The summer sun is starting to pink my skin as I sit out on the balcony of the apartment Will and I bought weeks ago. I can't decide what I love most about being here, the sounds I can hear of the river at night, or the sight of the green blanket of tree tops we can see from our balcony.
I sip away at the cappuccino that I made from one of those fancy coffee machines Will insisted on buying when we moved in. I tell him often it was over the top but it doesn't stop me frothing milk and making sure we never run out of those little capsules for it.
"Hey you, how'd you sleep?"
Will pops his head outside, coffee in hand, wearing some old shorts that he works out in. I'd tell him to cover up only I think all the neighbours deserve to see it. I want them to know what Im lucky enough to lay beside every night.
"Like a log. I didn't even wake up when my alarm went off! Hey, come get a look at this view. Can you believe it's really ours?"
He steps up behind me, rubbing his hands over my shoulders and planting a kiss on my head.
"I can. We waited long enough for it."
I rest my head onto his hand, staring out at the trees ahead.
There's a weird ringing sound that seems to become louder the longer we stay out here. I wonder if somebody's alarm is going off.
"Do you hear that?"
"What?"
"That noise!" I shake my head, trying to rid it from my ears.
"What is it?"
"You fought back."
I look up at Will, confused and rubbing the side of my head.
"What do you mean?"
"Be smarter. You have to keep going Isobel, don't let him take you from me"
—————
The ringing continues, but there's no trees when my eyes open, only the blurry sight of the vanity infront of me.
It comes into focus at the same time that I realise I can't separate my hands. The rope is tied around them tighter than it was yesterday, pressing into the burns already underneath.
I feel that disgusting gag in my mouth again. I'm careful, trying to acknowledge it without panicking. Taking deep breaths and telling myself to accept it.
I did fight.
I fought with everything I had when he tried to put that cloth back in my mouth. I fought so hard that i think it may have even surprised Jamie. I fought so hard that it forced him to push me to the floor and hit my head off the tile so roughly that it knocked me out. He still managed to get what he wanted, but at least I fought.
In the minutes before Jamie came in here to tie me back up, I was losing hope fast. I felt like pinning my hopes on someone noticing I was gone was becoming juvenile.
The fact Jamie wanted to continue on his life as normal by going out to work not only scared me, but managed to make me feel worthless. How was this situation not more pressing to him?
I genuinely considered asking him to just end it. Surely that was where this was all going anyway. But then that little voice came into my head. An eleven year old child that just wanted to be something to somebody. She wanted out. She wanted things to go her way for once.
So when he walked in here, duct tape in hand, I did my best for her.
I have to do that. I have to keep fighting. But after this morning, I know that i will never physically match Jamie. He'll always have the upper hand with strength. However, I also know that the fight back isn't always about the physical.
I've been looking at it the wrong way all of this time. No wonder it all seemed so impossible.
I don't need to fight him, I just need to figure out how to outsmart him.
I know that won't be easy either. He's not stupid, not by any feat, in a lot of ways he's always one step ahead of me. But this situation wasn't really something he could plan for, that's where I can take advantage.
So, knowing that he has the physical advantage,
I have to accept that I can't try to somehow get by him, he's always going to succeed there.
I debate the idea that I could try to convince him that it's him that I want. Lull him into a false sense of security, but somehow I think that ship has sailed and I'm just not that god of a liar either.
I need to find his weak link. I need to find where he may have messed up or something he hasn't thought about. I need to find whatever base he didn't cover.
Retrace his steps Izzy.
Okay, I know that Jamie left nothing behind when he cleaned this place out. Nothing sharp and nothing useful, but that doesn't mean that there's nothing in here that can't help.
Again, the tape is wrapped in circles around my head, so I can't push it off. But what if I can cut it somehow? He's not here, I could scream for help all day if I managed that.
I move towards the vanity, rubbing my face on the side of it in the hope the tape tears, but there's no luck there, the edges of the marble are rounded. Useless. It was too easy.
