AN: Yes, I'm alive! xD I know I haven't updated in forever...I guess I've had writers block, but that's all over with now, hopefully. Enjoy!
"You lied to me!"
The woman's voice rang out, echoing throughout the house. Diana could hear it all the way up here. All the way on the top floor, snuggled into a corner that fit her small frame perfectly. It was a nice listening spot; comfortable, out of sight.
It had been like this yesterday, too; yesterday, when Diana had told her mom about the other woman in her father's bed. She'd quickly shooed Diana away, her face white, and just minutes later Diana could hear the fight begin.
The fight that she had deliberately caused.
It wasn't her fault, her ten-year-old mind reasoned. Of course not. It was father's fault. She'd just been telling the truth. And hadn't her father always told her to do that?
Something resembling a smirk tugged at her lips. That would show him not to get her what she'd wanted. She always got what she wanted.
"I know! I didn't...it got out of hand! I was going to tell you!" This voice was even louder, and deeper. His tone was sharp, like he was trying to shove the words at her mother, stab her with them.
Diana could see the scene in her head; her mother, who had packed her bags and was trying to leave. Her father, trying desperately to stop her.
Something puller at her mind; it was worry. She was scared of being alone in the house with her dad after her mother had left, scared of how he might punish her. But she ignored the pang of fear; that would come later. It wouldn't help to think about it now.
"Please! Just...please, stay!" The deep voice again. It was softer this time, gentler, but still rough. Still the voice that Diana had never trusted, the voice that had never done anything for her. The voice that had denied her, always.
She slowly uncurled herself from the wall, deciding that she wanted to see this for herself. With the softest of steps, she made her way down the hall. She came to the balcony; it allowed her a perfect view of the scene below. She kneeled, her face peeking out from between the poles of the railing.
"No! You can go live with her, for all I care! Do what you want, but I'm done." The woman picked up her suitcases, and turned away from the man who's gaze was piercing into her. Her short, dark hair was still messy, as though she hadn't even taken the time to brush it. "I'll come back for the rest of my things later."
That was when it happened. Her mother took a step down the staircase. From Diana's angle, the entire thing was easy to see. How her mom had been looking at her father, not the steps. The way that her heel had slipped off of the edge of the step. The way that her hands, already grasping the suitcase handles, were unable to grab at anything that would stop her fall. The way that her father reached out to catch her, his fingertips brushing her arm, almost, almost, but too late.
As if in slow motion, she tripped. She cartwheeled, and almost seemed to fly through the air for what seemed like forever, until, with a series of thuds, finally coming to a stop at the bottom.
The air was still. Diana stared at her mother's body, broken on the marble. Her eyes were wide, her breathing quick. Before she could even open her mouth to scream, her father was on his cell phone, dialing 911.
As he hung up, his eyes roamed upwards, towards her. They seemed to pierce her, blaming her.
She let out the scream that she'd been holding in.
Within minutes, she could hear the sirens. The windows were lit with flashing lights, and her father was talking to a young looking officer, gesturing wildly. Diana was still peeking through the railing, unsure if the officer could even see her.
"I...she just slipped...I don't know how..." Her father shook his head, seemingly in shock. The officer nodded, writing it all down.
Two things flashed through Diana's mind at once. There was her mother, being carried out on a stretcher, eyes closed, barely breathing. And then there were the thoughts of tomorrow; she remembered his eyes, blaming her, promising her she'd pay for this. Her fear from before had now increased tenfold, restricting her breathing, blurring her thoughts.
And the guilt. That was there too.
It's not your fault. You're a kid. It's your dad. He did this. He made all this happen. Ideas assaulted her, possibilities swarmed her, anything to get her out of this. Anything to make all of this go away.
She closed her eyes, and picked one.
"He pushed her!" Her voice came from nowhere, reaching down below. Her father stopped talking, turning to stare at her. The officer looked up, surprised.
"What was that?" he said, obviously treating her as a child, a small child who had no idea what she was talking about.
That fueled Diana even more. "They were fighting. She was going to leave. So he pushed her." The lie eased it's way out of her lips cooly, easily. Diana almost believed it herself.
She saw suspicion in the policeman's eyes; he turned to look at her father. "Is that true, sir?"
"No!" He shook his head rigorously. "Of course not. I mean yes, we were fighting, but she just tripped-"
"He pushed her!" Diana screamed, desperate to be believed. She tried her best to look scared, innocent, honest. She let the tears she'd been holding back come to her eyes. "He pushed her, he hurt her!" She buried her head in her arms, hoping that it'd work.
"I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me," the officer said. Diana raised her head slightly, just enough to see him lock handcuffs on her father's wrists.
"I didn't do it! She fell! I swear, I would never..." He turned, to look at Diana. But this look was different; it wasn't frightening so much as it was accusing. Her fault, all of it...
She shook her head. He'd started this. And she'd won. Nothing else mattered. She ran down the stairs, pressing her face against the window to watch as her father was forced into the car.
She smirked, and waved to him. Diana couldn't tell if he'd seen her, but she didn't care.
You're a bad girl, something inside her said. You're bad.
She considered this for a moment, then shrugged.
Maybe she was bad. Maybe she was a bad girl. But if that was what you had to be, then...
...well, then that was exactly what Diana would become.