Out of the dark

Anonymous

It was my fault. People tell me I was just a wee girl and I am not to blame. I drew lots of pictures about it that year. Looking at them is like ripping off a sticking plaster. Even in the bath it will still hurt.

What I remember most is the silence. Things grow and take on terrible shapes in the dark. I had just turned ten.

My diary always calmed me. But it didn't work on this day. It was the darkest day in December. I knew I needed to try and be braver, smarter, work out a way to fix it. Mum always told me I was her clever little angel. She was so proud of me for all my school work. I was sailing through. I loved school. This was the day that I knew for the first time that being clever in that way wasn't all it was cracked up to be. It couldn't help me stop it from happening.

Nobody knew I was alone. My thoughts kept turning to mum. She might have fallen over or, worse. My imagination was running away with me and I couldn't take it. I had checked at the usual haunts on the way home from school.

Mum was lonely after her and dad split up. Sometimes I sat with her after school for a while before we went home. I didn't understand why she wanted company with the characters. There was something dreadful about their faces, the reek of the smoke and the desperate air about the place at shutting time.

They were all broken. Like the worn bar stools. The one saving grace was the regular tournaments. I got better at playing pool. Whenever I beat the regulars they liked to tease me about being a wee hustler. I only did it to keep mum company and somehow thought I could protect her. I didn't know what from.

On this day nobody had seen her. I exhausted all the familiar spots. But it was getting dark and I had to go home. After throwing away the sandwich I couldn't eat, I read a few pages from the Brothers Grimm book and played with Barbie. When I woke up I was digging my nails into my fingers. Two forty three. She wasn't home. I could see my breath in the cold, and hear it. It made me afraid. There was no other sound. I took a knife from the kitchen drawer and kept it by the bed. I didn't want to touch it and in the dark, the sharp blade glinted with an eerie light.

I kept waking up on the edge of a bad dream. It was just me and Barbie. I willed myself to shrink to fit into her world for at least half an hour before I got up. The morning was cold and the wooden floorboards in the room almost stuck to my feet. I felt like I was frozen to the bone but the bed sheets were soaked with sweat.

The clock glowered at me. Half past seven. I put on my uniform for school and thought there was only one option. I had to phone my gran. Gran always knew the right thing to do. No ring tone. The phone bill must have not been paid. I was already late for school and she still wasn't home yet so how could I even think about going? I had to get to a phone.

When I knocked on the neighbour's door of Mrs Reid across the landing I wondered if this was a betrayal. I would have to tell a white lie. The tone of my voice was too high. "Um, my mum is in the bath and I just want to borrow your phone for a minute. Is that OK?"

Mrs Reid scowled and marched over to our front door. No answer. When she came out onto the landing her face was like a funeral. She rubbed my arm. I had tears dripping down my blazer. They came out of nowhere. We had tea and biscuits while Mrs Reid talked on the phone in hushed tones. "all night.." and "not right for a young girl.." was all I could make out. I dipped the biscuit until it was soggy. Mum did care about me. Why do people stick their nose in and think they know best?

The social worker sat in our living room and quizzed me. Marian was plump and smartly dressed. Her smile beamed. I tried not to say too much. I feared the gravity of it. And somehow I knew that what would happen next was going to break my mum in two. Marian asked about all the certificates Mum gave pride of place on the wall. Way down inside my belly I felt like I was going to burst. And it came out. "She has never been out all night like this before. Sometimes I go and get her from her favourite places."

That was the day it happened. I was not a clever angel. That Christmas I stayed with a foster family. Just like that I was moved to a whole new world. It was one memory that Mum and me never talk about. We will forever remember it, alone.