Paranoia.
The flat was in total darkness, the only noise was the faint sound of Carla's crying. If somebody was to stand at the door that sound would be the only way of knowing where the broken women lay. Sat in the corner of the room with her knees tucked under her chin, Carla felt safe there - As safe as she could feel in the place where she was raped. There were empty wine bottles all over the floor, puddles of the red liquid surrounding her as she hid from the world. The world scared her now, every noise made her jump out of her skin, every look made her want to curl up and hide. And that's exactly what she was doing.
The effects of the last bottle of vodka were beginning to wear off; the voices in her head were coming back. They were getting louder and louder until she felt like her head was about to explode.
"It's all your fault...you made me do it"
"You're a waste of skin Carla"
"A self-centred, pathetic, dangerous drunk!"
"What else would she lie about...being raped?"
"For giving her what she deserved"
"Carla, she likes is rough...so that's what I gave her!"
Carla needed to make them stop, make them go away, they were driving her insane. She needed some more alcohol that was the only thing that seemed to drown out the voices – even if it was only temporary.
The early morning sunlight began shining through the cracks in the curtains, flooding Carla's apartment with little rays of brightness, but more importantly shadows. It was only then that she realised shed been sat in the same spot for another night, not daring to move in case somebody was lurking in the darkness. All over the room little shapes were forming they played tricks on Carla's mind making her think there was something or somebody – more importantly that one person who she feared so much – ready to jump out and scare her.
As the flat became more visible with the light, Carla plucked up the courage to pull herself up and run into her bedroom as she did slamming the door shut behind her. She threw herself down on the bed and scanned the room for any changes implying that somebody had been there. Although the sane part of her brain told Carla she had been sat watching all night and nobody had come in, there was still that major part that was adamant somebody was out to get her, would get her if she turned her back for only a second.
Carla had given up on what she looked like now, she used to be dressed to the nines, perfect make-up and sleek shiny hair. She pulled an old anorak out of her wardrobe shoved it on over her baggy jumper took a deep breath and began walking out of the flat.