The cabinet. The doors have sharper corners on it, that could work. I scoot my way toward it, only to find that I'm just a little too short on slack. Inches too short. I try to stretch and pull my way to it getting more and more desperate as the rope tightens.
Nothing, I couldn't even bring it to me if I could get my feet at it, it's too heavy. Looks like he thought about this.
I circle back, changing my focus. There has to be something else. Scouting every inch of the rope I look for any kind of fray or loose knot, anything at all, but there's nothing.
He made no errors in the way he tied this rope either, in fact I'd go as far as to say all his sailing with his father as a kid came in useful, despite the fact his father thought it had all been a waste of time. I slam my hands on the toilet seat in frustration, the sound of the lid on top of the cistern rattles, drawing my attention to it like I've just seen god himself.
Now that I can use.
Jamie gave me enough slack to use the toilet, meaning I can easily get at that lid. I knew he had to have missed something. I'd call him an imbecile but I'm the one that's been in here for two days and didn't see it either, so I won't get too smart about it just yet.
Although my hands are bound together and I can just about stand up fully, I can still get a grasp on the edge of the lid, sliding it toward me. It's porcelain, so i don't need to add much force other than dropping it to the floor for it to smash into pieces! Looking at the shards, I spot one thats both big and sharp enough to cut the rope.
I don't know how long I have so that means I've no time to waste. I move away from the toilet, pulling the rope taut and cutting into the length that extends away from me and wraps around the toilet.
It's hard to do with my hands tied like this but I won't be stopping, I know this is my way out, I know this is my way back to Will.
The first few strands begin to come apart, I could cry when I see it begin to happen. I cut and cut, letting pieces of rope come away each time.
I pause to take a quick breath, but it's the front door that grabs my attention. I'm sure I just heard someone knock. I scooch closer to the bathroom door to try and listen.
There it is again! Somebody knocked for sure.
Surely it's not Jamie, why would he knock?
I hear my name from out front. It's a voice that a few days ago, I thought I was never going to hear again.
"Isobel? It's me...it's Dad. Are you home?"
What the...?
My heatbeat quickens, I don't even care what his reason for being here is, this is my chance.
I try to call out through the gag, I know it's far too quiet, and I still can't reach the door.
It's now or never, I push as viciously as I can through the ropes, slicing through the remaining strands, the feeling as it breaks and pulls apart is better than anything I've ever felt.
The rope goes slack, I'm able to wiggle my hands a little bit, and pull one out, unwinding the rest of it away from me. More rope burns and cuts decorate my wrists but I don't take a moment to feel it. I know I need to move.
I pound as hard as I possibly can on the bathroom door. If my Dad is still out there he's going to hear me.
When I don't hear him say anything, I pull at this torture contraption Jamie has strapped to my face, taking away patches of hair like I never needed it in the first place. I peel the last bits from me, spitting out the gag and using my voice like never before.
"DAD! I'm here! I'm in here, help!"
Nothing.
I pound that door even harder, my throat stinging from the screaming.
I stop again, straining to hear.
Come on Charlie! Hear me!
There's a splintering sound and then one big bang, I hear the front door swing and hit off something in the hall way as the house alarm begins to shriek. Whatever he had to do to get in here, he made it seem easy.
"Isobel? Where are you?"
"I'm in here! Daddy I'm back here! Please, help me!"
He follows the sound of my voice, bursting through the bedroom door.
I continue to pound, bringing him to me.
"Isobel what's in gods name is going on?"
"You have to be quick, we don't have time! Jamie locked me in here. I don't know where he is, you have to let me out before he comes back!"
"Stand back."
I move across the floor for what I hope is the last time in my life in this bathroom.
He kicks the door once, twice and on the third try he uses all of his force to kick it wide open before casting he's eyes on me.
"What in the hell?"
I know what I look like right now but I can't stop myself as I barrel towards him, grabbing him and holding on for dear life.
"What the...what happened here Isobel?"
I can't answer him, I choke on tears, begging him to get me out of here. I can feel his confusion, his whole body is stiff, but after looking around he softens, wrapping his arms around me, promising to take me with him.
