When Summer turns to Winter
July. The beginning of summer. For Rachel, this time of the year was welcomed with open arms. The promise of a carefree break and sun-kissed skin was almost too good for her to turn down. She sat in the haven of her back garden, watching the world go by as a gentle breeze ran it's fingers through her hair, soothing her of her greatest fears, her greatest worries, her biggest regrets. Time to reflect was just what Rachel needed. She had always loved time alone ever since she was a child. I guess back then it was all she had ever known. You could say that she was a loner. Always the last to be chosen in PE, always the one left sitting alone in the library catching up on her studies. I guess something's never change. Rachel would much rather be in her own company over anybody else's, even now. Being with herself was easy, relaxing even. She had no one else's feelings to spare. She could quite basically do whatever she wanted without thinking of the consequences. Those were yet to come.
She lay back on the sun lounger, squinting up at the beaming sun to catch a glimpse at the ever changing sky. Clouds merged together in a craze of white paradise. I suppose on a day like this, clouds should be hidden faraway to let the glistening blue sky take the opportunity to dominate the sky. But, this was England. Things don't always turn out the way you plan as Rachel was about to find out now.
The knocking of her front door awakened her from her seemingly unbreakable trance. Reluctantly, she heaved herself up from off the sun lounger and began her journey back through her house until she arrived abruptly at the front door. Through the small stained-glass window of it, Rachel could make out the silhouette of a tall, dark figure lurking around in the patio of her house. The figure was unexpected and make her stomach twist into knots of anxiety and disbelief. She thought this man was dead.
Rachel didn't know what came over her. She didn't understand how she could effortlessly slide the door off it's latch, poke her head through the hole she had created for herself and open the door almost a fraction of an inch to see if her eyes were deceiving her or not. They weren't.
"Rachel." The voice was cold and showed no real emotion. It set a thunderstorm on the luminous sky, crashing down waves of hate and rage down onto the ground below. This time, he wouldn't be going anywhere.
"What... what... why are you here?" Rachel couldn't help but stumble across her words. Not only was her voice shaking, her body was too. She shook physically, fearfully, knowing that no one could save her now. She was all alone this time.
"I've come to pay you a visit. What's wrong with that?" Everything.
He spoke with such courage even though Rachel already knew what a coward he was. To him, this felt natural, as though it was his duty to pay her some attention after all this time. It had been four years since she had saved his life. Maybe now it was time for him to save hers... or to harm it again. The choice was entirely up to her and her amount her cooperation.
"Let me in," he demanded plainly. She had to give into him, yet she couldn't bring herself to. She wouldn't dare think of what would happen if she disobeyed him. She'd done that before and she didn't like the outcome but still, she couldn't let him win. Rachel Mason loved a good fight; winning was the only option to her.
"Why? Why are you here? What do you want?" Rachel spat her words; they were no longer laced with fear. She had confidence. She was strong, he wouldn't break her. Not again. "It's been four years. I thought you were... I thought you were..."
"Dead?" he stated, the questioning side of it lost. "Yes, you can say it. You thought I'd died. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"
"No! I tried to save you, I tried to save your life!"
"You did because look..." He threw his arms up in the air to show that he was, in fact, very much alive. As long as he had a pulse, Rachel knew she'd never be safe again. Not now, not ever. "... here I am. You did save me! I want to thank you; properly."
"How?"
Rachel studied him as he lurked in her porch. He looked exactly the same as he had all those years ago. It was as though he hadn't aged a day. His tight, tanned skin remained unblemished, surprisingly, despite all it had been through; thanks to himself. He wore casual jeans and a white/blue pinstriped shirt. Newly polished shoes fitted ordinarily around his feet. He smirked as he noticed her eying him up and down. He thought she was checking him out. He couldn't be more wrong; flattery would get him nowhere.
"You haven't changed," she sneered, a glare fixed firmly into place. She'd passed the point of resentment. She thought he had already gone straight to hell. Rachel was wrong and not for the first time that day.
"Let me in, Rachel," he demanded, only softer this time. It appeared the rough approach was getting him nowhere.
"No."
"Sorry?"
She really didn't want to test his patience.
"No, I will not let you in!" she repeated, a lot more forcefully than she should've done when dealing with him. "Quite frankly, I don't condone having scum in my own home. I'd defiantly draw a line at you... you're the scummiest of them all!"
She had this coming.
"You bitch!" he screamed. Within an instant, he had grabbed her by the throat and pushed her against the side of the wall. He was in her house, clutching her face, his breath hitting her as shivers descended down her spine.
"Get off me," she whimpered. Her energy seemed lost, tears pricked the back of her eyes.
Squaring his face even closer to Rachel's, he grinned spitefully. Her attempts to brake free were poor. She wriggled her head within his grasp, she was close to tears as she took sharp intakes of breath. Fear was written all over her face.
"You have me right were you want me, don't you?" she whispered daringly, unable to look him directly in the eye, scared of what could become of it.
"I do. Well done."
