CASTAWAY ⚓ R.C, J.M

E L E V E N🩸

"Please, I just want to go home," Harley whimpered. She shivered when her brain showed her a warped image of her being held up in a similar position, a time before she ended up in the Outer Banks. She felt sick, so she lied. "I'll... I'll speak to Barry."

That caught Mr Maybank's attention. His eyes lightened. "When?"

"Tomorrow."

"How?"

Harley hesitated. "I..." why was he asking so many questions when her mind felt like it was falling into a bucket of paint. "I... what?"

Mr Maybank's ounce of patience had worn too thin. His hand shifted and latched onto Harley's dark strands of hair. She yelped as her neck was pulled uncomfortably.

"I said how? Do you need his nu..."

Harley stopped listening. The familiarity in her feelings petrified her and the way her vision kept streaking amplified her panic. She wanted, no needed, Mr Maybank to leave her alone. She needed him to stop shouting. He smelt like beer and whiskey; his hands felt too rough. It was like sensory overload.

Harley retaliated by lifting her foot and slamming the heel of her Converse into the centre of Mr Maybank's foot. He howled out in pain almost immediately. His grip fell from her hair as he hunched to reach for his foot. Harley tried to run for the door, but his other hand coiled around her waist and drew her in before swinging her back into the wall. He was quick to smack her across the face.

Harley swayed and fell over. She groaned, her body not liking the flurry of torment. She bucked her leg back and kicked Mr Maybank in the shin, not taking a second to be proud of the yell of pain she caused him. She scrambled to her feet and rushed in the opposite direction. She slipped into the closest room and locked the door.

At first, she didn't care that she had trapped herself in the small room. She fell on her bum as she backed away from the door, tears dancing in her eyes. Mr Maybank banged his fists against the wood yelling profanities and horrible words at her. She pushed herself back into a small cabinet, though that didn't seem to be enough. She felt too vulnerable out in the open in her state of panic.

Somehow, she had gotten in the bathtub and drawn the blue seashell curtain. That's when things got worse. The twisted images in her head reminded her of the time she'd been held under the water in a bathtub. The yelling. The silence and then sensory overload over and over. She could see the hatred roaring in someone's eyes directed at her. She felt so small.

Her hands flew to her ears as she tried to block out reality, but she couldn't block out her mind. Her chest felt like a hundred cinder blocks laid upon it, her heart trying to run its sprint in the shrinking space.

⚓️

Harley had been so consumed by trepidation that she hadn't heard the scuffle outside of the bathroom.

Harley had been gripped by the tough hands of fear, so much so that she hadn't heard the banging against the bathroom door stop. The ruckus had turned to a scuffle in the hallway between JJ and his father. The young blonde had been baffled by his dad's shouts and the animosity in the way his fists and body hurled at their bathroom door. As soon as JJ made his presence known to his dad and he questioned his actions, Luke set his sights on his son.

At first Mr Maybank had began yelling about some useless girl in their bathroom leaving JJ dumbfounded. Somewhere between Mr Maybank throwing missed hits at JJ and his shouting, he dropped Harley's name. That's when he fully registered that he had passed Harley's car outside and she hadn't been in it. 

Worry set in. JJ had thought he heard wrong until his dad said it again, that was when JJ really tried to fight back. He wanted to get to Harley and make sure she was okay. He hadn't heard a peep from the bathroom, and he hoped that was because of the loudness of his dad.