Victoria

Run for Cover

     "Abe? What's going on?" I yelled over the loud beeping.

     "Bomb threat. Could be one incoming." Abe said, looking around the room, "Get to the basement, we'll know if it's real soon enough."

     Abe began frantically rushing everyone out of the room, though he remained calm about the impending threat.

     "We'll know if it's real when? When it hits us?" I asked.

     "Look, man, I don't know what to tell you. Get to the basement for cover if you want, but if you're gonna run, you better start now."

     I looked around the room. Mal's dark eyes were peering at me through the doorway. I ran towards her, taking hold of her shoulders and pushing her towards a crowd that had formed further down the hall. Everyone was pushing and shoving through a doorway while the loud beeping continued to ring throughout the building.

     Mal and I sat on the dirt floor of the basement. I pulled her close to me and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. She clung to me like the scared child I was convinced she was. She buried her head in my chest and I could feel her hot breath piercing through my dirty shirt. I did my best to comfort her, rubbing my hand on her back like I had done when she was a kid.

     Those days seemed so long ago. I missed them.

     What was it? Six years ago? No, Mal is 14 now. It would've been seven years ago.

     It was an unusually cold winter night, just a few days after Christmas. Frost had gathered on the windows and the house was so frigid that we needed to raid the closet down the hall for extra blankets.

     Downstairs, mom and Austin's voices were loud. So loud that I thought the neighbours in the conjoined house were going to call the cops. Of course, they didn't. They were probably as used to it as Mal and I were. Even when the voices got too loud, and the bottles began to be thrown, along with the punches, no one ever did anything.

     I had to be the one to tell Mal everything would be okay. At first, she never believed me. Now, she does. That night, she didn't seem to believe me. She hadn't cried over them in months, but she knew that they were arguing over her.

     "Just don't listen to them, Mal." I whispered from the bed beside her.

     She sniffled, "I'm not."

     "Yeah, you are."

     "Well, they're talking about me!" She said, "They're getting mad at me!"

     "They're not getting mad at you."

     "They are so!"

     "They're getting mad at each other, Mal."

     "Over me!"

     "Whatever," I whispered, rolling over so I faced the wall.

     I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the voices downstairs and the quiet crying of my sister. It didn't help. The voices were still loud and the crying was still quiet. I pulled the blankets over my ears. Still, I couldn't block out the noise.

     "I can't believe you!" Austin's voice pierced through the floor.

     "It's a gift, Austin! So what!"

     "So what! You spent nearly $100 on a gift for the girl!"

     "The 'girl' is my daughter! I'll spend as much money as I want on her!"

     "You don't spend my hard-earned money on some kid!"

     "Don't touch me!"

     I sighed, pulling the blankets even tighter over my ears. I rolled back over, looking at Mal in the darkness. She was curled up in the fetal position, her hands covering her eyes as she shook with sobs. I braved the cold of the house as I crawled out from under my warm covers and towards her.

     "Mal?" I asked, "Mal, are you okay?"

     She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me close.

     "Elliot, I don't want my gift anymore."

     "Your big dollhouse? I think you should keep it."

     "No, no, no. I don't want it. I want mom to take it back to the store."

     "No, you don't, Mal. It's such a nice gift. I thought you loved it."

     "Not anymore. I don't want it."

     "How about you just go to sleep, and in the morning you can make up your mind?"

     "But I can't sleep." She said as she let go of my neck. Her eyes always had a way of finding me in the dark and I could see the sadness in them.

     I brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her eyes, "I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

     Mal nodded, wiping away the last of her tears with her pyjama sleeve. She took a deep and shaky breath, calming herself down. She closed her eyes and rolled onto her stomach. Instinctively, I raised my hand and gently placed it on her back, rubbing up and down. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.

     The yelling continued downstairs for a few hours after. Eventually, it stopped when the front door slammed so loudly that it shook the entire house. I wasn't sure if it was Austin leaving to go to a bar or if it was mom leaving for her sister's house.

     I stayed there for a while after Mal fell asleep. I was afraid that either Austin would come in, drunk out of his mind, or mom would, smelling equally as drunk, demanding we pack our things and go with her.

     What else was I supposed to do? I was barely a teenager, but it was time for me to grow up. Someone needed to be there for Mal, and if it had to be me, then I had to accept my fate.

     Mal's grip on me tightened, and her long nails dug into my ribs. I winced as it brought me back to the real world, but didn't complain.

     "We're okay, Mal," I said, only half-believing it.

     I knew she didn't believe me, but she took a deep breath and calmed down, willing to have some faith in my words.

     The beeping suddenly stopped, mid-beep. It was sudden, like a gasp caught in the throat of someone who had been shot. So abrupt that I was sure it had been hit by a bomb and I was dead, now only a soul waiting to be taken away from everything.

     I looked around, checking to see if everyone else was still there. They were, and everyone seemed to be taking sighs of relief. Some smiled, most wiped sweat from their foreheads or tears from their eyes.

     "What happened?" Mal asked, loosening her arms and sitting up.

     "I-I think it's over," I said.

     People were slowly shuffling out of the basement, looking exhausted from the terror they had faced. I stood up and helped pull Mal to her feet. She coughed a few times but quickly regained her breath. Every time I heard her weakening lungs start one of those coughing fits, my heart skipped a beat.

     "Where are we going?" Mal asked.

     "I don't know, Mal," I answered, "I don't know."