Disclaimer: I don't own it. If I did, it wouldn't be so tragic all the time.
The floor lay paved with broken hearts – Richard Lovelace
She was lying on her side on the floor. Her clothes half torn. Her eyes closed. Silent tears were running down her cheeks. The carpet underneath her felt rough against the bare parts of her skin. She moved her arms slightly, unclenching her fists, stretching out her fingers slowly. Her fingers gently slid over the carpet, feeling the tiny bumps in the knitting. She continued tracing small circles in the carpet, making the sensitive skin on her fingertips go numb. She opened her eyes, blinking the remaining tears away.
Everything seemed so big from this perspective. The room was oddly distorted, the chairs looked fit for giants. Her breath was evening out and she tried to relax as much as she could, to stop her adrenalized heart rate from going a mile a minute. Each breath was pushing her chest against the floor giving the coolness of the thin carpet more room to invade her body, making her shake slightly.
She concentrated on the floor, small specs of dust, hair and crumbs lay scattered all around. It could really use a good vacuuming.
The pictures on the walls looked strange, her vantage point obstructed different parts of them, making them look like completely new works of art. It felt surreal. Like she was in another place, a world where nothing was quite as you would expect and everything strange was normal.
She tried pushing herself up, but it took too much effort so she settled for turning halfway, which landed her on her back. She looked up at the ceiling. It was white, vast, empty and so far away.
She was so glad she'd managed to get the boys out of there this time, before anything could happen to them. She was strong, she could handle this, her brothers were still children, they were not supposed to have to deal with this sort of stuff, it was her job as the oldest to protect them, no matter what.
He had passed out by now. She was sure of that. Drunken old fool. She got herself together, gathered her scattered thought and with as much strength as she could muster, she managed to push herself up into a sitting position. Feeling a little lightheaded by the sudden change of horizontal to vertical.
She sat for a while. Listening. Not for anything in particular. Just listening to the different sounds around her. The ticking of the old clock, her father's light snoring, a dog barking somewhere outside. It was all so peaceful, so dull and normal, that she felt she was right back in that same twilight zone she'd experienced only moments before.
After she felt she'd collected herself, she stood. Brushed the worst dust off, straightened her clothes and walked out of the room.
A/N: Don't know what I feel about this one. It came to me while I was lying on the floor. I'm strange I know ;)
