Splattered Paint - Dan Howell

Young Darcy's Life

Phil’s P.O.V

It had been three days and each was packed with attempts to get Darcy to talk. The doctor said that her voice would most likely be the next part of her body to work normally again. They had decreased the drugs even more and were now relying purely on painkillers, today she had a good chance of speaking for the first time.
I sat impatiently as the doctor went through the steps again to Darcy, who had heard them countless times. It was the same cycle but he felt the need to recite it to us each day. Darcy nodded and the doctor waited as she opened her mouth and I crossed my fingers. A breathy noise escaped her lips but no words came out of her mouth. I sighed and watched her try again and again.
Nothing.
The doctor left soon, leaving Darcy and I alone. She bit her lip to stop it from shaking, which happened when she was trying not to cry. She and looked up at me, disappointed in herself.
“It’s fine Darcy, you just gotta wait till your voice is back. There is no rush, I’m not going to lose patience I promise” She sighed and I could tell she was getting impatient with herself, and had to admit, I wanted her to talk too but rushing her would only make matters worse.

Later that day I took it upon myself to visit Darcy’s orphanage. I knew there must be at least a few things of hers still there, they couldn’t just throw away everything or give it to other orphans.
I entered the colourful reception of the building, reading ‘Blossom Valley Orphanage which was painted onto the front of the desk messily, obviously by some of the children.
“Hi, I’m Philip Lester and I was wondering whether anything of Darcy Thompson is still here? She was a former orphan who never retrieved her belongings” The woman at the desk held her finger up as a sign to wait, obviously not the right person to be asking. I stood waiting almost awkwardly as she left for a few seconds and came back with an older looking lady by her side.
“Hello dear, what are you here for?” she asked sweetly, I cleared my throat.
“I’m here about Darcy Thompson, she was an orphan here about four years ago. She was kidnapped and found just over a week ago. The police told me they did not retrieve any of her belongings so I was wanting to know if anything is still here. I’m her friend by the way, she doesn’t have any other family to retrieve her things sadly” The lady nodded, a smile showing on her face halfway as she was obviously fond of Darcy.
“Yes, we were informed a week ago that she had been found. I remember her being quite the anti-social young girl. Expected though, she had lost both her parents and was an only child. None the less, she was polite and respectful, did her chores and homework. We home-school at the orphanage, Darcy was fairly good at all subjects but she excelled in arts and craft, painting was her love” I smiled and the lady brought me into a room with a desk and chairs, probably her office.
“How is she?” She asked with a more serious tone.
“She’s been in hospital for nearly two weeks, I was actually the one who found her on the street, beaten and bruised, cuts everywhere. She is currently able to open her eyes and move her head a little bit but she hasn’t got her voice and the rest of her body is temporarily paralyzed” She nodded with interest and was obviously glad to hear she was getting on well.
“We still have a few of her things, if you would like to take them to her?”
“Yes that would be great thanks” I responded politely. I watched as the woman opened a large cupboard from behind her and rummaged around. It was full of boxes and clothing but soon a fairly small box was handed to me.
“You can open it if you want, I’ll tell you what everything is” I hesitated but my curiosity got the better of me. I wanted to know more about Darcy and this was a good way to start. I carefully undid the cardboard flaps and peered inside. First I pulled out a silver necklace with a heart pendant.
“Her mothers, she would keep it on her bedside table, too scared she would lose it if she wore it” I placed it back inside and pulled out a photo frame. The woman didn’t need to explain, I already knew who it was. Darcy as a child, sitting between her parents. She looked more like her mum, but she had her father’s eyes.
“Darcy insisted we frame it, there is another picture of her with her mother as a toddler inside the back of the frame if I’m correct” I opened the back of the frame and another picture fell onto my lap from inside and sure enough, was a picture of Darcy as a toddler kissing her mother’s cheek.
“Majority of the Thompsons belongings were sold as in this rare instance, there was no relatives to take them. The money has gone into Darcy’s savings, the police and bank will have more information of the Thompson fortune than me” I nodded, glad Darcy was left with money to use and get her life back on track. I would offer to let Darcy live with us as long as she wants after she is allowed to leave the hospital, as I was sure she wouldn’t want to live alone, and would need assistance with many things.

I placed the picture back into the silver frame and pulled out masses of paintings of all shapes and sizes, most paper and few on small canvases.

“Again, the girl loved her art. She would go down the road and buy supplies at the art shop using her pocket money. Her room was full with paintings, on canvas or just paper. Any spare time she had would be spent painting. It was her hobby and biggest passion. I examined two large pieces of paper and viewed paintings she had created. She had quite the talent, especially for her age. 
“The morning after she went missing, I remember thinking she may have ran away like some orphans do before the police would find them, I knew Darcy would have taken her art supplies with her but they were laying neatly on her desk, and not a single item of hers was missing ” I placed everything back in the box.
I pulled out a large book from the box and after flipping open the cover I realised it was a photo album.
“They were such a beautiful family, such a tragedy that two of them passed at such a young age” I flipped through a couple of pages before feeling as though it wasn’t my right, and closing the book. There was only one item left, a small wooden doll wearing a lace dress. I didn’t see how this could possibly be as treasured as the other items.”
“Her father made it, he was a builder, but in his spare time crafted furniture, toys and all sorts of bits and bobs. Darcy would always go on and on to me about how he made her an entire dolls house and the kitchen table, and this doll right here” I studied the doll and how much detail had gone into making such a thing.
I placed everything back in the box as neatly as possible and closed the lid.
“Thank you so much, I’m sure Darcy will come to visit once she is better” I stood up and the woman led me back to the reception.
“Take care of her” I promised her I would and after that I left, my thoughts of Darcy and truly how terrible the last nine years of her life had been.