Split the Deck

Chapter 8

He finally came back after a couple of hours, only it wasn't really him. I saw a wine red jumper come into view as the door creaked open and there she stood with a tray in her hands. On top of the tray was a hairbrush and two yellow daisies. My brows furrow at first, my head cocking slightly before I realised that she was coming to brush our hair.

     “You two have been gifted such an amazing opportunity. I know he will be pleased when he sees you.” Patricia says softly, smiling sweetly as she sits on my cot, beginning to run the brush through my wild hair. I wince as I feel the small but constant pulls as the brush's teeth rip through the tangles. Patricia clocks her tongue. “Such beautiful hair, I think I'll put a flower in it.”
    I didn't realise that her fingers had been quick enough to braid me hair, let alone braid the two strands of hair that hang on either side of my head. With little effort she pulled the block of my hair into a wild looking ponytail, the braids neatly tucked and woven into it. The green stem poked the skin of my scalp, forcing it's way past strands. It was fresh, the pedals feeling like velvet. Her fingertips were warm, her tips calloused from the other personalities hard work. I made eye contact with her for a moment, glancing at her from over my shoulder. The corners of her mouth curled slightly, her eyes narrowing.

     “Dennis tells me you are special. You're….unique.”

     “I highly doubt that. There's nothing special about me. The only thing that I'm good at is dance.” I admit, my voice cracking at the memory of movement. My muscles ached as if they were the cramped roots of a tree. I turned my head away from her.

     “Oh, you dance? Well I still have to do her hair, perhaps you could put on a little routine? Nothing too racy, of course.” Patricia suggested, so she knew that I had my phone with me. My mouth went dry at the thought. From the other cot I caught a flash of fear and anxiousness from Marcia. I looked at her quickly, my eyes screaming ‘not yet.’ I stood up, looking at my phone and scrolling through my song list. I already knew the song. My heart leapt out of my chest as I tapped Lovely by Billie Eilish. At the start of the piano I tucked my phone in my pocket, slowly circling my right foot around until it reached the front of me. As the violin joined I switched my weight to my right foot, and turned to face them, dragging my left foot behind me.

Thought I found a way….
Thought i found a way out.(Out)
But you never go away
So I guess I've got to stay, now.

     One of my hands crept up my sternum, stopping at my heart, fingers fanning around and suddenly clutching my shirt. I pushed my shoulders forward, making it look like my chest collapsed and popping it forward abruptly as if I was pulling it back out. My head fell back, my other hand taking through my hair. I learned forward slowly, my left knee bending with me.
     I paused my movements, trickling down with the back up voice. I pulsed up and down, up and down, looking almost robotically until my right leg was thrown around, my right hand gliding across my forehead. My pained expression caused Patricia to furrow her eyebrows at me in concern. I pulled myself back up to the front, my fists balling up on my right side and pulling across my pelvis, my right knee popping out to the side real quick before returning to a front bent position.

Oh I hope someday I’ll make it out of here
Even if it takes all night
Or a hundred years.
Need a place to hide but i can't find one near
Want to feel alive
Outside I can fight my fear

     My hands dragged up my body, fingers spread and searching until they found their home around my throat and began to constrict gently. My head lifted as I did then fell back limply, my hands dropping. I dropped back, locking myself into a leaning position before letting myself fall completely. I pushed myself back, my back scraping against the concrete. I pushed myself up into a bridge, the balls of my feet and the crest of my head balanced my weight.
     I wanted to wince at the pain as the concrete dug into me. I stretched my legs out, kicking my left one up and over my head, my hands dropped to each side next to my head and pushed up as I flipped. I landed solidly on my feet and took on step forward with my left foot and brought my right foot around, lifting it of the ground and flaring it as I did three small bounces on my left foot. I brought it down swiftly, and turning twice on the ball of my right foot before falling into an illusion kick. I faced the wall now, the tip of my nose touching it. I rested my forehead against it, dropping to my knees in a slow and controlled manner as my nails clawed the wall in a desperate attempt to dig into it. I imagined myself back in the basement of my parents house, shackled to the floor and bleeding. Waiting for the next visit.
     The song cut off, my phone had finally died but to me it didn't matter. I was trapped in my mind, in a place much worse than this holding room. Silence surrounded my reality but the sound of lashings and grunts and soft, disgusting moans bounced off the borders of my memories. I stood up shakily.
     I couldn't lift my head, I didn't want to face them. Even though I heard a soft gasp and the sound of creaking followed by the sound of shoes falling to the floor. Then, to my surprise, there was the sound of music again.