It took me full
five minutes to realise I was in my bedroom, face down on my bed. The pillow
was freshly cried into. I had mastered the art of muffling nightly screams and
sobs into my abused pillow, aware that my brother sleeping in the next room
would be worried sick and that my sister-in-law would start a week-long lecture
on the importance of bedtime prayer.
This was the
fifth episode this week, and I was not surprised. I climbed out of the bed and
managed the distance to bathroom where I nearly collapsed on the floor. The
mirror reflected back dishevelled hair, crazy, out-of-focus, wide eyes and
parched lips on a face wet with tears and sweat. The face has changed, but the
eyes have been the same for the past eighteen years. I splashed cold water and
let it run down the length of me. The tears kept coming and the breathing
refused to steady. The images started playing in front of my eyes as I
struggled back to my room. The clock said it was just past four in the morning.
I had to go. Now.
I stuffed a
scarf in my mouth to quieten the uncontrollable sobs and changed as fast as I
could. Half blinded by tears, I felt what I was doing, more than seeing. I
threw the scarf back on the bed and tip-toed out of my room. It was dark and
silent. I stopped as a stair squeaked under my weight. The snoring from my
brother’s room stopped for a few seconds and I stood frozen midway to the
ground floor. Five minutes later I was out the back door. I climbed the wall to
avoid moving the rusty gate and landed on all fours on the other side. There
was an endless stretch of tarred road disappearing in the shadows.
The trembling
started again and my leaden legs started protesting. The images hovered in
front of me and I started running – haphazard, almost drunken strides. My
running nose forced me to breathe through my mouth and each breath was a
painful onslaught of chilled air that traveled down my spine as I pounded the
road.
I was inside a cupboard which had a tiny crack of
light coming through an opening. My knees were drawn tight and I was smiling.
Daddy was in a good mood today.
“Angel,
come here sweetheart, drink your milk while it’s hot.”
This was my favourite time of the day, the time when
daddy would come back from office and spent time with me. If he was in a good
mood, we would even play for a while and he would show me mom’s pictures and
talk about the time when he and mom had been on a road trip.
The road took a
sharp turn but I kept going straight, into the woods, into the shadows. My
breathing was evenly strained now. The tears had left dry salt lines that
stretched my face. The woods were silent, too silent, as if the world waited
with bated breath to hear my heart’s mad beating and the un-rhythmic crunch of
leaves under my strides.
He was smiling and humming a familiar tune.
“Come
to daddy Angel. Where are you?”
He looked about the room once and then his eyes rested
on the cupboard. His smile widened. I suppressed a giggle and closed my mouth
with both hands. He looked away.
“Oh dear, where is my Angel? Now daddy will have to
look everywhere!”
He started humming the tune again, placed the glass of
milk on the side table and started searching. He moved in and out of my vision.
The wood was
uphill now. My lungs were burning but I kept going. The distance was getting
shorter but the shadows were getting longer. I had to keep running. I must not
stop. I could not stop. I looked back and saw nothing but hostile trees and twisted
shrubs, all mocking at me. Something moved at my right. I knew there was
something behind me. A stifled scream escaped my lungs, echoing in the woods. I
was panting quite audibly, tears came down faster. It was dark, the darkest
hour.
“How
will daddy find his Angel?”
He went out of my vision again. I could see his shadow
on the floor. Then I saw another shadow behind him. Daddy would call me and I
would come out and surprise him the very next time he called. Daddy shadow was
bent down humming a tune. The other shadow lifted his hand and I heard a dull
thud. Both shadows went down. The glass of milk fell down and broke. I heard
the thud again, and again, and again. Was something wrong? Was it another game?
Should I sit tight?
The milk had travelled in a white line till the
cupboard door, now a crimson line was covering the white line, spreading all
the way, so much of it. I should wait for daddy to call me. Tears ran down my
face and I stuffed both my hands inside my mouth to stifle my sobs, but I was
shaking now. The cupboard rattled a little. A shadow moved again. The other
shadow. Where was daddy? I was biting into my fists but my sobs wouldn’t stop.
The shadow grew bigger.
There were
shadows all around me. The woods thinned. I had to fight it, I had to keep
going, I had to keep running. There were screams, and rhythmic dull sounds and
it was close, getting closer. I pushed myself forward.
The shadow of one hand was longer. I saw the longer
hand. It was a crowbar at the end which was dripping sticky red. He stepped on
the crimson-white pool and started walking towards the cupboard. He raised his
crowbar hand as he slowly walked towards me. I forgot how to breathe. I saw
him, I saw his face. He looked directly at me. I was still not breathing and
slowly, he started to float in my vision. He looked confused. He started moving
backwards. His shadow grew smaller. My eyes closed and there was loud screaming,
not me, not within me. Thankfully, I fell silent – not breathing, not sobbing,
soundless.
My eyes were
closed now and I was sprinting. A few more strides and I can save him. I will
save him from the dull thud and shrill screeching sounds. I had to do this. The
shadows were receding. The sky was lightening. I had reached. I collapsed with
the cheek pressed to the cold marble. My
hands were fisted around the grass that I had pulled halfway off the
ground. I lay there as my breathing
calmed down.
He was humming that tune again and he stopped in front
of the cupboard.
He opened the cupboard and we both laughed in joy. He
took me piggyback and ran around the room and every time he stopped, I’d say
“One more daddy”, and he would go around once more.
I lay there on
the cold marble, relaxed now. I had won. I had conquered the shadows. A hand
caressed my hair and rubbed my shoulders. My brother had known I would be there.
He knew my jogs ended here. He didn't know about the woods or the shadows. He
walked me to the parking area. The morning mass was over and a few people stood
socialising in the parking area. My brother was dressed in his best suit.
“You came for
the mass?”
“No, I came for
you.” He paused. “Today’s the day Angel, he will get what he deserved.
Today was the
verdict. Eighteen years after the incident, the other man had been tried. The
case was presented and the prosecution was very strong, especially with my
witness account. After today, there would not be any more shadows, I had
promised myself.
