Madness

Chapter 11

Mrs Curtis was crying.

"Nessa, I'm so sorry."

I fought to keep my teeth from grinding.

"I hate that. I hate people that say they're sorry my mum and Aunt Alice died. It's not their fault. It's no ones fault but my stupid, drunk dad."

I couldn't say anything else. I was lucky to have managed that before the tears welled up and over. I swung a little higher in the tree, and clutched my knees to my chest as I started to rock. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth until the rocking motion calmed me down a little.

"Come here," Mrs Curtis said gently. She was watching me sadly.

I obeyed and she let me sit really close to her. She reached up and held my arm, like she always does when I get upset. The blood from her leg soaked through my t-shirt.

"We need to get you healed," I said, sitting up.

"Nessa, we don't have alcohol."

"Yes we do," I pulled out the small bottle I had taken from dad. "I stole it from dad. I don't know what kind it is, but it smells like his old cupboard, so it must be alcohol."

Mrs Curtis looked shocked.

"You shouldn't have done that Nessa."

"You need it more than he does."

"It's still wrong to steal."

She didn't seem angry though. Or even annoyed.

"Aunt Alice said to use it like a disinfectant."

Mrs Curtis produced a bloody tissue. I poured on some of the alcohol. Then I dripped some into her wound. She gasped. It must sting like disinfectant does.

The wound wasn't too deep. It was deep enough that it would need covered. So I put the alcohol-covered tissue over the wound and stuck it there with tree sap.

"I'm not the best doctor," I said.

Mrs Curtis smiled.

"I'm gonna get you back to the school, miss. You're gonna be fine. I promise."

"Nessa?"

"Yes?"

"Which star is your mother's?"

I pointed.

"That one."

Mrs Curtis smiled.

"You can go to sleep now."

Mrs Curtis obediently closed her eyes. I dropped to the floor. Dad would get nowhere near Mrs Curtis as long as I was here.

It was a long night. I didn't sleep at all. I couldn't. I had to keep watch for dad. Instead, I sat watching the squirrels who dance in the trees around me. I saw a few deer, and even a badger, but nothing else. No dad. Predictably, when she woke up, Mrs Curtis panicked until I went up the tree to let her know I was okay.

I helped her down. I knew she would be fine for a second while I climbed into the thinnest tree branches to look for the general direction of the school. North. Ish. That would have to do for now.

We struggled through the next couple of days. Most of the animals blatantly refused to come near me while Mrs Curtis was there, and only the squirrels and a few brave rabbits approached us. I kept her alive on berries and edible nuts. Dad didn't find us. Not until we were just a few hours from the school.

He emerged from the shadows.

"Nessa," he growled.

"Go," I whispered to Mrs Curtis.

But she couldn't stand on her own. Great. So I had to protect her and fight and make sure she didn't get up all at the same time. This, I reminded myself, is the way Aunt Alice died. Maybe I would die the same way. In the arms of someone I loved. Maybe tonight, Mrs Curtis would look at the sky and see me shinning there beside my mum and my Aunt Alice. Maybe.

But not yet, I reminded myself sternly. I still could fight. I wasn't going to go down without a fight. No chance. Dad would not beat me easily.

My anger erupted and I crouched over Mrs Curtis.

"Go away."

He smiled.

"I don't think so. This is the way your dear old Auntie Alice died, and your poor mother. They died protecting you. And now you are going to die protecting a woman who teaches you Mathematics. Stupid if you ask me. She's just a teacher, not your mum."

"She's more of a parent to me than you ever were," I spat at him.

He growled at me, a growl which I returned with a snarl of my own.

"You were never much of a daughter either. You left me lying in a pile of glass. I could have died."

"I wish you had!" I screamed.

He slashed at me with his knife.

"Missed," I sang as I danced out of the way. "Missed, missed, missed."

I scratched him and he roared. Grabbing my arm, he threw me aside. I wont lie, the landing hurt, but I made it look worse than it was. He walked slowly toward Mrs Curtis and for the second time in four days I saw him prepare to stab.

I jumped onto his back. It was all I could think of. I grabbed a handful of his hair and dropped to the ground, yanking his head back and probably hurting his neck. He was where my natural small structure came from. I held his head there until he started to fall. As he fell, his knife caught my arm and left a cut there. Shallow, but stingy. He clutched at me, and I fell with him.

He rolled on top of me and held up his knife. So this is it, I thought, this is how I die. Lying on the floor at the mercy of the man I have hated for my whole life. It could be worse. At least I'm in a forest. At least I can look at the trees and die with their image in my mind.

My dad dropped his knife once he was on top of me and ripped open his trousers, the way he had in my dream so many weeks before. He reached down to my trousers, and, picking up his knife, he cut them off. And then he was inside of me. It was so much more painful than I remembered, and I remembered intense pain. The way he moved on top of me was horrific crashing up and down and up and down and dragging me with him while he did. It was too late now. There was nothing I could do. He had won the fight.

Don't you dare give up, I argued with myself. Mrs Curtis needs you. If you die, she dies.

And that is what gave me the strength to spit into my fathers face. Into his eye. He coughed and backed up a little, a look of pure rage replacing the relieved gasps of the moment before. He backed up and out, enough for me to weasel out from beneath him and kick him hard enough that he rolled to the floor and stayed there, in pain.

I ran to Mrs Curtis, got my arm under her and pulled her up. Between us, we did the closest thing to a run possible with our injuries. By the time we got to the open grounds of the school, we were limping and staggering, dad right on our heels. He swung the knife, and I just had enough strength to dive, pulling Mrs Curtis over with me, headlong into the grass before I fell unconscious.