Jac crossed her arms in defiance, declining the chance of expressing her secrets. Oliver sighed, titling his head in an act of encouragement, refusing to be repelled by her harsh exterior. Slowly, she turned to look at her mentee, and relaxed her arms from the pressure of the incessant staring from his starling blue eyes. Jac exhaled. "Ok… I'm slightly claustrophobic…" She admitted hesitatingly, brushing the hair out of her eyes. Oliver showed no recognisable emotion before uttering a single word.
"Right…" Jac raised a mocking eyebrow at his reaction - she had been expecting something different. Ollie formulated a question in his mind, weary at what Jac's response would be and knowing this query would not be a welcomed one. "Why? You were obviously not born like this, well not carved out of an ice-berg with that fear…." He began. Jac forced a petty half smile to conceal her feeling of unease. "You do have a heart don't you." Oliver said, flabbergasted at his mentors signs of weakness. Jac looked away.
"Actually, I do have a heart, but I left it in the freezer." She voiced, aware of her colleagues view of her: The Ice Queen. Something screeched above them and Jac jumped, brushing her hand, for only a second, upon Oliver's. Embarrassed, Ollie coughed, adjusting his hand to tweak his tie, but found that it was not there, he was bare-chested. Finally remembering, he stole a glance at Jac's arm, he could tell that it was hurting her as she hissed quietly under her breath every time she flinched.
"So, why are you claustrophobic?" He asked, mastering enough courage to continue the conversation.
"Ha! Do you really want to know?" Jac mocked, everyone faltered at this tactical question.
"Well, as I have nothing better to do..." Oliver replied. Jac froze. She was now deathly quiet, on the verge of tears. The memories were too much. She turned her head, her eyes fixed on the end of her stethoscope. Could she tell him? Would he listen? Closing her eyes, her mind was a tempest, slicing her usual composed persona into someone desperate, reaching out, trying to keep her head above the water. The words played around her tongue, refusing to form sentences. Minutes past.
"My dad…" Jac at last managed to say. "He… drank… a lot… He did some evil things…" She shivered automatically, remembering. "There was this one time… I was six… He came home from work, my mother was out, and he was drunk. Very drunk. I could smell it on his breath…"
Jac Naylor smiled as she drew. Her pencil was a portal to unspoken thoughts and feelings that could be expressed in picture form, something little Jacqueline rejoiced. Gradually, the image began to appear, the swirling lines and dark shading joining as one. It was her and her dad. Happy. Jacqueline took a moment to examine it and assess how good it was. She loved drawing, and she loved writing, it was a world that she could control, nothing bad ever had to happen and she liked it that way. Suddenly, the door screamed a loud bang that reverberated around the room, deafening, piercing - a signal that he had arrived. Jac caught her breath. Silence shrouded the house. The sound of objects hitting the floor followed, pursued by the grumble of a man. Gingerly, Jac placed her feet onto the carpeted floor, and, after much hesitation, stood up. She reached out her hand, turned the handle that led to the hallway, and stepped outside. The hallway was white, as white as the girl's skin, or as white as the snow that had fallen outside. Now, all was quiet – it was unearthly – and she unwaveringly looked downwards beneath the spiralling staircase. Jacqueline ascended the stairs slowly, pulling her velvet dressing gown closing to her trembling body. The figure of a man was her first sight; he was tottering on the spot, talking to someone who had no presence there. "Dad?" She whispered.
"What!" Keith answered, lurching towards her. Jac could smell the alcohol on his breath.
"I drew you a picture…" Jacqueline said, her voice faltering at the edges – it was laced with slight fear.
"What?" Keith replied, snatching up the paper with his murky hand, creasing the edges with dirt. Blood seeped from a wound on his head – the vestige of a late night pub brawl. Seeing this, Jac's brow furrowed in concern.
"Do you want me to help you daddy? I can fix it; I did it at first aid club." Keith bent his knees and place his hands, forcefully onto her shoulders, so she had to stare into his cold, dead eyes.
"Why did you go first aid club! This medical knowledge won't get you anywhere, plus you're too stupid to understand it. Your probably kill me without knowing." He smirked.
"But… I might want to be a doctor daddy, to help people." Jac pleaded, her green eyes fixed onto her dad's brown ones, hers not yet a lost meadow.
"Why would anyone want to be a doctor? No, your beauty would be wasted. In a couple of year's time, you will join my business." Keith said, brushing the hair out of her eyes, cocked his head and lustfully examined her.
"What is your business daddy?" Patting his nose, Keith straightened his arched back, glancing drunkenly at his daughter.
"But, I still want to be a doctor; I drew me as a doctor in that picture." Jacqueline argued, vigorously pointing at the drawing in her father's shaking hands.
"Well… THIS IS WHAT I THINK OF YOUR PICTURE!" Keith yelled. Viciously, he ripped the image into a thousand, tiny shreds of paper which fell gently onto the tiled floor, much like Jac's broken heart. Tears began to trail her cheeks, the sadness and hurt apparent in her features and evident in all her feeling.
"But…" She whimpered, resisting the urge to kneel down and repair the damage.
"NO BUTS, YOU WILL NEVER BE A DOCTOR!"
"But…?"
"I SAID NO BUTS." With a chilling lunge, Keith struck Jac, hard, over the mouth, causing her to crumble down to the floor.
Oliver sat, rooted to the floor, next to the trembling figure of Jac Naylor who was now rocking back and worth gently, arms protecting her sense of emotion yet again.
"But, that doesn't explain why…?" He finally said, touched by the alarming story.
"You're not very patient are you? I'm getting there…"
