Page 25 of Unwell
Only a distant scream like the squeal of a slaughtered pig. Muffled by stone and glass, but still enough to make my guts bubble.
Another ribbon.
Then another.
A trail so tender against the dirty floorboards, leading right to tattered curtains.
Each shallow breath rattled in my chest. Each step was as sticky as Mama’s muddy fields on a rainy day. The world screamed at me to run. To tuck my tail like a dirty mutt.
Yet I couldn’t.
Red drops speckled the trail, growing fatter with each step. Like red pennies staining the wood.
Then it hit me. A stink of copper, thick enough to gag me at the back of my throat. Like Elijah did when I was bad.
The bloodied ribbons reminded me of my room at home.
Of trapped wrists against my metal bed-frame, and his rage at my bloodied ribbons.
Something waited for me.
I knew it.
My skin crawled as I reached the curtains, fingers trembling so badly I could barely grip the fabric.
Don’t look.
Walk away.
But my hands moved as though they were independent of me, pulling the curtains apart.
Bile, hot and acrid, burned my throat.
A rat dangled from the curtain rod above, its furred body swaying.
I covered my mouth as a scream bubbled up. One of my pink ribbons knotted tightly around its poor throat. Maroon stained the bow a dirty brown. Blood ran in rivulets onto the sill, spilling from the creature’s throat where the ribbon had been pulled tight enough to split the skin. The sweet and sordid smell hit me full force; making my eyes water.
I staggered back, and a scream tore free. My chest tightened as my eyes filled.
Poor Larry.
Poor rat.
Why would someone do this?
The world tipped as spots burst behind my screwed tight eyes.
Nancy appeared beside me. My very own angel. She saw the window, and her face paled, but still she scooped me against her.
‘Get me out of here,’ I gasped between sobs, clinging to her uniform like a child to its mama’s skirts.
‘I know, Ginny. I’m trying.’ Her words were steady, but her pulse was dancing against my cheek. Was she lying?
‘Someone’s trying to make me seem crazy. All I want is to get my baby out of here. She doesn’t deserve this. She needs her father, and me, and a safe place to call home.’
The words spilled out fast and sharp. I wanted her to help me, but would she? Or was she as bad as the rest of them?
Another monster.
