Boston Blood

Twenty six

The harsh light was blinding her. Her eyes felt like they were on fire behind her lids and he head was splitting in two. She had no idea where the light was coming from and couldn't open her eyes. The pain was too intense. She touched her throat, lightly and winced from the tenderness. She could feel a warm blanket wrapped around her. She moved her hands down her body and realised she was still in her dress. Panic coursed through like wild fire as the patchy memories from the night before tormented her. She ripped her eyes open and sat up, gasping. Her throat was raspy and in agony.

Where the fuck am I? She didn't recognise the room. It wasn't hers. She fumbled at the covers and tumbled out of the bed. Her legs felt numb. She sat on the carpeted floor and placed her head between her legs, trying desperately to fill her lungs with air. She could see flashes of Jimmy's disgusting hands over her mouth as she tried to scream for help. She could still feel the weight of his massive body on top of her. Oh God!

Her mind was fuzzy. The last thing she could really remember was him lying on top of her and not being able to breathe. She began rocking back and forth and grabbing her hair with her hands. What have you done, Frankie? Why the fuck did you get yourself into this mess?

The sound of a child laughing nearby made her heart stop. She held her breath and crawled over to the door, pressing her ear up against the wood. She could hear the child giggle, happily and the sound of someone laughing. The fear and panic raging inside her was becoming too much to handle. She leapt off the floor and was about to pull the door open when she heard the child scream with glee; "Cillian, stop! I hate tickles!"

Frankie had to force herself to breathe. "Cillian?" She wheezed in shock before slapping her hands across her mouth. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened last night. Why is Cillian here? What the fuck is going on? Then, the unclear memory of being in a car and hearing Cillian's voice made her gasp. He was there last night. He got her out. She stood frozen with her hand locked on the handle. She couldn't hear the people in the other room anymore. She felt like she was dreaming. Her body felt like jelly and her head was spinning. She closed her eyes again and concentrated on trying to remember, but she couldn't. A harsh knock on the door made her jump and her eyes darted around the room for some sort of weapon but his voice was oddly soft as he spoke. "Frankie?"

He knocked again. "Frankie?" He sounded angry now, irritated. "Come out. We need to talk." Frankie took a deep, steadying breath and looked down at herself. There were bruises all over her body and dried blood caked into her legs. She rubbed her hands furiously over the red stains, giving herself skin burn. She ran into the small bathroom beside the bed and turned on the hot water in the bath. She sat on the edge and threw her legs in, letting the water burn her slightly. She sat there for what felt like hours and scrubbed until her skin was raw but she could still see the faint red etched into her skin. She grabbed the towel from the rack and patted herself dry. She slashed the steaming water on her face and kept her hands there for a few minutes, thinking of what to do. The harsh reality of her soberness and the realisation that she hadn't been dreaming hit her. This was real and no matter how much she tried, there was no way out. She was back there, again, powerless and hopeless. She wanted to cry, to scream in defiance but she just hadn't got it in her. Every ounce of energy she had was gone and had been replaced by shame and disgust. She couldn't believe that she had drank so much last night and had went there. Joe's sleazy face plagued her memory and fear ran through her like boiling water.

There was a soft knock on the bedroom door, then. It was much quieter and smaller than before. "Hello? He says there are some clothes in the closet if you want to get changed." It was a child's voice. Sweet and innocent and comically out of place. Frankie blinked in confusion and peeled herself off the tub and back into the dark bedroom. She walked over to the window and yanked the heavy curtains open. The view took her breath away. She was looking out at a gorgeous body of calm water. Where? She had no clue but the sudden and fleeting sense of calm it gave her was unexpected, then the panic returned. Where am I? Whose child is that?