N is for... Night (Patsy)
For the reviewer who asked for Patsy on her own.
It was the dark that brought it all. Silence of a room clothed only in streetlight seeming to compound the hostility of those memories as they would slither from the recesses of those decades ago.
A chill shot over her arms and down her spine. It was always the dark. It was always the night. That's when it came. That's when she heard those noises again, inhaled that putrid smell as it wafted under her nose, real as the blankets that covered her and the roof that now housed her. Real, it would seem, as though it was only yesterday.
Patsy curled up tighter, dragging the covers over her shoulder, sighing and willing sleep to come ever so quickly.
She had only been at Nonnatus two nights and whilst everyone seemed so lovely, and it seemed like new start, it was when the darkness closed in that caused it and she prayed for day again.
Hiding, forcing herself into the smallest corner she could find underneath the wooden bunk beds closest to the wall where she couldn't be found she hoped. Patsy could still see the feet walking back and forth, back and forth and back and forth again looking for her; wondering where the child had gone and stopping at the doorway. Patsy was sure she had not made a sound, but those boots always came.
She'd disappeared. That was true. Falling back into the recesses of her own mind, not understanding what was going on around her and wondering what had befallen her to live a life like this. The camp became all she knew; no, perhaps all she could recall. Those happy memories seemed to have been force so far down it would take the Almighty to dig them out once more.
Patsy shivered with cold; that memory forcing itself into view of those feet again, pointing directly towards her. Boots. Heavy boots. Standing there, someone high about her speaking in a language of words dripping with anger and disgust. A thump rang down on the bunk bed above her, its reverberations she could still feel now as the wood shook only an inch from her head as she forced her knees closer to her chest, hoping if she was tiny enough she might just disappear. It was much like she lay now, arms clutched around her knees, willing peace.
Then came the hand that dragged her by the ankle, scraping her skin against the ground as small hands tried to snatch hold of the frame above her to hold on fast or somehow delay what was becoming inevitable. She knew she shouldn't shout, scream, cry or even whimper. That would just make it worse and she knew what was coming.
Yes, it was the peace of the night that made it happen.
Hopefully the joy of a new day and a new place would allow her to forget.