Jane slowly closed the door behind her, holding the round bronze knob tightly in her hand for a moment after it had shut. She turned to the small girl, staring at her, eating a tv dinner, next to two more sitting at the table, untouched. "I made dinner." The girl said. "The last one is a little cold, because the power went out when it was in the microwave." Jane stood there for a moment, looking from the girl to the meals with tired, hollow eyes. "Which one?" She finally said, in a quiet, level tone. The little girl pointed to the half frozen steak and potatoes. Jane walked over and picked up the tray and fork off of the coffee table. She headed towards the kitchen in her tiny apartment, quickly picking up speed until she was in a full on sprint. She reached her trash can and slammed the cheap plastic tray and the fork into the metal bin screaming and kicking it over. She slid against the wall and began muffled screaming into her hands.
The little girl cautiously walked over to the kitchen and sat on her knees in front of the woman. "My daddy says that when your mad you shouldn't scream. You should close your eyes, take a deep breath, and count to ten. I can show you how to do it, ok?" Jane stopped screaming at the girls nervous words, but still sat where she was, motionless, trembling every so often, staring at the white and black tile between her feet. "One... two... three... four... five..." Jane obediently took a deep breath and counted with the girl. "Eight... nine... ten." Jane slowly lifted her red tear stained face to see the girls outstretched hand. "Come on, your dinner is gonna get cold, and I don't know when the power is gonna come back on so we can't heat it up." She took her little hand and let her lead her to the living room, where they sat on their knees and ate their dinners in silence. Jane almost sat down in the couch out of habit but she had forgotten that Patrick had pushed it against the door as a barricade.
As they finished their meals, the little girl collected the forks and put them in the sink and Jane picked up the trash and threw away the trays. "Can I have something to drink before bed mam?" Jane reattached the lid to the trash can and realized that the two didn't even know each others name. "Sure kid." She went to the cabinet and grabbed a glass. "My name is Jane by the way." She walked over to the sink as the little girl smiled. "I'm Hannah." Jane twisted the knob but no water came out. "Shit." She mumbled. She heard Hannah gasp. "Sorry, sorry." She walked over to the fridge, and opened it up. It was still a little bit cold so she quickly grabbed the orange juice, poured a glass and returned it. "Here." She said handing the glass to Hannah. She gave Jane a
big toothy grin before quickly gulping it down.
Jane shifted from one foot to another, unnerved at the small child staring at her. "Do you need a band-aid?" Hannah asked. She squinted and raised her eyebrow. "Why do you think i need a band-aid?" The little girl pointed at her left cheek and said "you're bleeding." She ran her fingers across her left side of her face and looked at her hand. A few drops of smeared, half dried dark blood resided there.
Tears began to roll down her cheeks again as she fell to her knees, visions of Patrick handing her a gun and begging her to shoot him, him growling and lunging at her, her turning her head away and squeezing the trigger...
She jumped as something soft touched her face. A wash cloth being moved rhythmically in little circles. "What are you doing?" The little girl moved to the other cheek as she spoke. "Washing your face. We don't have any water, but you were crying a lot so that works too. When is that man coming out of his room? I'm really sleepy and he said that he would tuck me in tonight because my momma and daddy can't any more." She stopped wiping now and looked down, holding back tears of her own.
Jane looked into the girls sad eyes at a complete loss. She had no clue how to handle children. Pat was always great with them of course. What would he do? She looked away from the young girl, cautiously opened her arms, and whispered "Come here Hannah." The child flew into her arms and began to sob unforgivably. After a moment, Jane fell into the embrace and she too began to weep. The two cried until they ran out of the energy and tears. They laid down on the soft grey carpet, and slept.