Girl on the Bench [Completed]

This will do

Rosa

I didn't hear from Dominic for about five days. Who am I kidding? It was exactly five days. I called him the next day after our lunch and it had rung out to his voicemail. I'd left a message and the ball in his court.

The days ticked by- I started to organise the paperwork for the house (thanking my lucky stars that Mum had signed everything over to me before she died), made funeral arrangements and was stuffed full of food from Sophia. The police still hadn't released Dad's body, they told me it could take weeks. I tried not to think too much about what Dad would look like by then.

I had been interviewed and they told me they had no information. I had mentioned Dominic as a friend who had popped by and found me. I couldn't remember anything about the man who had attacked me. I couldn't picture him and at night, he only showed up as dark solid figure pulling me back and hitting me again and again.

I knew I had to get back into my routine and, early on the Friday morning, I opened Bella's Bakes and headed towards the kitchen. As I poured cake mix into the tins, I felt the muscles in my neck and shoulders relax. I lost myself in the mixing, pouring and icing until I heard Henry and Gail come in and set down their bags.

"Hi guys! I'm through here," I called out.

I finished icing the chocolate fudge I had been working on and turned to see them and uttered a small scream. It wasn't them.

It was Dominic.

**

Dominic

I think it had been 8 days, maybe more since I'd last seen Rosa. It was hard to remember. I remember her lips and her smell but the dates were hard to grab. They were just out of my reach when I tried to think of them.

I remember Paul. I remember Lola. I remember the crowbar.

Lola had told him about Rosa. Paul had been pissed that I hadn't told him. He was even more pissed off that I hadn't been looking for the gang members and being with her.

I talked back. I shouldn't of. He had pressed my face hard onto the glass table until little splinters had flecked off and burrowed their way into my cheek. I watched as Lola sat down and had a fix whilst Paul drove his fist into my stomach again and again.

I think I remember trying to swing back. I shouldn't of done that either. One of Paul's muscle men had batted me with the crowbar so hard that I felt like I was flying through the air, stopped only as my back hit the brick wall.

They had left and Lola had said out of her chair and walked over to me. She bent down and cupped my face. I tried to speak but blood bubbled out my mouth.

"You shouldn't have done that. You know better, Dom."

I closed my eyes and waited for her to leave. She didn't, my eyes flew open as I felt a sharp pain in my arm and then liquid gold run up my arm.

"This will help," Lola kissed me on the forehead, packed up her works then left me.

I know it sounds unbelievable but I've never done drugs. I've never even smoked a joint. I have seen where that can take you, I spend my life with them and trying to protect Lola from sliding any further down.

I don't know what happened then. I don't remember getting back to my flat but I did. The liquid gold spread all over me and I lay on my sofa, punctuated with sharp jabs in my veins and dreamt of coffee, cakes and Rosa.

Now I was here, in her kitchen as she whispered a song as she baked. As she turned and let out a scream. I dropped forward and saw my bloodied reflection in the silver surfaces of the ovens. Was I dead?