The Girl in the Closet

Eyes shut tight, the girl sat in silence. Muffled voices broke into her thoughts. A crash somewhere in the distance forced her eyes open. She waited, holding her breath. Another crash and she pulled her knees to her chest, hoping the noises would stop. Willing the world around her to disappear, she sat shrouded in darkness. The voices grew louder and turned to shouting. One single voice cut clear through the dark, deep and clear and she knew he was coming for her. The rhythmic thudding of angry foot on step beat its path closer to her hiding place. A door flew open and hit the wall. Frozen, she kept quiet, the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her foot slipped and she cursed herself, betrayed by her own body. The closet door wobbled, the sound echoing through her brain. The door opened and the light from outside seemed so bright. In a moment the light was gone, replaced by shadow and a hand reached for her. A silent scream ripped through her body and yet she made no sound as she was pulled roughly from her hiding place. The strong fist that was wrapped tightly around her arm loosened. Freedom beckoned and then a sharp pain burned at her scalp. Dragged across the floor, she pushed helplessly at the hand wound through her hair, her legs flailing behind her. Yanked up to her feet like a rag doll, she stood shaking. Her eyes met his and she shuddered, staring into the depths of cold rage. Still she made no sound. Her eyes flicked away, searching desperately for any means of escape.
“Look at me,” he thundered. “I’m your father.”
Shakily, she raised her eyes to his once more. The stench of alcohol on his breath turned her stomach. He stared at her, watching her, and the anger faded, his shoulders drooping. He let go, her hair falling over her shoulders and his eyes sparkled with unshed tears. Placing a trembling hand to his brow, he rubbed his forehead as if he was trying to wipe something away.
“Its all black here kid,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “The darkness is too strong. They’re always watching us you know.”
He walked from the room like a man defeated. She turned and threw herself on her bed, wishing she could cry but he had taken that from her years ago.
~
Sunlight washed the green of the garden with warmth that only summer could bring. Bright colours edged the grass and the sweet smell of flowers floated on the breeze. Full, fat roses wound their way over the brilliant white of a wooden garden arch. The girl sat on a fence with her leg dangling lazily over one side, watching him with his flowers. So careful, so tender was his touch as he tended to his garden. He looked up and saw her watching. His face transformed with a glowing smile. Flicking his silver hair from his eyes, he beckoned her. Kneeling on the grass beside him she drank in his every move just glad to be near him, to feel included in his shining world. He called her daddy’s little princess like he used to and she could almost believe that she was. Laughing and smiling, they worked their way around the garden, her eyes alight with every new discovery and each piece of information he bestowed upon her. She hung on every word and hoped the afternoon would never end. Swinging her up into the air his eyes twinkled with amusement and she returned his smiles with her whole heart. The day seemed perfect. Every colour seemed more vibrant. Every smell seemed fresher. Shadows fell on the grass and the sun was almost gone from the garden. He took her over to his arch and the roses no one was allowed to touch. Lovingly, he cut one of his prize flowers and pushed it into her hair.
“Perfect,” he said with that dazzling smile.
~
From the safety of her closet, the girl sat with her head resting on cool fabric. Suddenly there was a crash and then banging, followed by angry shouts. She sat still, trying to block out the sounds. Her stomach churned and fear clawed at her. Leaning forward, she pushed the door gently and listened. She slipped out from her closet and crept out of her room. Sitting at the top of the stairs, she heard him.
“They can’t touch me I won’t have it.”
Pushing herself down a step, she peaked through the rail and watched as he picked up a vase and threw it at the wall.
“This is my house and they can’t come in. Do you here me? Stay away!”
He disappeared from view into the living room and crashed his way about, throwing anything he could find. She looked across the hallway below to the dining room where her mother’s best china was housed. Something snapped inside her and her stomach calmed a little. The room that only guests were aloud in, he couldn’t ruin that. She ran down the stairs and across the large hallway. He strode out from the living room to see her standing in front of the dining room door. She looked up at him defiantly, her feet planted firmly.
“You are not going in there,” she said, her voice steady.
Screaming wildly, his hand wrapped around her throat. Clawing at his fingers, she struggled to free herself. She could hardly breathe and her head began to feel light. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. She felt her feet leave the ground, his hand still around her neck and then it was gone and she was flying. There was a loud thud and then she was sliding down. Blinking slowly, she realised that it was her that had made the sound. Lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs, she watched from a strange angle as he nearly tore the door of its hinges. He was inside. Like a whirlwind he swept through the room, tearing, smashing and raging at unseen voices until there was nothing left but pain.
