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Ms Castle is clearly used to my reluctance to let my fellow students see my house, as she parks a little further down the road. I grab my bag and say my goodbyes before walking away. I take slow steps until I hear the car pulling away, then quicken my pace and stride up the path, pulling my keys out.
As I get to the front door, I hear the argument. Raised voices. Glasses being smashed. I hesitate for a moment, listening. I know it’s Duncan. History and patterns tell me that this will burn out. I could go in, rush up the stairs to my bedroom, hide out of the way until they both storm out. I could turn around and leave for a while, come back when it’s quieter. I put my hand on the door handle and sigh. I’m tired of having to leave and find somewhere else to stay.
I push the door open as quietly as I can and step into the hallway, listening to the shouting that carries on in the kitchen. I tiptoe up the steps, dodging the ones that I know creak, as the yelling continuing downstairs.
I pass the door to the bathroom, grateful that I went to the toilet at the theatre, as flushing the one here would undo my stealth getting up the stairs. I push my bedroom door shut quietly and allow it to click shut. There’s no lock on the door because twice I’ve had one fitted and twice it’s been broken—both times by my mother when I haven’t been here, clearly searching for cash in my room. I’ve given up replacing the lock. Instead, I shove the chair to my dressing table under the door handle. Putting my bag down in the corner, I sit on my bed, phone in hand. I listen to the argument that doesn’t yet seem to have reached a plateau and play a game on my phone, trying to let the puzzles distract me.
I slide blocks on my screen, the screams breaking my concentration.
“You’re a filthy whore.”
“You’re the one who keeps coming back to fuck me, so what does that say about you?”
I make another block on the game and watch the notification on the screen, telling me I’m a winner. It feels like a personal jibe. I don’t feel like a winner. I’m sitting in the dark, in my bedroom, a chair providing security to my door, playing a muted game and hoping for the silence to come from downstairs.
Mercifully, the screaming stops for a moment. I hold my breath, hoping that means a long peace. I wait for the slamming of the front door, the one that tells me Duncan has gone. Instead, it sounds like the break in the fight is just a reprieve, a gathering of breath before moving up to the second round.
I flop onto the bed. I try not to engage with the words and screaming, just let it wash over me as I count down the number of days I have until I can leave this place, when I can pack my bags and never look back.
Once there’s another wave of silence that seems more settled and longer lasting, I give a loud exhale of breath. I pop my phone onto the bedside table, slip out of my shoes, and curl onto my side. I close my eyes and steady my breathing, wondering how long it’ll take before I can fall asleep.
I must have drifted off at some point, as I jolt awake, my mouth dry, my joints stiff, and I’m desperate for the bathroom. There aren’t any noises in the house, so I assume either they’ve both stormed out, or he has and Mum has gone to bed. I get up, taking my phone with me, flicking on the torch because I don’t want to turn the main lights on.
Everything is quiet when I’m in the bathroom. I drink from the tap, refreshing my mouth. I go to the toilet, wash my hands, and then slowly walk back to the hallway.
“You’re rude.” The voice startles me, making me jump.
I don’t reply to Duncan as I glance at him. He’s wearing only his boxer shorts. I assume whatever fight he had with my mother concluded far differently to the usual, though I guess the claw marks down his chest could be from a fight rather than sex. If it was sex, I’m grateful I slept through it.
I step past him, determined to get to my bedroom. In my mind, I’m running through the actions. Shut the door. Shove the chair under the handle. Sit on the chair to provide extra weight against the door. Wait it out.
He grabs my wrist and pulls me away from the door.
“Let go of me,” I protest.
“When you come into this house, you should say hello. Show some respect to your mother.”
“You don’t show her any respect, so don’t criticise me,” I snap.
“You’re as feisty as she is. Just as sexy, too, even if you’re trying to hide it behind those god-awful clothes.” His voice drips with a mixture of disdain and what sounds like far too much interest. The stench of the alcohol on his breath drifts towards me.
“Let go of me, Duncan,” I repeat.
I pull my wrist away from him, and thankfully he lets me go. I take another step, heart pounding in my chest, and for a moment, I believe I’m free and clear. But when I take a step into my bedroom, I realise my mistake. I’m not free and clear.
Before I can get into my bedroom properly and shut the door, Duncan grabs me again. This time, he doesn’t just latch onto my wrist with one hand. This is a full embrace, arms wrapped around me, one hand reaching up against my mouth.
“You need to learn some respect,” he snarls into my ear. “Let me show you how a woman should respect a man.”
“You’re a tiny slip of a person.”
The words scream in my mind. Encased in Duncan’s arms, I feel exactly like what Joseph described—tiny and insignificant.
It’s instinct that makes me open my mouth against his hand before clamping my teeth down as hard as I can. I don’t know whether it’s just his shock at my reaction or whether my bite is harder than I anticipated it could be, but he yelps and pulls his arm away from me, calling me a bitch.
I don’t wait to hear anything else. I don’t trust the other side of the bedroom door; I don’t think it would be enough to keep me safe. Instead, I spin on my feet and run blindly down the stairs. Thankfully the front door is unlocked. I burst out of the house, my bare feet catching on the little pebbles that have been kicked up onto the path.
I hear the shouts behind me, Duncan bellowing for me to “get back here, you fucking bitch,” and then the unmistakable sound of his thudding footsteps on the stairs.
