This may be triggering for sexual abuse. But you probably got that by now.
Archie left just before Jack returned, and Ronnie didn't mention his visit. If she did, Jack would only get angry and want to warn him away, and that could only make things worse. Ronnie didn't want any more dramas, she just wanted her Dad out of her life for good. Ronnie wondered why he hated her so much. All she had done was lead her own life, be her own person. Roxy had always been the rebellious one, but Archie didn't hate her. It must be me, Ronnie thought, I must be wrong. Broken, bad, poison.
Ronnie felt something tugging gently at her hair. She shifted her eyes to see Jack fiddling with her hair, twirling it around his fingers. "Tell me what you're thinking," he said, softly, when he saw Ronnie was watching him. Ronnie blinked, lost for what to say. She didn't know what she was thinking, nothing made sense any more, nothing seemed to matter.
"Don't Jack," Ronnie whispered before turning away from him onto her side. Jack opened his mouth to respond, to make her talk to him, but he closed it again without making a sound. Ronnie was shattered and broken, it was going to take far more than a few words to heal her. Although Jack never allowed himself to think it, but it was always there in the back of his mind. Maybe some things are just too broken to ever be repaired.
A week passed, and nothing changed. Ronnie refused to open up to anyone about how she was feeling, despite Jack's attempts. She still refused to speak to Roxy, and only ever spoke in monosyllables or tonelessly to anyone who asked her a direct question. Luckily*, Archie didn't try to visit again. He kept his distance, but Ronnie wasn't calmed by this. If anything, it was even more unsettling, not knowing where he was or what he was doing. But then again, she reminded herself, it's not as if I have anything left for him to destroy.
Finally, Ronnie was allowed to go home. The next day she would be getting out. Ronnie didn't know how she felt about this. It would be nice to be away from Jack's watchful eye, he couldn't stay with her in her own home if she didn't want him to. A thought suddenly struck Ronnie. Where was home? The Vic had been burnt down, she didn't know where the rest of her family were, they were always careful to avoid the topic of the fire of Tony around her, and she'd never asked.
The night before she was due to leave the hospital, Ronnie's nightmares grew worse. She had been having them every night since the fire. They had started before that, before even Tony, but since that night in The Vic, they were worse. Much worse. This one was the worst of them all.
Ronnie was in a dimly lit room. At first, she had no idea where she was. She didn't recognise her surroundings. But slowly, as her eyes became accustomed to the darkness, Ronnie realised she was in the warehouse. The very same place that she had given birth to Danielle. Ronnie tried to push herself up, to run. To get out. She had to leave this place, the memories were to painful. However, she soon realised she couldn't move. Something tied her to the hard wooden floor, making it impossible for her to move more than a couple of centimetres.
Panicking, she looked hurriedly around the room, she could make out shadows and shapes, but there appeared to be no one else there. She was alone. Ronnie struggled to break free from whatever bound her to the ground, wondering how she got there. She had no memory of what she had been doing leading up to being here, and no memory of anyone taking her. Nothing seemed to make any sense. Her brain was fogged and misty, making it impossible to think.
After a while, Ronnie realised it was useless. The ropes were too tight, she would never be free. Someone must have brought her here, someone must be around somewhere. Ronnie didn't know whether to shout, to see if anyone heard, or to keep quiet it hope that no one would. Without knowing who had brought her here or what they wanted, it was impossible to judge how much danger she was in. Ronnie's thoughts flew to her unborn baby, and she moved her hand automatically to touch her stomach, forgetting that she was tied down. Ronnie preyed that her baby would be OK. There and then she vowed to get out of here alive, if just for the sake of her child.
Just then, Ronnie heard a sound from somewhere to her left. She turned her head, sharply to see who was there. At first, she could see no one, just the faint outline of a figure and a dark shadow that was cast across the room. Then the figure stepped forwards, and Ronnie's heart stopped when she saw who it was.
Her Dad.
"Hello Veronica," he leered, looking her up and down. Ronnie felt fear rising up inside her, blocking her throat and choking her, making it impossible to breathe.
"What do you want? Why am I here?" Ronnie demanded, her voice displaying more confidence than she felt. Archie smirked down at her, his eyes showing no warmth or love, only a cold, burning hatred.