"We need to go now! Please, let's just go."
"I think we're going to need to call the police or something here Isobel..."
He can see my sheer horror at his suggestion as I pull back away from him.
"Okay, alright, don't worry!", he wraps his arms back around me
"We can figure that out, but you'll need to go to the hospital, look at the state you're in...was this Jamie?"
"Dad please, please just come with me and we can figure everything else out later, I can't stay here, if he comes back, if he finds you here..."
I break into this hysterical cry that I don't even recognise as my own. I'm completely inconsolable, I just want to leave. So that's what he agrees to do.
He gently guides me out of the bedroom, the place is a mess, Jamie didn't even change the sheets before sleeping last night. My Dad notices the bloodstains in the middle of the bed and turns me away from it.
He takes gentle steps with me, I put my code into the alarm panel as we move out of the apartment to silence it. It's pointless, I'm sure Jamie got the notification that it went off right away.
My dad hits the button for the lift. I'd love to insist that we don't take it, my arm twinges at the mere thought of what happened in there, but I don't have the energy for the stairs.
When the lift gets to our floor, I can hear someone taking inside. I want to hide, but my Dad refuses, he doesn't care who it is. I hold my breath as it opens.
The couple from the apartment next-door step out, their mouths dropping open when they see me. I don't even know their names.
They slowly move out, allowing my dad and I into the lift, he wraps his arm around me tighter as they look on, explaining nothing to them.
They both have a suitcase in hand and fresh suntans on their skin. Go figure.
———————
I didn't speak at all for the first few minutes in my dad's car. I dont know if I can really believe I'm out of there.
On the other hand, he hasn't shut up. For a man with so few words any other time I've been with him, it was strange.
Apparently Donna had been fretting about me ever since the playground that day. She finally broke last night and told my dad she was worried about what she saw. He figured she was needlessly worrying, so he waited until this morning and called Sarah to ask about it.
Sarah couldn't hold in a thing, no big surprise there. She spilled every detail she knew.
He wanted to know what was happening so the second he hung up the phone he came straight to my apartment.
He hung around outside until someone was coming out because he was afraid I wouldn't let him in after what happened between us.
He starts to list off the reasons he was never sure if Jamie was right for me and how he didn't trust him. It makes me wonder what things would have been like if he'd shown that concern sooner, but there's no point dwelling on that I guess, it will only serve to drive me crazy.
He keeps taking side glances over at me, telling me I need to go to the hospital, asking if I think anything is broken, where I got the paper stitches from. All things I can't even think about.
Not when I don't know where Jamie is. It's not a good thing, he could have went to work like he made me believe, but the more I think about it, the more I find that hard to believe.
I worry that he could really be going after Will, and I find myself completely fixated on it.
Dad calls Sarah as he's driving, asking her to meet us at the hospital. I take the phone from his hand, not worrying about seeming rude, I need her to call Will and make sure that he's alright. I can't stand the idea that something is happening to him and I can't reach him. I should have memorised his number.
My Dad doesn't ask me who Will is or why I asked Sarah to call him. I think it's more out of awkwardness than not being curious.
He also takes no heed when I make my protests about the hospital, he insists on bringing me there anyway.
I honestly think he'd have carried me in to the building if I had attempted to say no.
The receptionist looks like she's seen this a million times. She doesn't bat an eye when she sees me come in. Dad expects me to be carted off to a bed right away. He's not impressed by the lack of urgency there seems to be, but there's people here a lot sicker than me.
We sit in the waiting room together, he fills out forms, asking me to confirm things every now and again. When it comes to the reason for my visit, I tell him under no circumstances is he to say this is anything other than a mugging, exactly what I promised Jamie. But it's not for his benefit, it's for my own. I want to get out of here without any extra attention.
When he's finished, he hands the clipboard and paper back to the receptionist, then takes a seat beside me, taking my hand.
It's the tiniest thing really, it shouldn't make me well up the way it does, maybe it's the exhaustion or something.
