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Trapped

The rhythmic ticking of the clock pounded in my ears, or maybe it was in my head, echoing the sound of my quick heartbeat. I sighed heavily, massaging my temples to try and nurse the aching of my mind. I stared out of the window as I waited; the clock seemed louder as every minute went by. I’d thought about running; running for the hills. But I knew fine well he’d find me, and by then he’d be in even worse of a state. There was nothing I could do, no where to go, no one to turn to… I was trapped. Trapped inside of my own head, in the world that I’d chosen over a world which I wished so much I could go back to. It was all my fault, I’d known that for a long time now, and I hated myself for it. Out of all of the male species, I’d chosen him, and he’d screwed everything up good and proper.

Suddenly I became very tired, my eyelids heavy, and so I retired to the sanctuary of my bed. My body had a habit of getting strangely tired at the most inconvenient times. Even though, by law I was still a child, snuggling up with my teddies to get away from the sound of my parents’ constant arguing felt like centuries ago. It didn’t seem possible that it could have only been two years since I was home. Home.. I still called that place home, even though this was my home, and there had never been anything for me with my parents… As sleep washed over me, I could almost hear the shouts and snarls, or maybe that was because I knew what was coming for me…

* * *

The sound of a car crunching on the gravel woke me from my restless sleep. I’d dreamed about being back in my parents’ house, peeking through cracked doors and not understanding the meaning of their whispered fights. I sat up, my eyes oddly alert for someone who’d just been asleep, no matter how restless a sleep it was. I flung myself from the bed with surprising agility and scrambled to the window. A mix of relief and anxiety flooded through me; it was a black car that I didn’t recognise.

My heart was thumping in my throat, and my breathing was quick and heavy. I took my heavy boots off and dropped them quietly so that when I walked to the door my feet merely padded over the wood. I stood on the landing, straining my ears to hear the slightest sound. Eventually it came; the sound of someone trying to open the back door, rattling the handle that I’d locked earlier.

I crept slowly down the stairs, nearly having heart failure every time a stair creaked under my weight. As I entered the kitchen I kept my back pressed against the wall up until where the door was. I leant my head around so that half of my eye could see who the impostor was. I almost collapsed with relief when I saw Callum standing there, stupidly trying to force the locked door handle down.

* * *

“Your hands are shaking.” Callum said, frowning as I passed him the cup of tea I’d just made and sat down at the small oak table. I felt the colour rise to my cheeks, and so raised my own cup to my lips in an attempt to cover the expression on my face. I was still scared, but I wasn’t shaking because I was frightened, I was crying because Callum was the only person who had ever tried to find me, and that meant more than anything. “Sorry.” I said, my voice shaking slightly. “Don’t apologise.” He sighed, taking my free hand in his and squeezing it tight. The ancient butterflies in my stomach that I had thought had died suddenly spread their wings slightly and fluttered feebly. “How did you find me?” I asked, not taking my eyes from our hands. I didn’t know if I could bear to look at him, not knowing if after tonight I would ever see him again. “My dad’s in the police force.” He said, and I nodded, remembering, urging him to go on. “Turns out Alfie’s got a bit of a record.”

I snuck a glance up at his face and his expression was a mixture of smugness and sadness. I couldn’t tell you which one hurt me more. When I didn’t say anything, Callum went on. “I’m really glad you called, Ella.” Callum said, looking hard at me with his deep blue eyes. I shook my head, tears welling up in my eyes, the lump in my throat getting bigger.. “Really, I’m so so glad.” He squeezed my limp hand again. “I never asked you to come here.” I whispered, letting a tear stream down my now pale cheek. Hurt flashed across Callum’s face and I instantly regretted my words. “What’s Alfie’s police record for then?” I asked, changing the subject even though I had a rather large inkling of what he might say. “He used to be very… violent.” He said, staring at me hard again. I looked away from him quickly, hoping he wouldn’t see the truth of his words reflected in my eyes. He noticed my speedy look away and he suddenly jumped up from his chair, his eyes wide. I flinched back slightly at his quick movement, he noticed again. “He- he’s… violent with you, isn’t he?” he snarled, his anger obviously directed at Alfie, even though he, thankfully, wasn’t in. I looked away again, unable to stop the tears streaming down my cheeks. “Isn’t he?!” he shouted, banging his hand down on the table when I didn’t respond. “You have to go!” I exclaimed shrilly, jumping up too and putting my hands on his chest to push him. “No.” he said sternly, taking my hands, so small compared to his, and placing them by my side. “I won’t let you live like this. I can’t stand by while he- he hurts you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, as if he couldn’t bear to speak the truth.

* * *

The way Callum looked at me was agony. I could see the longing in his eyes that had been there ever since I’d known him. I loved him, I’d always loved him, and I’d just thought I was more in love with someone else. With Alfie… it turned out I was incredibly wrong. When I was seventeen I was naïve and fickle, and I’d picked the wrong guy in the mess of a love triangle I’d had at the time. Leaving Callum two years ago had been the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, harder than leaving anyone else, and that was why I hadn’t told anyone I was leaving. Of course, it had all been Alfie’s idea, acting on impulse.. But I couldn’t lay all of the blame on him, even if he did deserve it, I’d been stupid enough to go along with his ‘impulsive’ plan.

I wanted to shout at him, to scream that I loved him, but I couldn’t. I had to get him as far away from Alfie as possible, and quickly; that was the only option I could think of. When Alfie had found out I’d been on the phone to Callum, he’d been wild with rage. If he found out that Callum was here, alone with me… I couldn’t even think of what he would do. But just looking at Callum made saying goodbye again unreasonably hard. For so long I’d been picturing that perfect face, that chestnut hair, those deep blue eyes…

“I’m leaving.” he said quietly, drawing my out of my stupor. I hoped the disappointment wasn’t too obvious in my face. Even though I wanted Callum to leave, it was for his own sake, and it would kill me all over again when he did. He walked forwards and wrapped his warm arms around me, nuzzling his face into my hair. His arms tightened around me suddenly and he spoke, his voice full of a certainty that made the butterflies in my stomach jump with joy. “You’re coming with me.”