"Surely you didn't think I was going to allow this did you? After all that happened with Danielle." His tone scared Ronnie, he sounded so calm and relaxed, Ronnie knew he would have no problem with killing her.
"What are you talking about?" Ronnie said, more quietly this time, her voice shook.
"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about V. I mean this baby of yours. We both know you can't have it. You're not capable of being a mother, you can't raise a child." Ronnie's insides grew cold. She was suddenly shivering, it felt as if the room temperature had dropped by about thirty degrees.
"What do you mean?" She whispered, knowing she had to protect her child, whatever the cost.
"I'm not letting you keep this child. You will never get rid of it though, I know you, you will do anything to spite me. So I'm going to have to do it for you." Ronnie gaped at him. Surely he wasn't going to try and cut this child out of her? Not only would it obviously kill her baby, it would kill her too.
"What the hell are you going to do?" Ronnie cried, her voice lined with fear and horror. Archie chuckled at her expression.
"Don't worry, I'm not planning on doing anything crazy like cutting you open. That would be psychotic, and I don't think I'm quite there yet." I beg to differ, thought Ronnie, but knew better than to say this out loud. "All I want you do it is to drink this," Archie said, pulling a small bottle from his pocket. Ronnie stared at the bottle, she didn't know what was in it, but was prepared to bet her life that whatever it was, was designed to kill the child inside her.
"And what if I don't?" Said Ronnie, a new found strength in her voice. "What then, are you going to kill me?" Archie said nothing, he simply chuckled and moved closer to where Ronnie lay. He knelt down beside her and ran a hand through her hair. Ronnie tried to pull away, but Archie's fingers clasped her hair and pulled her back towards him. Ronnie flinched in pain. He bent down and whispered in her ear, "for old time's sake."
Then he was on top of her and forcing down her jeans. Ronnie screamed and thrashed, but the ropes that tied her to he floor hardly allowed her to move and she knew that no one else was around to hear. So she went back to her old technique. She relaxed her body and shut off her mind. Casting herself away to a better place, to somewhere no one could hurt her.
When it was over, Archie didn't make any movement to get off of Ronnie. He stayed pinned on top of her, his body repulsively close to hers, his breath hitting her face. Ronnie wouldn't look at him, she couldn't look at him. All she could do in an effort to protect both herself and her unborn baby was to keep her mouth firmly shut, to stop even a drop of the liquid in that bottle from going down her throat.
"Open your mouth V," Archie demanded, but Ronnie didn't hear him. She couldn't focus her mind on anything, she was too deep inside of it. Nothing could come through the protective layer she had thrown across her own mind. Seeing she wasn't going to cooperate, Archie attempted to force his daughter's lips apart, but they were firmly locked together. Scowling, Archie pinched her nose between his finger and thumb and after a few moments, Ronnie was forced to open her mouth, gasping for breath. When she did, Archie was ready. He poured the poison down her throat. Ronnie closed her mouth again and turned away, but it was too late. Already just one droplet her found it way past her lips and down her throat. Ronnie could feel the liquid burning her. And then to her great relief, she found her vision was fogging, soon it would all be over. The poison would kill her too and she could be finally be with her Amy. Finally, she would escape her father's clutches. Just before the fog fully claimed Ronnie's consciousness, Archie lowered himself so his mouth was right at her ear and whispered, 'Danielle wasn't just my granddaughter."
Ronnie's eyes flew open to meet Jack's. His face was inches from hers and he was shaking and calling her, concern etched across every inch of his face. "Jack!" She gasped. Her whole body was trembling with fear and horror. She couldn't ever remember having such a vivid and haunting dream. That was her two worst nightmares rolled into one.
Jack pushed Ronnie's fringe from her damp forehead, his eyes frowning with worry. "What is it Ron?" Jack asked, gently. Ronnie's eyes were wide and fearful, she showed no signs of having heard him, let alone answering him. Jack's concern inflated until it was taking over him completely and Ronnie was all he could think about. "Ronnie, please talk to me sweetheart," he begged, continuing to stroke her hair as if to comfort her.
"I-I had a dream," stammered Ronnie.
"Yes, I got that," said Jack, dryly. "What happened?" Ronnie bit her lip and turned away from him.
