Work Text:
Please, Save Me
The sound of a door opening and crashing into the wall, followed by loud voices trailing into the building below, shatters the momentary sleep Carla finds herself in.
Her heart begins to pound and blood begins to rush in her ears. She squeezes her eyes tighter, trying to focus on any additional sounds.
The voices get softer and the rhythmic sounds of footsteps slowly fade away.
All Carla's left with are the noises from the flat. From the airing cupboard she's in.
The soft ticking and clinking of the old pipes. The creaking of wood expanding and shrinking.
An occasional banging sound. The occasional traffic noise in the near distance.
If she focuses hard enough, she can even hear the wind howl softly outside.
The fear and anxiety from being startled awake still claws at her throat, causing her difficulty to swallow.
She needs water. She knows there's a bottle somewhere that Becky hadn't realised she'd left.
Carla doesn't know how she'd even manage to get it open and to drink it once she locates it, but it's a thought to focus on instead of spiraling even more.
However, she doesn't go searching for the bottle just yet and keeps her eyes shut instead.
Afraid to find the same three walls staring back at her. To find the two cupboard doors closed and locked in multiple ways in front of her.
She lets her head softly hit the wall next to her. A shaky, broken, muffled sound leaves her mouth.
Why?
Can someone please find her?
XOX
Carla groans and wiggles in place. Her back hurts and her legs are starting to cramp up.
She's not sure if it's the lack of movement, having been stuck in the same tied-up position for hours. Days.
A week?
Maybe.
She doesn't really know how long she's been here.
Or maybe it's the lack of hydration, or any nutrition. Or the sparse intervals of her anti-rejection meds, which would mean it's her kidney playing up.
Maybe it's all of it.
Help me, please
XOX
A bang, a loud shout.
Carla startles awake. Her muscles tighten and scream in pain back at her.
Her heart starts pounding in her chest. It's beating so fast she can even feel the pulsing rhythm in her throat.
Voices. Angry. Screaming at one another.
Growing even louder, before turning into hissed whispers.
An argument of sorts.
A man and a woman.
Carla opens her eyes, waiting for a moment as they adjust to the darkness.
Must be night.
Because in the few hours of daylight there are, there'd be at least some light poking through the tiny gaps of the doors.
She can't see any of that now.
Her heart slowly starts to settle itself again. Her breathing becomes slightly calmer.
Her head is pounding. A headache built on lack of water. Of food. Of any natural sunlight…
A lack of… everything.
Please…
XOX
That face. Smug. Infuriating.
Taunting.
Haunting.
Being threatened with a knife. Being screamed at.
Getting a porcelain plate thrown at her.
Momentary relief, momentary hope.
An escape when she finds one of the broken pieces.
Cutting through the absurdly tight pieces of cotton restraints her ankles and hands are tied up with.
Shakingly standing up. Pins and needles up and down her tired, cramped-up leg muscles.
Pushing, pounding and rattling the locked doors.
A plan forming.
Waiting.
For her to come back.
For the moment she's been waiting for.
The moment she's been silently praying for.
I'm close
XOX
It fails. Partly.
The moment she hears the rattling sounds of the chains being removed, she zones in.
There's only one word on her mind.
Escape.
Becky's blabbering about something. Blaming her for something. Everything.
The doors open.
This is it.
Carla rushes forward, pushing Becky backward. Watches as she falls, hitting the back of her head on the coffee table.
Out cold.
She says something. She's not even sure what before rushing around, trying to locate the keys to get out.
Her muscles scream at her. Her body shakes.
Her heart pounds and her lungs work overtime with the gasps of air they're trying to get in.
Anxiety, nerves, hope. It all rushes through her.
Adrenaline and the hint of freedom at the tip of her fingers keep her upright.
Keys.
Moving to the door. Uncooperative fingers make it hard to push the key into the lock.
A rush of cold air.
A hand on her arm, yanking her backwards. The other on the back of her head, harshly pushing her forward.
Her forehead hits the door. It knocks the air out of her.
Before she can get her footing, her body is pulled backwards again and the side of her head hits the corner of the wall.
Pain.
Loss of balance.
Dark spots.
A tumble. Half over the couch.
A thump of hitting the floor.
