Spirit of the Dismantled

(M: Contains sexual scenes, offensive language and abuse) "I can't do this anymore. Why did I put up with that crap for 14 years? Why!!?" Cynthia is sick of being abused and mistreated. She just wants out and fast. With home life getting worse by the second, she needs to escape. With nowhere to go, she is positive that all is lost until a handsome boy comes to her rescue and little does she know that she'd need him like he needs her. The similarities that they share are disarming and together they embark on a journey where it takes two to survive.

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10. Chapter 10.

Harry's P.O.V

"Thank you for that son," my mother hops into the car looking very much the tired being. She looks happy though which makes me happy.

"That's okay mum. Just happy to see some color in those cheeks of yours. How was your day today?" I smile across to her as we set off. 

"It was lovely catching up with Tia. She was very much the accepting person despite all that I'd done. Said she was just glad to know that I'm in safe hands," she reaches over and rubs my shoulder. I lean in toward her touch.

"We talked over a glass of red and she made the loveliest pasta. It was delicious. I told her everything and she said she understood. I never knew she was in an abusive relationship. She managed to get out of it with the help of her family. Said it was hard but what situation like that isn't? Who would've thought. She's looking radiant now; maybe that's why she was so depressed and all the last time I saw her. It was nice, talking and all," we're riding along the main road. Not so far from home now.

"That's great mum. I'm really happy knowing that you're happy. If I had of known that this would make you smile, I might of done it a little sooner," I reply nicely. She smiles a sad smile.

"Yeah, well it was kinda my fault for not listening but I'm glad that I did now. Thank you," she nods and continues to look out the window into the purple skies. I wonder what Cynthia is doing? I hope she hasn't gone away or anything bad. Was it even a good decision to have left her on her own? She did make a good point that I needed to go to work.

Pulling into the driveway, I notice that there are no lights on anywhere. It's awfully quiet. I turn off the engine and shake mum awake. She pulls herself up and stumbles out of the truck. I hop out, my feet crunching among the gravel. Mum walks toward the house in a sleepy state and I rush forward to open the door.

"I'm fine son," she mumbles but I'm not really focusing. Is Cynthia asleep? I wonder to myself. Walking in, I flick on the lights as mum heads off into the lounge to rest. I go straight for her room. Opening the door, I turn on the light. Cynthia is nowhere. Her bag's gone and the bed is neatly made. There's a dent in the wall. I walk around the bed and notice the bedside drawers open. Some clothes are missing and there's a letter addressed to me inside:

' Harry,

I had to go and do some..things. I'm sorry for not letting you know but I didn't want to bother you. I realized that I've overstayed my welcome. Please forgive me for my absence but I didn't want to put you in danger. You've been so kind and thoughtful and understanding and I really did appreciate you sharing your stories as I did mine. However, it was idiotic of me to accept your offering. It's just much safer and better that I go.

Love Cynthia x'

I growl in frustration.

Why did I listen? She could be anywhere.

What made her leave?

And why did she think that she overstayed?

Was I not clear enough?

I stamp my foot and accidently step on something hard. I look down and grab a phone. It's Cynthia's. I look through the messages and they're all the same. Clicking into the call log, I notice three new calls..all from him. I notice that she made a call to voice-mail at 5 in the afternoon. It's now 8 at night. That was three hours ago. How long ago did she leave? I listen to the voice-mail and recognize a strong male voice. It must be him. His threatening voice fuels my anger as I tremble.

"That bastard!" I scream, crying my thoughts aloud. What game is he playing at? I need to go and find her but suddenly realize with stupidity that I don't know where she'd be. 

"Yes!" I cry to myself. The barn. She must live near it. I doubt that she'd go that far, would she? I have no choice but to start there. Running from the room, I check that mum's okay before planting a kiss on her cheek and heading outside to the truck. It splutters to life as I reverse out of the driveway and onto the road. I hope she's alright. What if..? I can't think like that, not now. 

Pulling up into the car park, I spot the barn in the distance. It's dark but I can see it. I run over, covering the couple of hundreds of meters before I'm at the rusted barn door. I peer inside and see that no one is in here, just the rats. I pull my head out and look around. That's when I see a house up ahead, sitting atop a hill, a rather big hill. There are bushes and shrubbery around it with a rickety old fence. I run over. I can see a narrow little walkway, big enough for Cynthia to get herself through. I scramble up the hill and squeeze myself through the passage. That's when I can hear screaming.

"You little bitch! You thought you could escape huh? You think you're funny aye? Well look at your mother! That's what you did to her you little prick-teasing slag!" Richard booms from inside.

"I'm sorry! Let me go! Please, I'm sorry!" I can hear Cynthia whimper. Anger boils up inside of me as I see Richard dragging her by her hair down a dimly-lit hallway. There's another female who's crying and begging for him to stop. I ball up my fists as the old me kicks in.

 

 

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