~
The car engine idled gently by the side of the road. The girl sat staring out of the window at the bleak grey sky above. She watched the other cars pass and her mind wandered. They sat in silence in their own quiet little bubble while the world outside moved on in its own time. She felt movement from the front of the car and turned her head to see his shoulders shaking. His head twitched and he placed a hand to his temple as if to steady himself. She could hear him whispering to himself but she couldn’t make out the words. Stealing herself for a flood of angry words, bruises and unseen scars, she waited for the angry tempest but it never came. Lowering his head to the steering wheel, he sobbed quietly. With one heavy sigh the floodgates were opened and she could see the tears coursing down his cheeks in the rear view mirror. His shoulders heaved with emotion and he cried like a lost child. She felt awkward and conflicted. He was crying and she had no idea why. Shifting uneasily on the worn seat, she could not look away. He seemed broken and she wanted to fix him but she felt so small and far away from him. She wanted to reach out to him but fear held her rigid. Words clambered to be free, to comfort him and make everything alright but she sat silent and alone behind him. Love and hate warred within her and she didn’t understand any of it.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “The darkness is surrounding me.”
~
Sleepily, she looked out of the car window, the lights of other cars flashing every now and then. The street lights flickered in places, casting eerie shadows that jumped in and out of existence. Her eyelids weighing heavy and half closed, she could not manage sleep. A fluttering sensation gnawed at the pit of her stomach and she could not help but feel that something was wrong. Flicking her eyes to the driver’s seat every now and then, she noticed the occasional sharp movement of his head. Over the low rumble of the car’s engine she could make out the muffled ravings here and there. Her eyelids fluttered closed and suddenly he hit the steering wheel and shouted.
“Shut up, just shut up. I curse you, you hear me? You’re cursed.”
There was no one there. His head jerked in an involuntary twitch and his hand crashed down on the steering wheel again, catching the horn. The beep startled her even more than the shouting and banging. She was used to it now. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and wondered how much longer the journey would be. Without warning he veered onto the other side of the road.
“Come on then if you want me. Take me! End it then but I’m taking her with me.”
Wide awake, she stared ahead in terror at the headlights moving towards them.
“Pull over,” she screamed. “You’re on the wrong side of the road.”
The headlights grew larger and he slammed his foot on the accelerator.
“They’re going to hit us. Dad!”
He stopped shouting as suddenly as he had started and swung the wheel round. The brakes screeched and the car juddered to a halt. She sat unmoving, her mouth wide with shock. Whatever it was that had made him snap out of his sudden madness had just saved her life.
~
Standing in the kitchen, she waited for him to arrive. The smell of roast beef wafted across the room. He came in through the back door, his stick in his hand, smiling.
“It’s almost ready,” she said, putting the plates out.
Reaching into the cutlery drawer, she was aware of him pacing uneasily behind her.
“I want to go out to eat,” he said gruffly.
She placed the knife and fork down carefully and turned to face him.
“I’ve done roast beef dad,” she said calmly. “You knew I was cooking.”
“I fancy a drive,” he said, his head twitching slightly.
She stood there, watching his movements. He had been drinking as usual and he was acting strangely. He started mumbling to himself under his breath and she was immediately on edge.
“I’d rather stay here.”
He exploded and walked towards her, holding his stick like a club, his knuckles white.
“I’m your father and you will do as you are told or I’ll …”
Her feet rooted to the floor, her fists clenched, a spark of anger shot through her.
“Go on then,” she said deliberately, her eyes fierce. “Hit me.”
His steps faltered and he lowered his arm slightly.
“Do whatever you want and then I’ll go straight to the police.”
He raised his arm again and for one split second she thought he might kill her and then everything changed. His arm fell and he muttered to himself. Turning, he strode from the room and slammed the door behind him so hard that the door bounced back open again and slammed into the wall.
~
Pulling up outside his house, she stepped out of the car and stopped. She felt uneasy as if she were stepping into a dank cave after years of sunlight. He appeared in the doorway, his silver hair and thick grey beard masking the rage within. He moved towards her and still she stood, staring. It seemed to her that if she moved it would make the moment real and if it were real she may loose herself in the past. He stopped in front of her, leaning on his walking stick and he smiled. She could almost feel the sun, smell the flowers. There was no sickly smell of alcohol to greet her and his eyes sparkled down at her. She returned his smile hesitantly.
“How are you doing kid?”
“I’m doing alright.”
He leaned towards her and put his arms around her, holding her to him like she had never left that garden. For one tiny moment she was back there again and then the memories came flooding back. Not ready, her heart aching she pulled away from him. Stumbling off the curb, she righted herself and looked into his hurt and pleading eyes.
“I have to go,” she said, turning away.
Her hand shaking, she opened the car door, threw herself in the driver’s seat and turned the key. She looked up at him one last time, her mind reeling, emotions wild and drove away.
~
Holding her son close, she looked at the sleek glossy coffin making its way behind the curtain. Closing her eyes, she remembered the cold, lifeless body. He had looked like a stranger and all she could think when she first saw him was that his hair wasn’t done right. He looked so peaceful, so quiet laying there in that little room, alone and helpless. His smile was gone forever and all that was left were memories and words that would remain unspoken. She opened her eyes again to see that everyone had already left the room. The curtain closed and he was gone. It was all so final and so real. She looked down at her son that he would never meet and turned to leave. Her emotions clawed their way to the surface and she let out one echoing sob. She was given his ashes a few days later. All that was left of him was in a small wooden box. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface. It was all over. Now, she finally understood and she could never tell him. Opening her closet, she slid the box to the back and with a sad smile, she closed the door.

© Kat Jones 2009