Sonya’S Hide and Seek

Sonya hid behind the door of her room squeezing herself hard against the wall. Her ears tried to pick through the sounds from the street below and separate them from sounds closer by. Her hands were flat up against the wall, the palms sensing the flatness and coldness of the plaster. 1

She closed her eyes; tried to see through the darkness behind the squeezed shut lids something different; something other, warmer, some island someplace; some childhood memory to hide away in, but none would come, only the cold room and maybe Erik pacing the house looking for her; drunk maybe, moody, violent, drink swilling through him like a vast dark sea. She heard sounds; heard something; something heavy and slow. Was it him? She opened her eyes; she sweated; she felt her stomach tighten. 2

Squashing her backside hard against the wall, she stiffened. The sounds became close; near at hand; near enough for her breathing to almost halt in fear; hold back like it did when she was a child, when her Uncle Josef would seek her out to beat her for some misdemeanour. Her knees knocked silently; her body stiffened painfully. 3

The doorknob turned; the door opened. Josef went to the window; stared out onto the street below. She stared at the dark brown door inches from her face, the bottom of the door touching her toes. She heard him mutter and curse; heard his laboured breath; his deep sighs. She held each part of her body in check until the pain bit hard through the muscles and bones. She heard him pace the floor in front of the window, his feet heavy and clumsy. He muttered her name; muttered it coldly; muttered it like it was poisonous and needed to be spat out. 4

Then it became silent. The silence was mixed with sounds from the street; unimportant sounds; sounds far away. She stared at the door and wondered if he was standing on the other side staring at the door, too. She wanted him to go away or pull the door away from her and reveal himself in all his anger and fury. The waiting was tormenting her; tormenting her as her Uncle had done years before when he beat her slowly and hardy not letting her know when it would end. She stared so hard that the door blurred; the wood became a mixture of browns, almost liquid. 5

The door moved away from her, Erik shut the door after him, his footsteps went away slowly and deliberately, like death stalking the world of the dark for the one promised. 6

Sonya stared at the room; at the sunlight playing childishly on the bed, which was unmade and soiled from the night before. He had gone. For now, she mused, for now, and sensed dampness leak down her legs as her muscles relaxed and her body sagged slowly down the wall like a puppet whose strings had been suddenly snipped.7