Fragments

Bethany stood outside her old house, hesitation practically screaming from her. She was biting her nails, her feet shifting places, and her mind kept wondering the same question over and over: Should I go in? It had been two years since she last saw her family, after she had fled from it, scared and alone. She’d easily found a very small, and admittedly smelly, place to rent, but her feet were constantly sore from too many hours working to pay it.

She dearly missed her mother and her brother, Jordan, but her other brother was a scary memory she just wanted to forget. And she knew he had not moved out yet, despite turning twenty four this coming September. Now, as she stood outside, trying to will herself to knock on the door, she was terrified.

She raised her hand to the wooden door and kept it there, hovering an inch away, until she sighed and dropped it in despair. She was too afraid, and she hated herself for it.

Instead of staying on the doorstep, she quickly skirted around a bush before kneeling beside a closed window that had a crack where the curtains met. She peered through, crossing her fingers in hope that her neighbours weren’t peering through their own windows and noticing her slightly creepy behaviour.

Through the crack, she could see her childhood living room, looking almost the same as she remembered – a small television, a coffee table that always had the circular stains from everyone’s cups, an old beige couch and a leather rocking chair that belonged to her mother. The differences, Beth noticed, were that the carpet was a different colour and looked a lot newer, and the door was closed. When she lived there, the door was never closed – it was like some kind of unspoken rule.

And on the couch was a teenage girl, probably about fifteen or sixteen it looked like. She was lying on the couch, her eyes half-closed, one arm dangling off in an awkward position. For a moment, Beth’s thoughts ran something like, Oh my god, is she dead? But the girl’s chest was rising and falling in a steady movement, and every now and then, she’d twitch.

Her clothes were askew; her shirt was unbuttoned and her skirt yanked into a bunch around her waist. It looked like a school uniform. Beth visibly winced when she noticed the girl’s panties across the room. She knew, she just knew what had happened, and it made her heart crumble. How could Derek do this? How could he drug – or at least, it seemed like the girl had been drugged – and rape what was probably an innocent girl?

She bit back a sob and instead focused on the window. It wasn’t locked, but it was hard to push up because it was never opened. That made it stiff and difficult to move. After a few minutes of too-loud scraping noises, the window was finally open and the curtains pushed aside.

She knew Derek had to be somewhere in the house. She didn’t know where exactly. She didn’t know how long he would be away. It made her tremble.

But she climbed into the room anyway, cursing the fact that she had little to no upper body strength. She tumbled clumsily to the ground and held her breath, wondering if anyone had heard anything, if Derek would come screaming back. When no one opened the door, she darted forward and hoisted the girl from the couch after fixing her clothes. And boy, was she heavy!

The girl mumbled something under her breath and her eyes opened wider, but her legs did not move and her feet did not help her stand. Beth groaned lightly and began to half-drag, half-carry the girl to the open window. Muttering a quick apology, she pushed the girl through the window and let her fall to the ground with a soft crash. It was dusk, luckily, so anyone who could’ve seen was inside, eating their dinner like normal people.

Beth followed the teenager and saw that she was beginning to stir. Probably the crash knocked something into her. Turning around, Beth smashed the window down into the sill and then picked up the girl. It wasn’t easy but because the girl was smaller than average, it was possible.

She didn’t let herself cry until she was more than a few houses away. But when she turned to glance back, she saw him, her brother, the monster, standing outside and staring right at her. She quickly looked ahead and sped up her walk, despite her arm’s groaning muscles.

“What…” the girl mumbled as she grew more awake. Beth bit her lip until it bled, trying to stop the pain of knowing what happened – and knowing she would not tell anyone who did this horrible, horrible thing. But the pain didn’t stop and her tears kept falling, seeping into the collar of her shirt.

When she was finally a little more than a few streets away, Beth stopped walking and laid the girl on the cement footpath, sighing with relief when the weight left her arms. Then, she walked away, hoping that someone would find the girl soon and take her to the hospital or the police or wherever she needed to go. She walked away, unable to deal with her brother’s messes any longer.

She walked and walked and walked, until finally, her legs gave way beneath her.