Status: On hold
Fragments
chapter 4: part 4
“Where is she?” Alyson almost screeched, running downstairs at the sound of the car doors slamming. Her mother was struggling through the door, a stumbling girl held in her arms. “Oh, thank goodness,” Alyson whimpered, rushing forwards, pulling the girl into her own arms. “Oh, Liza, Liza, are you okay? What happened? Do you need anything?”
The girl, Liza, stayed silent and motionless in her older sister’s arms. She looked as though she was in her late teens and she wore a crumpled school uniform. Her eyes were wide, almost scared, and her fists were clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
“What happened?” Alyson, in her twenties, asked their mother, a middle-aged woman with greying hair and a pained expression on her face.
“No one seems to know for sure,” their mother said softly. “They have a version that they think happened, though…”
It was seven o’clock in the evening by then and both Alyson and her mother had been horribly worried since earlier that day. Liza hadn’t come home from school and, after ringing, the school had informed her mother that Liza had not attended any of her classes. By then, her mother, Susan, had started to look for her, calling everyone from the police to her friends to her sister, Alyson. This had caused Alyson to abandon her husband with their newly born child to help search for Liza. At dinner time, the police had called, saying that a girl had been brought in with an ID of Elizabeth Crewman.
“What do they think happened, then?” Alyson demanded, keeping one hand on Liza’s arm as she steered her towards the couch in the lounge room. The girl allowed herself to be pushed along obediently. Her eyes were distant and this scared Alyson, though she didn’t want to admit it.
Susan passed a hand over her eyes wearily. “They say someone took her while she was walking to school, drugged and raped her. Then, he left her on the footpath, and someone found her and rang the police. The police have found traces of a drug in her blood but not enough for her to need to go to hospital. They called it a date rape drug, but I don’t remember the proper name, some scientific-sounding word or something…
“The police say Liza probably won’t remember anything, because of the drug; she might remember being taken, but it’d be a miracle if she remembers the attacker’s face or name. She might not remember today at all. I can’t get her to talk to me to tell me what she remembers.” Susan sighed and slumped down in an armchair. “If she doesn’t remember anything, I don’t think I’m going to tell her.”
Together, they managed to get Liza into bed.
The next day, Alyson walked in on Liza, rocking backwards and forwards on her bed, desperate tears staining her cheeks. Her words came out in gasps and her gaze was full of a panicky pain.
“Aly, Aly…There are bad things in my memory. There are hands, big, bad hands, and oh god, why do I feel so dirty? Something happened to me, Aly. There are hands on me. Make them go away, Aly, please save me from them, please, please, please!” Liza plunged her own hands into her hair and let out a screech of agony that cut through both of them.
Alyson stood there, stunned, watching her little sister, wrecked and despairing. She wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears and pretend it wasn’t happening.
Instead, she crawled onto the bed with Liza and pulled her into a tight embrace. Alyson could feel her moaning into her shoulder, tears dampening her shirt. “Shh, Liza,” she whispered, stroking her hand through Liza’s hair. “I think you just had a nightmare. Everything’s alright, Liza, everything’s okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to you while I’m here.”
The girl, Liza, stayed silent and motionless in her older sister’s arms. She looked as though she was in her late teens and she wore a crumpled school uniform. Her eyes were wide, almost scared, and her fists were clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
“What happened?” Alyson, in her twenties, asked their mother, a middle-aged woman with greying hair and a pained expression on her face.
“No one seems to know for sure,” their mother said softly. “They have a version that they think happened, though…”
It was seven o’clock in the evening by then and both Alyson and her mother had been horribly worried since earlier that day. Liza hadn’t come home from school and, after ringing, the school had informed her mother that Liza had not attended any of her classes. By then, her mother, Susan, had started to look for her, calling everyone from the police to her friends to her sister, Alyson. This had caused Alyson to abandon her husband with their newly born child to help search for Liza. At dinner time, the police had called, saying that a girl had been brought in with an ID of Elizabeth Crewman.
“What do they think happened, then?” Alyson demanded, keeping one hand on Liza’s arm as she steered her towards the couch in the lounge room. The girl allowed herself to be pushed along obediently. Her eyes were distant and this scared Alyson, though she didn’t want to admit it.
Susan passed a hand over her eyes wearily. “They say someone took her while she was walking to school, drugged and raped her. Then, he left her on the footpath, and someone found her and rang the police. The police have found traces of a drug in her blood but not enough for her to need to go to hospital. They called it a date rape drug, but I don’t remember the proper name, some scientific-sounding word or something…
“The police say Liza probably won’t remember anything, because of the drug; she might remember being taken, but it’d be a miracle if she remembers the attacker’s face or name. She might not remember today at all. I can’t get her to talk to me to tell me what she remembers.” Susan sighed and slumped down in an armchair. “If she doesn’t remember anything, I don’t think I’m going to tell her.”
Together, they managed to get Liza into bed.
The next day, Alyson walked in on Liza, rocking backwards and forwards on her bed, desperate tears staining her cheeks. Her words came out in gasps and her gaze was full of a panicky pain.
“Aly, Aly…There are bad things in my memory. There are hands, big, bad hands, and oh god, why do I feel so dirty? Something happened to me, Aly. There are hands on me. Make them go away, Aly, please save me from them, please, please, please!” Liza plunged her own hands into her hair and let out a screech of agony that cut through both of them.
Alyson stood there, stunned, watching her little sister, wrecked and despairing. She wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears and pretend it wasn’t happening.
Instead, she crawled onto the bed with Liza and pulled her into a tight embrace. Alyson could feel her moaning into her shoulder, tears dampening her shirt. “Shh, Liza,” she whispered, stroking her hand through Liza’s hair. “I think you just had a nightmare. Everything’s alright, Liza, everything’s okay. Nothing bad is going to happen to you while I’m here.”