Charade

Vic

My feet pounded against the cold vinyl, faster and faster, as I ignored the usual pain in my knee. I still heard his panicked voice in my head, the static of the wind blowing into the phone, the cars racing by.

V-Vic! Please, I-I don't know what to do! She's not moving; she's bleeding all over the concrete!

The ambulance got there before I did and took her away, Benjamin at her side, while he refused their attempts to treat him. They told me Benji had abused them and demanded they tend to Lily, that selfless and noble nature of his working in overdrive.

I looked around frantically, but all I saw were closed hospital room doors and blinding white florescent lights, until I spotted Benji sitting on a grey waiting chair outside a room, head hung low, feet slightly pigeon-toed. I ran to him.

"Benjamin," I said, stopping.

He looked up at me and I was taken aback. His right eye, once clear and blue, was bloodshot and swollen, the colour of a plum. His lip was split open, twice its healthy size, and his right eyebrow and left side of his jaw was the same. I leaned down and held his chin up.

"Oh god," I said, "what happened?"

"I-I was at work and I saw Lily walking home from school. Some guys were making fun of her. Pushing her around, yelling at her. So I stopped them."

"Where is she? Where's Lily?"

"She's in there. She's fine, she's awake, but they won't let me in because I'm not family."

I looked at the door, window covered, and back at Benji. I grabbed him and pulled his head into my chest, holding him tightly, and said:

"Thank you. Really. For everything."

And, without looking at him, I barged into the room.

Lily was sitting on the bed, a small weak smile on her face, while a nurse fiddled with her IV bags. Her big blue eyes met mine and her smile grew.

"Hey, Dad." She said croakily.

"Lily?" I said, voice cracking. "Are you okay?"

I went to her automatically, standing by the bed beside her, with her face in my hands. I examined her for injuries and found a small cut on the back of her head surrounded by heavy bruising. Lily winced when I touched the outer ring.

"What happened?" I asked again.

"It's alright, Mr Langley," the nurse said. "The injury looks far worse than it really is. Lily's sickness makes her skin and blood vessels more fragile, which means she bruises more than usual and bleed a lot heavier as well, but it's okay, we've got the bleeding under control and everything should hopefully be getting back to normal soon."

I didn't know what to say to her, so I just nodded, and she left. I sat in the seat beside her, holding her little hand.

"Sweetie, what happened? Benjamin told me you were being picked on."

"Benji?" She asked. "He's here? Can I see him?"

"Hold on," I said, squeezing her hand. "You can see him in a moment but first I need you to tell me the truth – what's going on? Has this got to do with what you've been keeping from me?"

Lily gulped, her eyes falling short of mine.

"We agreed," I told her, "that if it became too much, you'd tell me, remember? Well, I'm telling you right now, it's become too much. You need to tell me what's going on. And you're not seeing Benjamin until you do."

Lily stayed quiet for several minutes, weeping, trying to find the words. When she did speak, she never lifted her eyes.

"It started this year. Around February, when I first started high school. There were these girls who didn't like me. They... they made fun of me. They said... terrible things. Everybody loved it, everybody joined in, even my friends did," she wept, tears falling down her cheeks. "Soon everyone was against me. Boy, girl, it didn't matter. I was the outcast of the outcasts."

Lily sobbed into her hands.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier, sweetie? I could've done something about it."

"Because they said if I told anyone they'd make my life a living hell – worse than it already was. They said they'd find me, beat me up, do all sorts of horrible things and I believed them because I knew they were capable of it. I knew they wouldn't hesitate." Her voice faltered, swept away by hysterical sobbing, and I got up and sat beside her on the bed, pulling her in so her head was buried in my chest. Her hot tears seeped into my shirt and I looked down at her bruised head, the deep patches of blue and purple, and swore I would hunt down those kids, string them up, and make them pay. The anger inside me was uncontrollable, like wildfire, spreading to my limbs and to my tense muscles. But under that was the part of me that was burdened with heavy guilt. I was Lily's father. I was supposed to protect her. I was supposed to...

I clutched Lily to my chest, feeling tears come pouring down my cheeks, and hated myself.

© A.G. Travers 2015