This is just a short stream of consciousness style story written straight after the live episode. It takes place after Ronnie's confession and Roxy entering the bedroom. I think it is mostly me trying to get my head around what happened while still in shock but I thought I'd post anyway. Title is from Courtney Love's song How Dirty Girls Get Clean, I've been listening to it a lot lately.
Now Watch Them Unveil
The walk back to the pub is uneventful and you are acutely aware of a strange silence. The sense of foreboding presses against your heart and pulls at your nerves telling you to run. You think it is silly because the bad things have already happened; they were all set into motion such a long time ago and continue to run free like water in cracks and crevices.
You can't possibly hurt anymore.
But then you are just being foolish again because it doesn't stop, it never stops. And now your sister knows and what is coming next might just be as painful.
It had been the look in Stacey's eyes that told you everything you never wanted to know, eyes dark and shining with the defence of impenetrable hate. You felt as if you were looking in a mirror.
And it all had come rushing back like waves upon the shore, every damn thing you tried to suppress and forget, suddenly is as vibrant as the paint that irritates the sensitive skin of your hands.
You were left quietly reeling in horror as the girl bolted, unable to follow her because coming insular was the only thing keeping you in one piece. But you wanted to stop her. You wanted to try and offer her some kind of comfort. Mostly you want to apologise because you never had the foresight to believe that your father could do that to someone other than you. If you had spoken out none of this would have happened. You wish you could do something to spare the young woman the pain you live with every day.
You had always tried to limit yourself when you think back to what he did, tried to make yourself as small and cold as possible so that there was less of you to hurt. It was not till Jack mentioned that you always sleep scrunched up on your side that you realised you even do it while unconscious, sometimes it fails to stop the dreams.
The Vic looms over you and you blink in surprise as you wonder when you stopped thinking of the building as home.
You sneak easily enough unnoticed through the back door, laughter and loud music coming from the bar and you try to remember the last time you laughed and think about how far away it all seems. The upstairs rooms are empty but you are too involved at the task at hand to appreciate the retrieve.
The paint stripper takes most of the paint off your hands even as it stings the broken skin. Swirls of red disappear down the sink and you can't help but wonder why it is not always that easy, how thing linger and rot till you are damaged beyond compare.
You don't think about things, or at least you try not to, over the years it has become a constant battle to stay afloat in your own misery. You need to get the red off you because you keep seeing flashes and you can not relive that again, you cannot name it even in the privacy of your own head. Out, damn'd spot, you want to cry as you feel his phantom weight on top of you again. Danielle's and your father's blood warm and sticky against your palms like it never will wash away.
It is not bad luck how people keep dying or getting hurt around you. And then all manner of calm leaves you as you frantically try to clean your hands and hope that it is enough.
You pull away from the sink gasping for breath a towel clutched between your fingers as you recklessly wipe the last physical reminders away and hope you can do the same with the ones in your mind. The tap still running as you leave the small room but you barely spare it a thought.
Fighting just seems like an impossible task and you are so tired. But now your sister knows and you can't help but hope that maybe eventually she could help you carry the burden. You almost burry yourself in the bed sheets as you lie down but hiding did not even work when you were a child. The snow still settled and he still found you.
Instead you curl up at the foot of the bed, stained towel forgotten at your feet. You just need to rest a while, just a second to collect your thoughts. Roxy will be back soon and you imagine what her defiant disbelief at your betrayal will hurt like, but for now you have the silence.