"I can't tell you," she whispered. "Maybe one day, I will, but now here. Not now. I can't-" her voice broke and Jack hushed her. He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed it tightly.
"It's OK, Ron," he soothed. "I'm here, I always will be, whenever you want be to, I'll listen." His kind words twisted through Ronnie, causing tears to pour down her cheeks. How come was it, that sometimes, it was kindness that caused a person to cry, and not cruel words?
Seeing her tears, Jack wiped them away with his free hand and kissed her forehead. He then pulled back her blankets and climbed into the bed beside her. He kept one hand in clasped tightly around hers and looped the other around her waist. "I'm not going to leave you Ron," he whispered in her ear. "You're stuck with me, like it or not, and I don't care how long it takes, I don't
care what I have to do, I'll heal you."
This fic has finally come to an end...:(
But don't worry, there's a 76 chapter long sequel! Aren't you the lucky ones?
Here's the first chapter of the sequel my two happy readers! I kinda like the fact that there's only two of you. I wasn't expecting there to be many since this is a fan fic and it makes me feel a part of something. :) And I'm alright as far as being alright for me goes (make sense?) thanks. How's everyone else? I'll stop rambling now and on with the chapter.
Ronnie watched the clock in the corner of the room as its hands slowly ticked round. She had been sitting at this same table for almost three hours now. Ronnie liked to just sit and watch the time go by, counting the minutes until she could join her children. Jack always tried to snap her out of it when she was in one of these traces. Ronnie wished he would leave her alone, but escape was impossible. She had been staying with him since her return from the hospital, as her own home had been destroyed. Six months ago, this would have been what Ronnie wanted most in the world, now however, she wasn't so sure. She still loved Jack, it was just there wasn't enough of her soul left to really express it.
Ronnie glanced back at the clock, wondering how much time had passed since she had last checked. Just two minutes and 37 seconds. It seemed that time had almost stopped existing since her return from the hospital. Sometimes, it would go so fast that whole days would pass before Ronnie had even had the chance to get up in the morning. Other times, it dragged so much, she felt sure that she was trapped in time. Trapped in her own self.
Well she knew she was that. She was held captive inside her own head. She didn't always control her own body anymore. She would find herself out of bed and dressed after showering without even being aware of her decision to get up. When this got too much, when she felt as if she had no control whatsoever over her own life and the people in it, she would go back to the glinting, silver blade that she kept hidden in Danielle's locket. That at least, was something she decided. It was Ronnie who decided when to make that 'one last cut'. It was Ronnie who decided just how deep she would go, how long she would allow it to bled for before wiping it away with a tissue. It was Ronnie who decided if she would use the blade in the locket, or find something else depending on her mood. All the actions, all the decisions, they were up to her. She was in control. Her, not her Dad, not Roxy, not Jack. It was her secret that no one could take away from her.
Not that it was much of a secret. Ronnie had the suspicion that Jack knew. Sometimes, the way he looked at her, it was as if he was trying to communicate to her with his eyes. Stop this, why are you doing this? Why would you want to do such a thing to yourself.
Because I deserve it Jack, Ronnie thought to back to him, because I can't keep even my own babies safe, because this is the only thing that's mine, the only thing I control. It's the only way to let out all this emotion and despair inside me, this way, that pain's on the outside, therefore, I'm not crazy. And because, Jack, I want to feel something. For once, I want to feel something other than a screaming agony or this numbness.
Ronnie would never say any of this out loud of course, it was private. Her thing. It being a secret was the only way it worked. It was the only way she felt she had this power over everyone else. No one knew what she did to herself, no one could hurt her as much as she could, and that was the way it would stay.
Jack felt a pang of guilt and pain whenever he looked at Ronnie. He couldn't stand it that she was falling-no, had fallen- part in front of his very eyes, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He tried to make her talk to him, he made sure she was never alone for too long, he tried to make her eat, he encouraged Claire and Peggy to come over as much as possible. Ronnie being Ronnie though, pushed him away as much as possible. She refused to tell him anything. Even after yet another night when she awoke screaming, she would always just mumble, 'bad dream', whenever Jack questioned it. That was all he ever got.
