard glass shatter. I looked up. The glass was no longer in the mirror, but all over the floor. My hand was now red, as blood started to trickle down my arm.
The laughing had gone, but I could now hear his voice that very night he got into the police car.
I'll get you, you wee bitch...
It continuously played back in my mind, like it was forever repeated and there was no way to stop it.
I sat on the cold floor and placed my bleeding hands around my knees. I rocked back and forth, silently crying, to try and get him out.
I heard the door suddenly jerk open.
"Oh god," Frank fell to his knees beside me. He pulled me into a tight hug and hushed me, telling me everything was going to be okay.
How was I meant to believe that?