CHAPTER 2:

BY LYDIA SHERIDAN
Screaming.
Getting
louder and louder.
Closer
and closer.
Shifting
shapes, blurred images.
Sudden
sharp bursts of crimson.
Getting
clearer.
A tall
man, standing over a cowering woman, shouting at her, his noise occasionally
punctured by swift, accurate blows to her body.
A
slim, metal object is clenched in his fist. The woman stays screaming, not
strong enough to even try to push him off.
A
small girl, no more than ten years old, appears, trying to fight him off her
mother. The man repeatedly forces her away. She’s not much of a hindrance. Even
though her kicking and hitting are quite strong, he’s so incensed he doesn’t
even realise it’s happening.
The
girl starts crying, pleading with him, and he ignores her further.
A
bigger problem now. Two teenage boys.
The
blonde one aims straight for the mans face, his fist meeting its mark. The girl
watches as the man staggers, dropping his rifle, clutching at his nose, which
is bleeding profusely. Another hit, this time to his stomach.
His
slurred cursing taints the air, joining the filthy, copper smell.
Blood.
Suddenly,
a damp hand grabs the girls arm.
It’s
her brother. He yanks her towards the front door. Her vision is impaired; tears
are streaming down her face. A glance at the brawling males vaguely shows her a
direct hit in the boys chest. Struggling to follow, she doesn’t look at them
any more.
She
only focuses on the door, and the slightly sweaty feel of her brothers hand.
Then…
Extreme
pain explodes in her jaw, her nose, and spreads to the rest of her face
rapidly.
No
warning.
No
caution.
She
can’t close her mouth, she can’t see, she can only feel the pain. Her brother
starts shrieking her name as she falls.
‘Elaine!
Elaine!’
Silence.
Elaine McGee woke up.
She can still hear the screaming. It was coming from
her own mouth. As soon as she realised it, it faded away.
She hasn’t had that dream for years, but now it was
haunting her, turning on like a film each night, as soon as she closed her
eyes. Her body was drenched in a cold sweat, causing the bed sheet to stick to
her. She kicked it off swiftly, letting it crumple on the floor, then laid flat
out on her bed.
Why was this happening? It had taken her years to push
it to the back of her mind, cramp in into the dark. The day she’d almost died.
For the first time - an occupation in Spectrum meant
your life was almost always at risk.
A tear trickled from beneath her closed right eyelid.
She wiped it away furiously.
Big girls don’t cry.
She knew she had to get help. But what can anyone do?
How can you make a bad memory, a bad dream disappear? It wasn’t as simple as
just rubbing it out with an eraser.
She remembered the events of earlier. Talking to
Mario. Why had she felt at the time that it had helped? He hadn’t really done
anything to benefit her, just listened, and asked more questions than were
necessary.
Maybe it had helped, a little. He’d made her
think, want to know more answers herself. And, finally, someone had now some
idea of why she had been so moody recently.
But
I shouldn’t have told him. It’s private.
Suddenly angry with herself, Elaine turned over onto
her side, staring at the slowly dying plant she always forgot to water.
She can still hear the screams in her head. Why didn’t I protect my mother? I tried. I
failed. I should have tried again.
What happened afterwards? No one had ever told her the
truth. All she knew was that a neighbour had called the emergency services, and
she’d been taken to hospital.
That was it.
What happened between her blacking out, and the police
and ambulance arriving?
There were so many questions without answers, and she
didn’t think she’d ever get to know it all.
The incident in her life when she’d started to
change…for better and worse.
She gained a friend in the daughter of the woman next
door, told the school mentors, who’d ceased the constant teasing against her,
gained respect. But she also acted up, lost her chance of getting good grades
by staying off school.
She’d hurt herself.
But that was a long time ago. She’d changed again. No
one could say she wasn’t strong now.
No one.
Elaine came to a decision.
I
won’t ask for help. I can get through this. I have before. I’ll try and force
it into submission again, get the memories under control.
It’s
just a bad dream after all.
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