0 
0 By EA Carter
For six hours she had lain there. Unsure of what to do, unable to do anything. Just waiting. It changed her instantly and it couldn’t help but change the future she had planned. She tried to think how it had come to this, how she had ended up lying here, and what she had to do next. But her mind was running, telling her nothing, just filled with noise, pain and despair. She thought about moving but, no.
Wanting to rewind
After this, this cataclysm, more would change, no one would notice but this was a, no the, turning point for her. She’d stop caring about homework, she’d hide herself away, teachers would give her detention but no one would ask why. She would start expressing her feelings on her skin, where people couldn’t see. They wouldn’t understand. She’d stop eating in front of people, slowly wasting away. No one would notice.
But right now, she is just lying there. Breathing shallowly, not wanting to make a noise. Craning to hear something, anything. How could it be so quiet? Did it mean…?
There was only one way to be sure, but she didn’t want to be sure. She wanted to rewind, six months ago before they met, or two years ago before everything changed. Or to when she was nine and life was just easier, normal. Before she knew how it could be.
Her mind wandered, how was she supposed to get through the day? Could she tell anyone? What would she tell anyone? She still didn’t know for sure.
Something to be hidden
There were points, during the last six hours, that she’d thought of picking up her phone, but she hadn’t. It might have been the adrenaline, it might have been trepidation, it was something that she would never understand – how she could lie there and wait, how she could not react.
She was used to being the calm in the storm, the girl who never panicked, but this, this wasn’t calm, this was an eerie still. If she didn’t move, it wouldn’t be real. She wouldn’t have to deal with it. Whatever ‘it’ was going to be. From that day forward she never cried in front of anyone, she rarely cried on her own. It was something to be hidden, to be ashamed of. So when it came to move on from tonight, she would do just that, she would hide her feelings, she would hide the scars she made on her body. She would hide the pain and despair. She would hide everything until even she couldn’t find herself.
But now, now she is still lying there. She watches the clock creeping slowly towards dawn. She’s followed it all night. It is the only thing that makes sense.
Tonight was different
It had started at midnight. It had never been this bad before. She could always hear them. Maybe they thought the walls were thicker, maybe they just didn’t care. But tonight she wondered, did it get that loud because they wanted to be heard, to be interrupted, stopped? Usually she curled under her duvet with her fingers in her ears, eventually falling asleep, once the shouting and slamming of doors had stopped. Or maybe she was used to it and fell asleep anyway. But tonight, tonight was different.
Their relationship happened so fast. Engaged after six weeks, living together after two months, married in three. Maybe if there hadn’t been kids involved, things would have been easier, they might have been happy. She had been part of a quiet family and had been thrown in to what felt like a mass-brawl, her new siblings had each other, their parents together, then there was her. The soon to be invisible, broken her.
Dead silence
Tonight, the shouting was reaching its crescendo when suddenly it changed. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on me again.” She froze, this was new. Then, it was no longer voices, it was the sound of things breaking, smashing, being thrown against walls. And then screaming. Those screams would haunt the rest of her life.
Then silence.
Dead silence.
She couldn’t breathe out. Her lungs were on fire, but she couldn’t let go of that breath. She was frozen. So, she watched the clock.
Tick.
Tick.
And then finally, she heard movement. Someone went downstairs. Maybe she’d misunderstood, maybe she should go and check. Maybe she would find out her Mom wasn’t hurt, or dead… maybe.
1in4 UK Book Store:
[amazon_link asins='1977009336' template='ProductGrid' store='iam1in4-20' marketplace='US' link_id='ffcb5f04-1297-11e8-8b2c-c721ea9703cc']
But she couldn’t. She was scared. Frozen to the spot. What if she was? So, she stayed still. Unable to move. And she waited.
In the counselling sessions she would eventually seek, this night would be replayed. Over. And over. She never blamed him, she always blamed herself for not stopping it, for being too afraid, for being scared.
But right now, she needs to find out. She has to get out of bed, walk to the door, and find out. So, after six hours, eighteen minutes, and seven seconds, she finally uncurls her fist from the duvet, wraps her gown around her and walks towards the door.
UNITED STATES
UNITED KINGDOM
