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Scene #26
It was a scene that had been repeated many times in her life. Lilian could barely remember a time when John wasn't hitting her mother, but it had never been this bad. She screamed as John kicked Mama, as he yelled and cursed. It didn't look like he would ever stop.
She couldn't take any more. Lilian felt the world turn upside down and sideways, making her tummy ache. She could hear buzzing in her ears, like hovering bees. She dragged herself to her feet, staring at her stepfather and the now unrecognizable form of her mother on the floor of their home. All she could think of was the blood, the bright red splatter decorating the floor and the wall, and the squelching noises made with each blow he made.
The buzzing grew louder and louder until she covered her ears. She stared at John, took in his reddened face, blood stained suit, and watched as the monstrous expression turned to confusion. He'd noticed the objects around the room, circling the two of them as if in a tornado. Vases, jewelry, pillows, her mother's hairbrush, items no heavier than her parents' bedside lamps, were flying through the air, colliding with one another, and smashing against the walls. Lilian watched as they began to fly at John, striking him again and again.
He tried to duck, to run for the door, but a lamp hit him in the back of the head and knocked him down. He turned and stared at her in horror.
"You freak. I knew something was wrong with you. Spawn of the devil!"
She continued to stare at him. Lilian felt an inner calm, unafraid. It was as if she was watching from the outside, distant, not at all a part of the chaos that was happening in the room even though tears dripped from her cheeks and ragged, uneven breaths tore at her lungs.
She watched as her stepfather grabbed his chest, as his face twisted in a grimace. He gasped out loud, trying to breathe but couldn't. His skin went from red to white, and to a pale blue. He fell onto the floor, a horrified stare in his eyes. She stared back at him as he died.
The moment he was dead, everything dropped to the floor and became still, silent. Even the buzzing in her head was gone. Her shaking hands fell to her sides. She bolted out of the room to her secret hiding place, terrified of what had happened, what she had done.
It took two days before anyone came to the house. Lilian, weak, exhausted, and hungry, heard the sirens approaching, which later became voices downstairs. There was the sound of mumbling in the distance, coming from below, but she wasn't about to go see what it was.
The voices grew louder, calling her name. She curled up into a tighter ball, pulling the blankets around her until she was hidden away, concealing herself from the strangers, and the world outside of her safe spot. The voices went away for a while, but returned some time later, accompanied by the sounds of moving objects; the scrape of boxes being shifted, a table being set into a different spot.
The closer they came to her hiding place, the stiller and tenser she became, like a baby deer hiding in tall grass from hunters. She heard the boxes being shuffled and the old trunks being slid across the wooden floor. The dresser was next, and soon her blankets were carefully pulled aside.
"I found her!" A man called, and the sound of hurried movements followed.
A hand touched her cheek, warm against her cold skin. She jerked back, her eyes snapping open.
"She's alive!"
A collective cheer came from the rescue workers, and her body jolted. Her heart jumped and began to race and her breathing became rapid and shallow.
Everything went black.
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