Admittedly, Ronnie would occasionally talk to Claire when she came over. Jack didn't know what they talked about, but Ronnie always came out of it better. She was never happy exactly, but she was more there. It wasn't as if Jack had to talk to a ghost, someone who had died long ago. At least, when Ronnie had been with Claire, she almost acted human, and for that, Jack would be forever grateful to her.
However, he no longer knew what to do. Jack had tried to get Ronnie to open up to him, to let him help her, but all his efforts failed and he was fast running out of idea. Jack couldn't stand to watch the woman he loved do this to herself. Everyday, he was forced to endure it as Ronnie died a little more. As she pushed him even further away and refused another meal. She needed help, Jack knew that. Proper help, something that was out of his hands. But he also knew Ronnie would never agree. She wouldn't talk to him, let alone a stranger. There was no way on this Earth she was going to admit to having a problem, to actually open up to someone. The way she saw it, if you did your best to ignore something, it would eventually go away.
Maybe, if she had been speaking to her sister, then Roxy could have done something. The two had always had a bond so deep that no one had ever seemed to be able to get to the bottom of it. A bond that Jack had believed was unbreakable. Only once before had he seen the two broken apart like this. After Ronnie had found out what he and Roxy had done. After she found out the truth about Amy. Even that was nothing like this. That time, Ronnie had been angry and hurt, she had wanted to punish Roxy, to hurt her as much as she'd hurt Ronnie, and the only way she could do that short of sleeping with Sean was to cut her sister out of her life.
This was different. This time, there was no guarantee that they would ever get that bond back. In fact, they were guaranteed not to. There was a chance Ronnie would one day forgive Roxy, but something like that, it left its scars. Wounds so deep that they would never fully heal.
Ronnie jumped when a knock sounded on the door and echoed through the Kitchen. She had been deep in thought, lost in her own mind. The sudden noise startled her, pulling her away from the safe place in her head. Ronnie reluctantly climbed to her feet and dragged herself across the kitchen floor to answer the door. Sighing, Ronnie pulled it open, expecting it to be her sister, coming to apologise again, or Peggy, checking up on her. To her relief, and almost with a hint of joy, Ronnie saw it was Claire.
Claire grinned, cheerfully when Ronnie answered the door. It had been ages since Ronnie was the one to come to the door, it was usually Jack, who then directed Claire to wherever Ronnie was at the time.
"Hi," said Claire, brightly. Ronnie didn't smile back, but the haunted look left her eyes slightly. Just enough so that Claire could see that her friend was still there. Somewhere.
"Hey," Ronnie whispered. Without waiting to be invited, Claire bounced through to door and into the kitchen. Ronnie wondered how she always stayed so happy and alive. Claire was one of those people who was always moving. She just couldn't stay still, even when she was sitting down her fingers would be drumming, or she would be constantly fiddling with her hair, entwining strands around her fingers.
Some people found it annoying, Claire had once told her, but Ronnie liked it. Claire had enough life and energy for the both of them, when she was around, Ronnie didn't need to actually live, but she found herself almost wanting to. The life in her was catching. It was almost impossible to be a shell around Claire, even for Ronnie. When she was with her friend, Ronnie didn't feel as if she was alive, but she did feel as if it were possible to one day, maybe, not be quite so dead.
"So," Claire chirped, "what's occurring?" Ronnie raised an eyebrow.
"I thought you were Irish, not Welsh," she almost teased. Claire laughed.
"Multi cultural, that's me. I'm like a maths exam." Now, with Claire it was usually for Ronnie to become slightly confused, but she could generally shrug it off and put the strange behaviour down to her 'being Claire', but this took the biscuit.
"What are you talking about?" Ronnie asked, a hint of expression in her otherwise toneless voice.
"I'm multi cultural, like they're always trying to be on maths exams. You know, how everyone always has a really weird name. I came across someone called Majid* once. And not only that, but they do the most pointless things. I used to get questions like 'Sally measures 48 cucumbers and records her results on a table.' I would just sit there in the exam hall thinking, why? Do these people not have any lives?" Ronnie would have laughed, if she had still known how.
"You know, you are quite possibly the weirdest person I have ever met, and I grew up with Roxy." Claire grinned, as if this was a compliment.
"Thank-you," she laughed. Ronnie rolled her eyes.