Complete darkness.
Lost. Again.
XOX
She's shaking.
Her little legs are pulled up in front of her, her little arms tightly wrapped around them.
Her back pressed closely against the wall.
Tears roll down her face, her body hitches with the sobs she's trying hard not to let out.
Trying her best to stay invisible. To not be heard and discovered.
Loud screaming. Angry voices.
The sounds of slamming cupboards and doors. Of plates and other things being thrown around and smashing into smithereens.
It suddenly goes quiet for a moment.
She lifts her head just slightly. Stares forward, vision glimmering from her tears.
Footsteps.
Getting closer.
Her heart starts to pound.
She bites her cheek to try and stay quiet.
She stares intently at the floor. At the thin stripe of light peeking through at the bottom.
Watching for shadows to appear, telling her if someone's getting closer.
The footsteps come to a halt. Outside her bedroom door.
She holds her breath. Sinks her nails into her legs.
They walk away.
It's not until the flat door closes that she dares to breathe again.
Her lips tremble. Her body still shakes.
Tears still roll softly down her cheeks.
She doesn't leave her bedroom closet until she knows it's absolutely safe to do so.
It takes her hours.
When she finally stands up, she finds her pyjama pants sticky and damp.
She’d weed herself from fear.
Again.
The first time she’d hid in her closet, she was four.
Her mam and whoever the man was at that time were arguing and she got scared.
She’d silently cried as she listened to them scream at one another.
Took refuge in her closet. Closed both doors, and curled up into a tight ball.
Weed herself from fear.
Now at nine-years-old, the hiding, crying and apparently wetting herself had not changed.
XOX
Carla twitches and groans.
Her head is hurting. Pounding.
But it's a different pain than the one she's been having for days. Weeks.
Who even knows at this point?
She tries to blink herself awake.
It's hazy. It's dark.
She's tired.
So, so tired.
She stares at the familiar doors in front of her. Unfocused and fuzzy.
A tear rolls down her cheek, gathers on her jaw for a moment before dripping onto her grey jumper.
Everything hurts.
She's fading.
She doesn't know how long she'll last.
Please…
Someone…
Anyone…
Help me…
Save me…
XOX
Rattling noises in the distance. Hurried and panicked voices.
It comes to her in muffled soundwaves.
Fading in and out.
A word here and there.
But it's not clear.
Her mind is too exhausted to focus on what's going on.
The door opens, and even though her eyes are closed, she winces at the light suddenly coming through.
Oh, Carla…
She thinks she hears her name being called.
But she has heard that before.
Her mind has been playing tricks on her and this must be another one.
Carla
It's firmer this time.
She lets out a soft groan. Her head tilts sideways.
Fingers, warm fingers, tug at the robe tie that is tied around her head, keeping her lips apart, to stop her from talking or screaming out for help.
Get a medic in here now!
A warm hand cups her cheek.
She leans into it.
Carla… Darling, please open your eyes…
That voice.
She knows it.
Missed it.
But…
That can't be.
A thumb strokes below her eye.
Her eyes flutter open.
Fuzzy.
Unfocused.
But that face.
That blonde hair.
Those blue-green eyes.
She knows those.
A groan leaves her again. Not really what she was going for.
She tries again.
“Dr-dream…”
The warmth on her cheek feels real. Those eyes gazing back at her, teary and concerned, seem real.
But her mind’s played tricks on her before.
Multiple times.
“J-just a… d-dream,” she croaks out.
Her eyes flutter shut.
The hand on her cheek softly shakes her head, as if to keep her awake.
Her eyes open slowly. Confusion edged on her face.
“I'm real, Carla.” Lisa moves closer, a kiss is pressed against her forehead. “I promise, I'm real.”
The lips on her forehead feel warm. Feel real. Feel familiar.
Feel like home.
Like safety.
“Lisa…”
A forehead is pressed against hers now, eyes gazing deeply into hers.
“Shh, I got you, love. I'm so sorry it took me so long,” Lisa whispers, guilt in her eyes. “But you're safe now.”
Carla hums softly.
Her body slowly relaxes as her mind and body play catch-up with the woman holding her.
“S-safe…”
“Yes, my love. Safe.”