1.1 | daunting medleys

forty-eight | cold day in October

Tabitha woke up with a groan.

Her scalp hurt, and she tried to fight whatever was holding her hair. She flailed, and woke up, teary-eyed. Her eyes were blurry, and thick with pain. Little bouts of pain shot from her scalp, and her eyes settled to see her mother leaning over her, her elbow pressed on Tabitha's hair. The older woman's eyes were thick with fear, and adoration, and Tabitha's heart seized in terror.

"Morning sweetheart." Her expression shifted when she noticed the fear in Tabitha's eyes. "Don't look so scared, I'm just here to... talk."

Tabitha's hands were shaking, and she could feel her heart rate skyrocket. "Mother, what's going on? I don't understand." She asked, tears slipping down the crevice of her ear and her neck. She couldn't get up, not when her hair was being pressed down. She could barely turn her head, nor could the fear gripping her bones allow her to move.

"Look, sweetie. I'm not here to harm you. I just want to make sure your father doesn't know about the little violin incident." She soothed, brushing her finger over Tabitha's face. Her tense face relaxed when Tabitha nodded. "He doesn't know?" She nodded again. "Good. You are my greatest gift, Tabitha. You know that, right? You are perfect, my most prized possession, and I do everything for you. You are destined for great things, and you don't need distractions in your life. I let distractions ruin my life, and I will never have them ruin your life."

Tabitha's heart was bound to jump out of her chest, and she could feel her throat close up. Her eyes were boiling with tears, and terror gripped her body, disabling her from moving.

She removed her hands from the younger girl's hair, and Tabitha's scalp screamed in pain. "You know what happens when you disobey me right? And I know you are a smart girl. You wouldn't dare disobey me, knowing full well what the consequences are." Tabitha nodded fervently, screaming internally when her lips brushed the younger girl's clammy forehead. "Your father isn't home, and I decided to come over. Come down for breakfast soon, I made your favorite. Waffles and raspberry jam."

"I'm allergic." Tabitha whispered, but her mother was gone, the same way she had walked in. Like a hurricane, with the intent to destroy. Bile pushed up her throat, and she stumbled to the bathroom, haphazardly leaning over the toilet seat and throwing up everything she had eaten. Her throat burned, and her eyes were too painful to open.

Everything else was a blur. Her getting into the bathroom. Her putting on clothes. Her hair was pulled in a ponytail without being brushed, and she didn't do anything to her face. Her lips were chapped, and the dried skin brushed her hands as she pressed her hands against her mouth to muffle her sobs.

Her hands shook as she dialed the only number she could to without being judged, slipping out of the house without anybody's knowledge. "Lisa? I... I need to talk to you."

************

Tabitha's hands were shaking as her hands clenched around the steering wheel. Lisa wasn't at the office, and asked Tabitha to go to a park close to her house. She, in her muddled, terrified state, didn't remember school, or the fact that she needed to attend school. The drive to the park was short, and her anxiety was through the roof.

She saw Lisa's figure, perched on a bench. Tabitha rushed to her, face blotchy and wet with tears. Lisa's hug was comforting, and just made her cry into her shirt. Her body shook, and she could feel her sanity slip from her fingers like fine sand. Everything was falling apart.

"I can't... Lisa. I'm hurting." She clutched her chest, and cried into the older woman's warm embrace.

"Tabitha. Are you alright? What's wrong? Talk to me." And she did. Spilling the amount of abuse she'd suffered in her mother's hands, to her therapist, in a park, on a cold day in October.

************

Before Tabitha knew it, she'd been talking to Lisa for more than three hours. Her hands were cold, and she was numb, but it didn't matter. Her phone was vibrating constantly, and she didn't want to see who was calling.

"Darling, pick up your phone." Lisa said gently, her tone never changing. Her voice had been hard, when Tabitha spoke about what had happened to her, and she could hear the pity in her voice. Tabitha didn't want pity. She didn't deserve pity. She knew pity didn't nothing but increase the urge to vomit.

Tabitha didn't reply, as her mind wondered to when Oliver called her darling, when her heart had erupted into multiple pieces. That seemed like a distant memory. She wondered if he would look disgusted at her state, if he would be unable to look at her pitiful expression. Her hands shook, and her throat was dry. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to see the disgusted look from anyone at all, as they took in her expression.

Tabitha looked down to see her father calling, she didn't answer, just sent him a short text telling him where she was. Tabitha didn't want to talk. She didn't have anything to say. Talking was useless.

He had arrived in less than ten minutes, storming towards her with the angriest expression she had ever seen on him. Tabitha could, however, see the anger falter when he took in her disheveled state. He knelt before her, hands on her knees as he tried to probe her. Her body was cold, extremely cold, and she realised that she hadn't worn a jacket, and the sleeves of her jacket were thin and useless. She wrapped her hands around herself, unable to focus on anything but the pain in her scalp, and the terror that gripped her heart.

Lisa said nothing for a while, before whispering to her dad, who nodded. He carried Tabitha bridal style, to his car, and covered her with a blanket. She was shaking, and she knew she looked worse for wear. He brushed his lips over her forehead, and said something she couldn't hear. He shut the door, and went back to Lisa, his steps short and scared. Her body felt like she had been dragged underwater. Her limbs felt heavy, and her mind raced with unpleasant thoughts.

Her body fell into a deep slumber, where the fire was brighter, and it was her entire body burning, and the maniacal laughter of her mother that accompanied the cracks of the fire that devoured her violin.

Tabitha stirred when hands grabbed at her body, she pawed at the air, a strangled cry leaving her when she felt she left the car. Cold air rushed at her, and she snuggled into the warmth. In her delirious state, she was lowered on a bed that she recognized as hers when she opened her eyes to see her bedside lamp. The bed dipped beside her, and her mother's image came to view. She stiffened, and Tabitha could hear Talia's indiscernible words of assurance. Perhaps it was indiscernible. Perhaps she couldn't hear. Perhaps, oblivion didn't allow lies.