A Dance of Life

2

When I wake up, I'm on the floor with no recollection of how I got there.

How did this happen to me? I ask myself when I wake up. I'm on the floor with no recollection of how I got there, but as confused as I am, I know exactly what happened after I blacked out. I can feel it with every fiber of my being.

I curl up in a ball but the tears refuse to fall. I don't know how I'm going to tell Patricia, or Frederic or anyone. I can't go to the police station in the state I'm in and I don't even think there'd be a point. The man is already wanted for murder, my telling them wouldn't aid in the investigation, it would only expose me. I stay curled up, trying to think of what to do but my mind is a jumbled mess. My phone rings, shocking me out of my reverie.

The caller ID shows that it's Patricia but I don't pick up. If I do, she'll instantly know that something is wrong and I can't tell her. She'll only blame herself and the only person to blame is me. If I had given them a call, this wouldn't have happened.

*Ding.*

You were supposed to call me! But I guess you're asleep. Good luck again, I'll have a nice lunch waiting for you when you get back.

I sigh and put the phone back in my pocket. I feel for my other belongings and everything is there. I guess he didn't find anything else of worth.

I know I can't stay on the street and I still have my class tomorrow so I chin up and continue the journey home. The numbness is starting to fade and the pain escalates. I grit my teeth and stumble down the street, fighting through it and making sure to keep to the lights no matter what.

You just need to lay down, Annelise. You'll lie down and when you wake up tomorrow you'll realize that this isn't such a big deal. You'll be fine.

***

"Annelise? What are you doing here?" Patricia asks me from the couch as I come through the door. Bella and Franky are seated on the floor, using the couch as a backrest. I notice that they're watching reruns of Gossip Girl. Fun.

My first instinct is to tell her the truth, but I push it under. My second is to tell her that Frederic and I fought, but I think about the narrative I would have to tell him, and I change my mind.

"I didn't want to stay there anymore. So I, um, I had Freddie drop me off. I wanted to sleep in my bed." I pull my hoodie over my head and walk to our room, trying not to wince. "It's cold outside," I tell her in reply to her questioning look.

I feel her eyes boring into my back, but I ignore it and keep walking. Once I'm inside the bedroom, I quickly strip out of my clothes and throw them into the furthest part of the cupboard. I enter the bathroom and lock the door, turning on the hot water for the tub, so it fills up as I examine myself.

After turning this way and that, I conclude that the scratches and slight bruises can easily be covered up with makeup, but it's the ones I can't see that I'm most worried about.

I sink into the bath and welcome the burning heat; this is a pain I can control. The door-handle for the bathroom jiggles and I jerk up, pink water sloshing over the side.

"Ellie?" Patricia says softly, knocking on the door. I sink back into the water, and my heart aches; she only calls me that when she's extremely worried about me. "Ellie, please open the door. Why'd you lock it?"

As much as I would rather ignore her, I know she'll keep knocking until I answer. "I'm fine, Pat, just tired. I simply want to take a bath, then head to bed."

"Did you guys fight?"

"Nope," I reply, popping the 'p' to try and sound playful. "Honestly, I just missed my bed and wanted to be around you guys, even if I'm not with you."