Silence fell. She swallowed hard. Neither moved. He kept his eyes fixed directly on her face. He actually felt sorry for her, Rachel seemed so weak, her fight for freedom forgotten.
"Am I hurting you?"
She nodded as best she could, turning her gaze to peer through the still half-opened door. Light danced through the gap left open though it showed no hope. Pathetically, Rachel searched for a face; someone she knew; someone to help. She saw no one.
"What do you want with me?" she faltered.
"To say thank you." He frowned. He thought he'd made that clear already.
"There. You said it. Now go and leave me alone!" she shrieked, the level of her voice starling him. Caught of guard he let go of her jaw. Rachel breathed a sigh of relieve; she was safe for now.
"Go. Please. I'll call the police," she warned, stepping further and further towards the phone placed lazily along the table by the stairs. He followed suit.
He scoffed. "I've heard that one before, off you on a number of occasions".
"Well, I mean it this time!" she tried, breathing heavily, her shaking state had returned. "Leave me alone! Why now? Why now after all this time have you come back to 'thank me'? I know you. You're motives aren't the right ones!"
"It's been too long Rachel," he reasoned, his steps getting closer to hers. She dared to speak.
"Yeah, too long! I preferred it that way!"
"Don't say that... you know how alike we both are." It wasn't the first time he'd told her something along those lines. The memory made her shiver, causing her to take yet another step back to get away from him. It didn't work; still, he followed suit. "You can't get away from me you know..."
They were nearing the stairs. Rachel could feel the back of her legs coming into contact with the first step. She stumbled as he continued to close in on her. Involuntary, Rachel's legs buckled from beneath her. She ended up lay against the stairs, his piercing grey eyes peering down on her, sneering. He leered over her petite frame, towering over her, the power rushing to his head.
"Don't disobey me Amanda," he whispered into her cheek, daringly. She felt sick to her stomach. Amanda. Why couldn't he let it go? "Be a good girl and do as you're told."
Rachel felt patronised, humiliated, and disgusted in herself all over again.
"Stuart?" she whispered. He grabbed hold of her wrists forcefully, pinning them up against the stairs above her head. He was in control. She need a remainder of that.
"Please...?" She was practically begging him now. All she could see was his face, smirking at her. He had dominance against the rest of this body. She feared for what he'd do next.
"Shhh up," he hissed. He'd heard a noise from outside. It stopped him in his tracks. Regretfully, he let go of Rachel's wrists. She shot up into a sitting position on the stairs, relief rushing through her entire body.
"What is it?" she asked, almost chocking over the fear of her words. She brought a hand up to wipe her hair away from her face so she could see properly. The world seemed much more vivid once she'd done this.
"A noise."
Rachel heard no more. Instead, Stuart neared the door. Light filled the room as he pushed it aside to reveal a figure stood in the doorway. Rachel's heart skipped a beat - numerous beats, in fact - as she opened her mouth to gasp. No words could form in her mouth though. She swore she had stopped breathing.
"Look who it is!" Stuart sneered disbelievingly with a scoff. He really shouldn't have.
Before anyone could react, the figure brought his right fist up to swipe Stuart across the face, an action that had been replayed once before. Sprouting a cut lip, Stuart backed away slightly, daring the figure to repeat the action. He didn't. He wouldn't sink down to his level. Stuart's standards were far too low to subject himself down to.
"Stay away from Rachel!" the figure barked, grabbing the younger man by the collar and forcefully prising him out of the house, his peppered grey hair shining through the light of the sun once outside.
"Come back here and I'll kill you," he warned, throwing Stuart out on the streets, a deadly expression fixed onto his face. "Got it?"
He didn't wait for a response. Slamming the door shut in Stuart's face, he went back into the house to tend to Rachel. His Rachel. How that scum had got to her again he'd never know. Passing her house for the first time in months, he'd heard the commotion from outside. He had to investigate. If Rachel was in trouble, he had to help. Despite everything, he still cared.
"Are you ok?" he asked, turning back to the shaking frame that was in fact, Rachel. Strong, selfless, determined Rachel; she now seemed lost. Cradling her shaking body with in her arms at the bottom of the stairs, tears threatened to spill from her eyes. He received a nod in response to his question off Rachel, a small smile adorning across his face.
That was enough for him to know that she was ok. She was better off without him anyway. He'd done his duty and now it was time to leave. Turning on his heel to leave, he stopped. The sound of Rachel's voice stalled him in his tracks.
"Eddie..." she whimpered, uncertain. "... thank you."
Eddie flashed her a grin. The grin that had always caused her to go weak at the knees; today was no different.
"I'm happy to help," he recalled and like a dream, he turned and left, disappearing off the face of the Rachel's earth to go back and tend to her sister and niece.
Crying into her knees, Rachel stayed bewildered as to what had just happened. Stuart, Eddie... she didn't understand it but what she did understand was that she was alone from now on. And the sooner she accepted it, the better. Rachel Mason was destined to a life of loneliness whether she liked it or not.