attempt to open the doorknob, it won’t budge. Mum’s shouting outside rises and Little Zoe hides her head under a pillow.
Wait.
I stare between her and strain to hear what my parents are saying. Dad was never a talker. He didn’t raise his voice or express his displeasure in anything. His existence was swift and calm. I can recall the number of times he argued so loudly.
It hits me.
This isn’t a dream. It’s a memory. My gaze strays to the calendar above my childhood desk. It’s weird how I forgot all about it. A Barbie doll and a robot, missing an arm, stand close to each other on top.
Dad got them for me. I told him I didn’t want my Barbie with a Ken doll because Ken dolls were boring. Dad got me a strong robot. I was over the moon that day. It was maybe the happiest memory I had with my dad. The next day, I woke up to find the robot’s arm missing.
Mum said that’s what people like Dad do. They make you happy then they take it all away.
My parents are fighting down the hall and I’m stuck here with Little Zoe because she refuses to hear them.
I refused to hear them.
“Zoe.” I try to shake her but she doesn’t move. “Open the door.”
Mum’s shouts become hysterical and almost scary.
“No, you won’t!” Mum yells. “You can’t leave!”
No. The memory is reversed. Dad said that and stopped her from leaving, not the other way around.
Tears fill my eyes when a crashing fact hits me.
This is the last night I heard the fighting. The next morning, they’ll both be dead.
“I won’t allow my daughter to live with someone like you.” Dad’s voice is restrained. He usually holds his temper more than Mum, but not that night. “You’re ruining her. She’s only a child, stop filling her head with your nonsense.”
“She’s mine to do whatever I wish!” Mum’s muffled voice. “You think I’ll let you live happily ever after with her? Over my dead body.”
No. It’s the other way around. Dad said that. Mum wanted to protect me. Dad wanted to kill me.
“Remove that pillow,” I coax, sitting beside Little Zoe. “Please open the door. Let me see Mum one last time.”
Little Zoe is whimpering and murmuring something. She lets go of the pillow and hugs her knees to her chest. Tears stream down her cheeks as she chants in a low haunted tone.
“Daddy isn’t a hero, he’s a monster. He kills children like me in the war. I shouldn’t love Daddy because he forced Mummy. Daddy is one of the bad guys…”
A sob catches in my throat. I don’t even remember this. This whole night is a blur in my memories, but I didn’t realise I was in so much pain back then.
I reach a hand to Little Zoe’s head. I want to stroke her hair and tell her everything will be all right. It won’t, but I needed to hear that at the time. I needed someone to give me comfort, but I never got any.
This small, whimpering girl will grow into a woman full of bitterness.
The moment my hand touches her, I’m thrown back to the present, still whimpering. Tears glue my lids together and stream down my cheeks.
I open my eyes and the face hovering over me causes another sob to tear from my throat.
Shadow sits on the side of the bed, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”
He sounds genuinely worried like he hates seeing me cry.
I sit up and throw myself in his arms. I need to hug him and make sure this warmth is real.
He didn’t leave me alone.
He’s back.
His fingers thread through my hair and he strokes the strands dampened with sweat off my forehead. We remain like that for what seems like forever. My breathing slows down the more his touch soothes my nerve endings.
“Who did this to you?” he asks slowly as if he’s plotting murder.
“No one.” I trace my fingers along his jawline, half-expecting him to disappear. “I thought you won’t return.”
His lips lift in a smirk. “You can’t get rid of a monster, beautiful.”
“Then why are you only here now?”
He strokes my bottom lip as he smiles. It’s not any smile. This one is full of triumph as if he scored some championship. He thinks I’m finally giving in and maybe I am. At this moment, I don’t want to be alone with my thoughts and screwed up childhood memories.