"I'm so sorry Isobel."
I can hear the catch in his throat as he whispers it. He stares out in front of him, his eyes glued to the triage doors waiting for someone to come and see me.
He looks old. I've never thought of him like that before. He's always been so stoic to me. Broad shouldered and tough, good at working with his hands. I'm sure he still is all of those things, just older, and a bit more worn out.
"It's alright Dad."
I'll probably kick myself for rolling over so easy later on, but for now I think he needs it.
"No, it's not. Things with you and I...look I know it was my fault. Our relationship was never easy and I blamed you for things that had nothing to do with you, for things I had no right blaming you for...and then the longer it went on..."
"The harder it was to repair. I know."
He pivots in his chair, facing me.
"I've always loved you, regardless of everything else Isobel. You need to know that. I thought you were okay, I thought you were happy. If I'd of known what was going on... that day with the lunch, I was so afraid of how I was going to try fix all of this that I just couldn't do it. I failed you, I know that. Maybe if I'd sucked it up, I'd have realised sooner what was going on with you."
A nurse steps into the waiting room, calling my name and ending the conversation we so badly needed. But I guess we can pick it up later.
Dad wants to stay with me the while I'm checked over but I don't want him to have to see anything, so I insist he waits outside.
The doctor brings me to a room and checks me out, she wants to do an X-ray on my chest, an MRI on my shoulder to check for muscle damage and some stitches on the cut above my eye. There's no signs of any internal bleeding, but they're worried about a concussion when they examine the bruising on my head, but I feel alright.
At one point, she tries to probe me about the bruising that doesn't quite coincide with the story I gave. She's as nice as she can be about it, but obviously suspicious. She offers me the opportunity to talk to a councillor they have, or to the police, but I continue to tell her that it was a random attack and dont deviate for a second. I know that if I say anything about it being domestic, that she's mandated to report it.
This isn't her first time with a domestic violence victim and it won't be her last, so she doesn't even flinch when I refuse to give any more information, she just signs the paperwork to admit me and says that she'll let my dad in to see me.
I can't face reporting any of this. The interviews, the examinations, the poking and prodding into my life. I just want to get as far away from it as I can.
I want to find Will, and leave this place and I don't even care if we never come back.
"Looks like they'll take you down for an X-ray soon Isobel."
My dad comes in carrying two coffees, I've never been so glad to see shitty hospital caffeine in all of my life.
"Have you heard from Sarah yet?"
I'm conscious that it's been awhile and I'm afraid they're keeping something about Will from me.
"I just spoke to her, shes on her way. Mark and Donna too."
"What about Will?"
The look of disappointment on his face is so condescending that it makes me think that I imagined that apology out in the waiting room.
"She said to tell you he's fine, he's on the way too. I told her to tell him to hold off but she said you'd want him here..."
"I do."
Dad doesn't say much else about it but his scowl certainly does.
I check the clock above the door, it's only one thirty. I wonder to myself what Jamie's doing. If he went straight home, if he saw I was gone, if he's trying to find out where I am right now?
Maybe somebody from the building has called the police considering the front door was burst open, I'd like to see Jamie explain that.
Dad sits with me in silence as I watch the clock, continuously tapping my foot on the leg of the bed. He must know exactly what I'm thinking about because he places his hand on my leg, stopping my tapping.
"He won't come here Isobel, not if he values his life."
His words bring little relief. I know Jamie, he loves revenge as much as he loves handing out punishments.
And this escape will warrant both from him.
Dad takes my hand again, looking me right in the eye.
"You're out of there, and you're never going back Isobel. Whatever help you need to be able to do that, we can manage it, you can stay with me and Donna for as long as you need, or"-
"Or, we can still get out of here, just like we planned."
Both my Dad's gaze and my own shoot to the door to find out who's interrupting us, only to discover Will standing there, sweating like he just ran the whole way here.
My Dads confusion is evident. He's wondering who this could be, but that only lasts a second before I'm up and across the room, straight into Wills arms.