"Do you always have to be so...happy," she sighed. Claire pretended to be offended.
"Just because you mope around all day like somebody's killed your Grandma, it doesn't mean we all have to!" If it had been Jack to say this, Ronnie would have made some biting comeback, or walked out, but coming from Claire, it came out the way it should. As a joke, something to laugh off, if only Ronnie could laugh.
Claire and Ronnie continued to talk throughout the rest of the afternoon, neither took in any of the conversation, so it can't have been important, but Ronnie felt as if someone had shone a torch into the huge bottomless pit she was falling deeper into with every passing second. It did nothing to pull her back up, or even stop her falling, but there was light. Soon though, Claire had to leave, she promised to come back the next day. "I think I just saw a little life in your eyes, maybe next week, we can try for a smile!" Claire shot over her shoulder as she walked out of the door. Ronnie watched her go, an almost smile hovering at the edges of her mouth, but as soon as Claire was out of her sight and Ronnie was alone again with her thoughts, she continued to fall down the black hole that seemed to have no end.
“Never lose faith in yourself,
and never lose hope;
remember, even when this world throws its worst and then turns its back,
there is still always hope.”
Lol. I have discovered that the music teacher, defiantly does not teach biology. I had a dream that she did, so asked her about it. Strangely, she didn't seem freaked that I had been dreaming about her, she just laughed. This could be triggering btw.
Ronnie's pace quickened as she walked down the steps leading up to Jack's flat. It was late at night and the street lights were lacking. Gazing around her, Ronnie realised there was no one else around. Maybe everyone had just decided to stay in, as it was Christmas. Still, this didn't stop Ronnie walking fast down the street. Everything being so quiet was eerie, it wasn't normal for Walford and it scared her. It was hard to describe how she felt, she just had this awful sense of foreboding, as if something horrible was going to happen. There was something in the atmosphere. Something evil, waiting and watching.
Ronnie suddenly broke into a run, she could hear someone behind her, and although they were probably harmless, her paranoia grew. Before she had gotten very far however, her foot caught in a drain and she landed hard on her hands and knees. Shaking off the pain, Ronnie tried to scrabble to her feet, but before she could move, a hand covered her mouth from behind. Ronnie felt herself being pulled upwards and dragged away through the darkness. She couldn't have screamed, even if there had been no hand. She was frozen in fear and horror.
Her captor dragged her round a back alleyway, where he shoved her hard up against a cold, stone wall. Ronnie closed her eyes, she had no power over this person. She was too scared to move, there was nothing she could do. Something cold touched Ronnie's cheek. A sharp edge gently stroked her face. A knife. If she moved, whoever had her would kill her. Ronnie could tell by the feel of the hands that this was a man. No woman could handle her this roughly, hold her this tightly. The man said nothing as he began to run his hands across her body, thrusting his lips onto hers. There was something very familiar about his touch, but Ronnie couldn't place it.
With her brain frozen in fear, all Ronnie could do was stand and take it as the man continued to touch and kiss her. She heard the sound of a zipper, then felt her own jeans being pulled down. It was in that moment that something clicked in her brain and the adrenaline kicked in. Ronnie pulled her face away from their hand and screamed. She then kicked out with her foot and felt it connect with something. Whoever was holding her cried out in pain.
Ronnie froze.
She would recognise that voice anywhere.
"Ronnie! Ron!" Ronnie's eyes shot open to Jack shaking her, vigorously. She gave a cry of fear, her dream still fresh in her mind and pushed Jack away from her. It wasn't a hard shove, but Jack sensed her fear and drew back, sharply. Ronnie stared at him for a few moment, her eyes wide with fear and her breath coming out in short gasps. "Ronnie?" Jack almost whispered, not wanting to scare her.
A small sob escaped Ronnie's throat and she turned on her side, away from Jack, pulling her knees up to her chest. The dreams were so real, and always so detailed. Each time she had a nightmare, Ronnie felt as if she was really living it, and it was almost as traumatising as it would be if she was. It was always the same person though. In every dream, it was never Tony who hurt her, it was always her Dad.
