“Why not?” Gasping for air, she clutched her throat, panic overtaking her. “It’s the truth.”
“Shannon, breathe.” I reached over and rubbed her back. “Take a breath.”
Sagging forward in her seat, she clutched her skinny knees and wrestled to get her breathing back on track.
“Good girl.” Pulling up to the footpath outside our house, I parked the car, but left the engine running. “Nice and slow.”
She remained in the car long after her breathing had steadied, and the longer she lingered, the heavier my conscience became.
“Shannon?”
Silence.
“Are you listening to me?”
She nodded once, but kept her eyes trained straight ahead.
“If he touches you again, Shannon, I want you to grab the sharpest knife you can find, and I want you to plunge it into his heart.”
Finally, she turned to look at me; eyes full of despondence. “You’re not coming back, are you?”
“I can’t,” I strangled out, willing her to understand that my sanity was at stake. “If I go back inside that house, I’ll kill them both.”
The look on her face assured me that she didn’t understand.
The look on her face assured me that I had broken her heart.
Bitterly disappointed in me, my sister unfastened her seatbelt, and climbed out of the car.
“Goodbye, Joey,” was all she said, before slamming the door shut, and walking away.
I’M FINE!
AOIFE
“Aoife?” My father stood in the doorway of my room, eyes full of concern. “Are you alright, pet?”
“Fine,” I choked out, pacing my bedroom floor like a maniac, as I tried and failed to process that last few hours of my life. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You don’t seem fine.”
That’s because I’m not.
“What do you want me to do; take a fucking lie detector test?” I snapped, running my hands through my hair, only to shudder violently at the sensation. “I said I’m fine.”
“It’s just that I can hear you banging around up here from the sitting room, and I can’t hear my film with all of the stomping.”
“What do you want me to do?” I demanded, throwing my hands up. “Cut my legs off and crawl instead?”
“Jesus,” Dad muttered, rubbing his jaw. “Right. I’m off out for a pint with your mother. Stamp away to your heart’s content.”
The minute he closed my bedroom door behind him, a full body shudder rolled through me and I shook my hands out, desperate to rid myself of this horrible anxiety.
Stripping down to my underwear, I quickly balled up my clothes and walked over to my window, not hesitating to throw them out of it.
It wasn’t enough.
I could feel his hot breath on my neck.
It repulsed me.
It made my skin crawl.
Tears streamed from my eyes as I reached behind my back and quickly unhooked my bra, letting it fall from my shoulders, before pushing my knickers down my legs and stepping out of them.
Grabbing my dressing gown off the back of my wardrobe door, I slipped it on and bolted for the bathroom, determined to wash the feel of that man off my skin.
THE ELEVENTH HOUR
JOEY
All the way back to Molloy’s house, I fought an internal war inside of my body; where two parts of my mind battled it out for dominion over me.
On one side there was the demon that lived just beneath the surface; that horrible fucking voice that controlled every impulse, urge, and reaction I’d ever had.
It was the one that assured me that my life had indeed gone to shit, without any chance of recourse, and if the only relief I found came in the form of narcotics, then so be it. Because I’d done enough, fought enough, tried hard enough for everyone else.
I’d paid my goddamn dues, taken enough shit to earn my rite of passage. I wasn’t hurting anyone, not really, and if I was careful this time, I could control my urges instead of letting my urges control me.
On the other side, all by its lonesome, and looking less appealing by the second, was my conscience. Crippling me with flashes of memories and images of the past, it urged me to step back and think about what I was doing.
No good will come of this, my conscience urged, you’ll break her heart all over again. Remember last time? Remember her face?
Your father already broke her, and you gave him the access, the demon hissed, do you want to sit with the visual of him spreading her legs open like a brood fucking mare, or do you want to forget everything bad you’ve ever seen, felt, and experienced? Because your conscience won’t do that for you. You know what will work, though. You can make it all go away. You don’t have to suffer like this.
“I want to forget,” I strangled out, chest heaving, as I pulled up outside Molloy’s house, and killed the engine. “I need to forget.”
Locking her car, I let myself into her garden and walked over to the front door to push the keys through the letter box.
I turned around to walk away, but stalled, unable to get my feet to cooperate.
Don’t do this, my conscience reared its unwelcome head, all you have to do is just keep trying – one hour at time, remember? You’ve got this.
Exhaling a frustrated breath I took two steps towards the gate, before muttering out a string of curses and veering off in the direction of their garden shed.
Bad idea.
Bad idea.
Bad idea.
Hoisting myself onto the roof of the shed, I took a running jump at the side of the house, catching a hold of the ledge with a familiarity that should have concerned me.
Using all of my upper body strength, and ignoring the burn in my torn knuckles, I quickly pulled myself up onto Molloy’s windowsill, and climbed inside her open window.
Her bedroom was empty when I stepped inside, so I walked over to her bed and sat down, needing to stay very much inside of this room and out of trouble.
This room, and the girl who it belonged to, had become my safety net.
My safe place.
Several minutes ticked by before her bedroom door finally opened inwards and she appeared, bundled up in a fluffy white towel.
The minute her eyes landed on mine, I saw the temporary fear, the momentary flash of horror, because it was like she said; I reminded her of him.
“I know that you want space.” Standing slowly, I held my palms up and backed over to the window, giving her as much space as I could to put her at ease. “I heard you.”
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bloodshot and swollen from the sheer height of crying, and her cute little button nose was red from sniffling.
Tightening her hold on the front of her towel, she walked over to her bed and sat down, keeping her eyes trained on mine.
The fear was gone now, replaced with the usual affectionate familiarity I saw when she looked at me, but the fact that it had existed in the first place troubled me deeper than I could ever explain.
“But?” she whispered, crossing one long leg over the other.
I shrugged helplessly. “How could I not come back?”
“Joe.” Her voice cracked and she bowed her head, shoulders shaking violently, as she burst into tears. “I was so scared.”
“I’m sorry,” I strangled out, closing the space between us. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” Sinking down on my knees beside her, I placed my hands on her hips, and then recoiled in horror when she flinched from my touch.