Disclaimer – All the ideas and characters are purely my imagination and are based on no one in particular.
Summary- Georgia lives with her mum Maura and her stepdad Rick, on the outside they seem like a perfectly normal family, but Georgia soon discovers what happens when one argument goes too far! One shot but multiple narratives. Rated T for potentially upsetting content with younger audiences.
Author's note: This is the revised version, I will dedicate this to Laura Brown, for no reason other than she is an amazing girl and I will sorely miss her when she moves halfway around the world!
Georgia
I can hear the muffled shouts from across the hallway, from the other side of my door; the pungent remarks creeping beneath it, intoxicating the entire room with a poisonous atmosphere. Although this isn't unusual for our house, a shudder passes down my spine, I'm glad I have chosen this night to do my homework. It means I can remain in my sanctuary for a little while longer and avoid the tension that will greet me should I go downstairs during their 'cooling off' time, which hopefully should be soon. I keep trying to concentrate on the unorganised mass of papers on my desk, but to no prevail; I keep reading the same line over and over again. Suddenly a sense of urgency blew over me; I now woefully regretted drinking a whole glass of orange juice a few minutes before. Dare I risk it? I can't resist any longer, creeping slowly across the small space between my desk and the door I brace myself before carefully prising the door open as quietly as my shaking hands would allow me to. Only five paces between where I stood and my destination, but I had already been spotted.
Maura
This was the final straw, I was sick of his constant jealousy. I cursed my shaking hands and stuttered retorts as I eagerly tried to fight back to his abuse. I hauled my suitcase from the closet, trying desperately to think of what to take, a house filled with all my worldly possessions and only a small suitcase and a few minutes in which to gather those I could. The accusations continued, worsening, what would the neighbours say? I stormed from the room, unable to take any more and strode over to the stairwell where I would grab Georgia and leave. He didn't follow straight away and so I took advantage of the opportunity and told Georgia, stood in her doorway, to grab a coat, but when he did appear, his face blazed with anger. "I'm leaving Rick, and if you have any sense you'll let us go" I said as confidently as I could manage even though I was violently shaking with fear inside. The calm, gentle man I once knew and had fallen in love with had been replaced with the figure that stood parallel to me now; aggressive, manipulative, surreptitious, sadistic. Mentally saying goodbye to the man I loved, that I knew lurked beneath the hard exterior of the one in front of me, I turned to walk down the stairs and away from here where I could build a new life for Georgia and I. It was in that instant that everything became a blur, he grabbed for my arm, to hurt me or restrain me? But either way I felt my right foot fall from beneath me and an almighty snap filled my ears.
Rick
She couldn't leave me, not now. I still loved her, even if she was sleeping around with half the village, and now I sorely regretted confronting her straight away. The therapist that she made us go to after the last row had said I should be rational and talk first but rage overthrew all other emotions and thoughts. I grabbed for her arm to stop her, there was still time for her to change her mind. But she fell and I stood, binded by shock, watching her hit every step on the way down, only then, by a scream of horror, was I brought out of that trance like state and turned from the mangled body lying at the foot of the stairwell to the horror struck face of her daughter as she stood with a jacket in her doorway, ready to leave.
Georgia
I can hear nothing but the deafening beat of my heart, feel nothing but the door frame I cling to, holding myself up, see nothing but my mother's mangled corpse at the foot of the stairs, taste nothing but the quickly ascending vomit in my throat. Murderer! How can he be so nonchalant; he has just pushed my mother down the stairs! Is she still alive? He regards me with apprehension as I pass him, not meeting his fiercely green eyes, to race to my mother's side. My already trembling hands were now violently shaking, desperately clasping them together and taking deep breaths the steps of first aid whirl through my head. My hands find their way to her neck as I feel for a pulse, frantically changing positions in a desperate attempt to feel a heartbeat, a shed of hope that she is still alive. I realise now that my attempts are futile, and my hands gently caress her cheek as I whisper my goodbyes, all optimism draining from me. I can feel nothing as emptiness consumes me, not even hatred towards him. As I curl into her shoulders, the distinct aroma of her perfume confronts me, a bitter reminder of the times before these when my father was still around, the smell seems to grow with intensity, almost mocking me before I let out a blood curdling cry of sorrow, for nothing else matters anymore.
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