Behind That Locked Door (A Beatles/George Harrison Fanfiction)

Tuesday

Over the next few days I go to Frank's quite frequently. Each time Moonbeam and I eat a bite and I discuss a bit about the ukulele and chords and things with her. I give her the book that helped me learn many years ago. It's small and raggedy but it's the best I've ever seen to teach. That and it's a bit special to me, so I want her to have it. We exchange phone numbers and addresses and she asks if it's alright for me to pick her up on Tuesdays, which is no problem.

Pattie announces she's going on a trip with a couple other of her model friends. They planned it for 2 months to the Bahamas. I suppose I'm sad about that, but all I ever do is go to Frank's, buy guitars, and drop by Ringo's, and all she does is complain that I'm not home enough.

The Monday just before Moonbeam's official lesson, Pattie leaves. She's beyond excited about it as she rushes out the door with barely a kiss on my cheek.

.....................................................

I reach Moonbeam's house late that Tuesday night. I wonder if I should have come earlier or if I should have turned around, but nonetheless I pull in and turn the engine off, stepping out. Her house is small and a bit dark, the curtains slightly open and a faint porch light on. I peek inside the large window with the slightly open curtains and see a man I recognize from Franks. Last time I saw him he was giving Moonbeams orders.

Just then, Moonbeam steps out of a room from the back in a long, flowy white dress that starts at her knees and gets longer in the back, going to her ankles. She holds the small book I gave her close to her chest. She must've heard the car pull up.

The man looks at Moonbeam funny before propping her against the wall, his arms forcefully around her waist. She winces and drops the book on the ground accidentally.

"Please, don't Daniel," I faintly hear Moonbeam beg as she begins to cry, "Please."

"C'mon, babycakes, it won't hurt." He says, sliding his hand up her shirt. Moonbeam screams and lets out a hopeless cry.

I pound on the door with my fists.

"Open this door!" I yell. I pound again until I hear a rustling inside. Moonbeam steps out, tears streaming down her face, her dress ripped and the book still in her crossed arms. She looks at me hopelessly, her face red even in the faint light.

I stretch my arms out and she accepts them, crying into my chest. I kiss her head and run my fingers through her hair. Because all I know to do is hold her.