Jack watched as Ronnie once again turned her back on him, and curled her body close together, as if she was trying to protect herself. Slowly, not wanting to startle her, Jack reached out a hand and gently touched her arm. This simple gesture had a huge effect upon Ronnie. She jumped violently, recoiling from his touch, then leapt out of the bed. With one last fearful glance at Jack, she ran from the room. Jack heard the bathroom door slam shut.
Mentally slapping himself for being so stupid, Jack swung his legs out of bed and hurried after Ronnie, his feet tripping over his discarded trousers in his hurry to get to her. He reached the bathroom and leant against the door and knocked, gently.
"Ron?" He called. "Ron, what's the matter?" As he was expecting, Jack received no reply. He could hear Ronnie sobbing behind the door, and it broke his heart that he couldn't comfort her. He wanted to break down the barrier that separated them and wrap his arms around her. He wanted Ronnie to hug him back and tell him everything that went on inside her head. He wanted to take all her pain away with one touch of his hands. But she was too broken for all of that, Jack was beginning to wonder if anything or anyone could heal her.
Ronnie sat on the floor of the bathroom, curled in a corner. She hadn't even bothered to switch on the light,
where she was, was so dark that the light almost physically hurt. She rested her head against the cold bathroom wall and sobbed. She wanted to cry until all the pain and fear went away, until she no longer felt as if there was a piece of glass lodged in her heart, ripping everything apart, she wanted to cry until she felt alive again.
Eventually, the tears subsided enough for Ronnie to be able to see the newly opened packet of razors on the shelf in front of her. She raised one hand and wiped away her tears. Then she slowly pulled herself to her feet and dragged herself across the bathroom floor, her bare feet scraping the rough surface. Ronnie took a razor from the packet and bashed it against the wall until the plastic casing shattered.
With the blade clasped tightly in her hand, Ronnie sunk down onto the toilet seat. She pulled up the sleeve of her dressing gown to reveal her scarred, tattered arm covered in cuts, many still healing. Sometimes, looking at the results of what she had done scared Ronnie. She hadn't even realised she had done it this often. Where had half of these came from? It was as if it was a disease that spread from one part of her body to another, it wouldn't stop. All the time it would continue to grow, covering her whole body in cuts and scars, until the skin on her arms was no longer visible. Then it would move to her legs, covering them in the same way, ruining everything it came into contact with.
Ronnie gripped the blade between her finger and thumb, turning it over and examining it in the darkness. It didn't shimmer like it did in the light, but Ronnie liked it this way. In the dark, the blade was dull and lifeless, much like herself. Ronnie moved slowly, bringing the edge of the blade to rest on her forearm. This was the only way she felt real, the only way she felt as if she was alive and could feel something other than the heartbreaking agony and relentless fear. It was OK. She was in control. No one else could chose how much she was hurt, that decision lay totally with Ronnie. It was her choice.
Carefully, as if she was trying to draw out the process, Ronnie dragged the blade across her arm and watched the blood flow. There. That proved she was still alive. Those who were dead didn't have blood running through their veins. The dead didn't get to watch as it poured from their skin, creating a contrasting pool on the whiteness of their flesh. Dead people didn't feel the sharp, stinging pain that came with the blood.
After a few moments, Ronnie wiped away the blood and got to her feet. It was only then that she became aware of Jack pounding on the door, calling her name. How long had he been there? Had he been knocking the whole time she was in there? If so, why was it that Ronnie hadn't heard him? She had been so deep inside her own mind that she had blocked off everything except for the task at hand. Nothing else had got past the barrier that protected her.
Ronnie walked over to the door and pulled it open, just as Jack raised his foot, as if to kick it down. Ronnie blinked at him, but didn't speak. "Ron!" Gasped Jack, pulling her into a tight hug. Ronnie allowed the embrace, but didn't return in. "Don't do that to me Ron, I though..." Jack's voice trailed away and he didn't finish his sentence, but both of them knew exactly what he had been about to say. Jack sighed as he took in Ronnie's appearance. Her cheeks were stained with dried tears, and she was pale with dark circles under her eyes. Her dressing gown seemed to hang from her empty frame.
"You alright?" Jack whispered, knowing he wouldn't receive a truthful answer. Ronnie nodded roboticlly and pushed past him back into the bedroom.
