Hello, This is my interpretation of The Staircase scene between Kirsty & Warren in S25 E22. Reviews are really important to me, so if you mind leaving feedback, good or bad I'd be so grateful. Enjoy!
Kirsty & Warren – Broken Doll
Kirsty POV:
I feel him come closer, his breathe panting on my face like a tired dog, his eyes so red with fury. The were stuck upon mine. Building up strain from behind as they gazed upon me like meat. Never stopping loosing the concentration. I see his fist reaching slowly up to face, pushing his fingers against my cheek bone with friction. I finally cry, cry til my eye's are red and sore. I observe his movement, his body coming closer to me, like a shadow over powering my weakness, my vulnerability. I feel both of them every second I spend with him. Scared of who I've let him become. I always sit there at night, my mind escapes to places of when I was child, when I was free from him. I look carefully away from him for a second, seeing my only reason why to live, at the bottom of the stairs. Her face covered in fear, fear I should be protecting her from, I look around the room and I see everything a normal family has. A wooden table and chairs with dirty plates on, and spilt orange juice dripping down the left hand corner onto the floor. A line of photo's reminiscing those happy days we once had. Then I look towards my husband's face and look down at my broken body and realise we're not a normal family any more, we're broken like a puzzle.
"You'll never control me Warren" She tells him, letting him see by the strict look in her eyes she's serious. She's done.
He walks away, resting his posture against the corner of the table, nodding his head back and fourth just staring continuously at her. "You know once, you'd let me control you, you'd let me do whatever I wanted" He reminded her, letting her remember every twisted and heartbreaking moment before this one they were living through like a black and white film retracing every forced memory.
She flicked her head, looking away from him. She couldn't bare his face. His shape, his figure, anything. Every part of him made her physically sick.
"You know, I miss the way we were once" He said. Finally interrupting the silence that was taking over the oxygen that remained.
Kirsty looked at him, and laughed. "The way we were? What? When?" She said, her voice now wimpling through the pain he caused her.
"Just...The way you'd smile, those everlasting hugs on the weekends before we had Nita, when we had Nita in the old bathroom, your face when they gave her to you..." He carried on, explaining every detail of what he remembered and loved. He kept looking at his wife, seeing the hurt that empowered her face. The very thought of everything he mentioned was like breaking open her old wounds. The ones she protected so carefully with glue. She never let reality escape her. Like radiation.
"I didn't know you even thought of that any more.." She replied. Balancing against the draws, her body slouched as she for once in her life she actually listened to what he was saying, and actually wanted to him talk more. His words were comforting her. This was the way she remembered her relationship with her husband. Talking, sharing, caring and most of Loving.
"So how long you loved Adam aye?" His face changed. Like an werewolf transformation at the full moon. The pin dropped once again. Those amazing few minutes of happiness now running out of time.
"I don't love him" She didn't dare look at him. One wrong glance and that was her painful body punishment. She hide her feeling from his, she always did. Why express love to an heartless creature?
"You can't even look at me, your the worst liar" He hissed at her looking her up and down. "Nita get up here" He shouted down, moving towards the stairs seeing her frightened face appear through her door, as she the tears rolled down her pale face. Nita looked up seeing her mother cry and observed as she nodded for her daughter to come up and join them. She took small steps up the stairs, carefully entering the room, her heavy breathing becoming noticeable.
"So Nita, you know how much your mother loves Adam don't you..." He began starting on his daughter, letting her realise the type of women he married. He couldn't stay still, walking back and fourth getting more impatient as he waited for his daughters response. "I...I" She cried loudly running towards her mother, pushing her body against the support of her shell, protecting herself against the pain he was driving into her like a knife, a non stopping headache in her skull. His roaring eye's now focused on the helpless young girl stood in front of him.
"Warren just stop, your scaring her" Kirsty demanded, her devastation in her voice coming alight like a fire. She could deal with a few bruises every other day, a punch a week, a verbal comment destroying all hope but not listening to her little girl cry and beg her father to stop.
"Scaring her, I'm scaring you" He shouted back at her, coming closer to her once again, Kirsty pushed Nita away, carefully watching out the corner of her eye where her daughter was standing in case he responded upon her body instead of hers.
That was it. The first time their daughter witnessed it. The next few moment blurred past. A distant hand reaching over Kirsty's face bringing her back into consciousness as she looks up. Her eyes flicking like her an candle as she see her husband stood above her, smiling wickedly towards her, so much pride en lighting came from his body as if he won something.
"This is your fault, it's always been your fault" Warren shouted, his mouth moving so fast it was unstoppable, his body showing his emotions so glorious in their own right.
"No Warren...It's your fault" Kirsty replied back. The anger was building up inside her like a volcano ready to irrupt til it's completed. She needed to explode, let out all the pain and fear gathering together like autumn leaves inside her body. Her figure was a broken doll. So beautiful and perfected as a child, now bruised and beaten like an unwanted toy pushed aside under a bed.
Kirsty sat herself up, rubbing her face, scratching her nails into the deep blood dripping down the softness of her face, feeling the blood run into the corners of her lips trailing down the back of her throat as she tried to spit it out as she felt it come inside. She just sat there, lifeless, looking towards the floor.
"Mum, I can't I'm sorry" She looks over, her daughter crying as her father approaches her. She has no clue. The evil he's capable of, the hurt he imposes.
The next few moments flashed like a power cut. The lightening strike so visable to the destoryed family, A small broken doll, rushing towards the staircase her daughter so frightened and fragile as she runs down the staircase slipping on every step on her socks finding her bedroom and slamming the door shut. Their heartbeats was the only sound made in that house. Thump. Thump. Thump.
"You'll never get rid of me" He snickered back, his hand was against her throat, gripping tightly on her skin, strands of her hair caught in-between the tips of his fingers. Ripping them slowly from the roots. She closed her eyes. Ready. Set. Go.
"Well go on then...If you have guts" She told him, not such a broken doll any more. A fighting solider demanding more than just words, she wanted pain, she wanted it now. She pushed against him, letting him lay into her, letting him break her into tiny pieces. And that was it. "I'm not scared of you any more Warren. Til death do us part..." Her last final words to him.
Thump Thump Thump. CRASH.
"Mum!" A little voice cries out. "He's not moving!"... "MUM"...