Jack stared after her, without instantly following. He just didn't know what to do anymore. Ronnie was pulling herself further and further away from him and each day she seemed to be getting worse and worse instead of better. Jack was terrified that one day he would wake up to find her gone, that one night she would wake up from yet another nightmare and decided she just couldn't take it anymore, and would then take herself from him whist he slept on, knowing nothing. "Please don't leave me, Ron," Jack whispered to the empty spot where she had been standing just moments ago.
I keep forgetting about this. If anyone gets impatient, give me a nudge. Again, triggering. Please be careful :)
Jack watched as Ronnie pushed her food around the plate, as usual, nothing actually reached her mouth. She had lost so much weight recently, her clothes no longer fitted her, and her collar bond produced marginally from her skin. Jack jumped when he heard the clatter of Ronnie's fork being dropped onto her plate. With a sigh he glanced down at her untouched dinner as she pushed it away. Jack put down his own fork, still staring at Ronnie's plate. He didn't think she was deliberately starving herself, she just couldn't summon the energy or the motivation to eat.
Jack opened his mouth to say something to her, to plead with her to eat something, but soon closed it again. They had had the same argument virtually every mealtime, and Jack knew that Ronnie would just mumble something about not being hungry and then refuse to talk about it anymore, if Jack continued to peruse the matter, she would scape back her chair and walk away. It was the way she always reacted when Jack tried to bring up the subject of her behaviour.
There was a squeak against the floor as Ronnie pushed back her chair and stood. Jack's eyes flicked to her face, as if searching for something, but for what, he didn't know.
"Ron..." Jack began, taking a deep breath. He knew she wouldn't like what he was about to say. She probably wouldn't even listen. Jack tried again, dropping his eyes from her face so he didn't have to see her expression. "Ronnie, you need help," Jack almost whispered. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground, deliberately not looking at her.
Ronnie didn't reply. She blinked at Jack, trying to make sense of his words. Had he had enough of her? As Ronnie continued to stare at Jack, she found his outline beginning to blur and go out of focus. She could feel herself swaying on her feet as the room began to spin.
Finally, Jack raised his eyes from the tiled floor to look at Ronnie. She was staring at him without seeing. Jack then noticed that she was swaying, close to falling. He jumped to his feet, the chair he had been sitting in crashed to the floor in his haste to reach Ronnie. Jack took hold of Ronnie's shoulders to stop her falling, then pushed her gently, but forcefully down onto the chair she had just been sitting in. Ronnie closed her eyes, the spinning was making her feel sick. She could feel Jack's hands firmly on her arms, and knew, with him there, she wouldn't fall.
"Ron?" Jack's worried voice floated to her from somewhere a long way away. Slowly, Ronnie opened her eyes, the spinning, to her relief, had stopped.
"I'm fine Jack," she mumbled, pushing his hands away. In that moment, Jack felt something inside of him snap. He couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't let Ronnie do this anymore.
"No you are not!" He yelled, his sudden raised voice startled Ronnie, and she jumped slightly in her seat. Other than that, she didn't react at all to Jack's voice. "Stop saying that! You are clearly anything but fine. 'Fine' people, don't starve themselves, they don't wake up screaming every night, they're not this withdrawn, they don't push people away like you do, they don't lock themselves in bathrooms, and no one spends every moment of everyday terrified that they are going to kill themselves!"
Ronnie leapt to her feet so fast, she almost fell again, but managed to keep her balance by hanging onto the wooden table.
"What are you saying Jack? Am I some sort of nut case now? Do you want to get rid of me? Have me carted off?" Ronnie shouted back. That was the most she had used her voice in weeks, and it almost hurt to do it.
"Yes! No, I mean, not like that. Not in the way that you say it," Jack argued.
"Then how do you mean it Jack?" Ronnie glared at him, daring him to tell her she was crazy.
"I mean you need help! Professional help. Anti-depressants, counselling, something! I can't do this Ron! I have no idea what to do anymore, you won't let me in. All you do is push me away and force me to watch as you slowly kill yourself!"
"This isn't about you! Just shove me off onto someone else, like you always do and have it over with!"
Jack ran is hands through his hair and down his face. This wasn't going like he wanted it to. He knew Ronnie would not react well to being told she needed help, but Jack knew he was handling it all wrong. He hadn't meant to shout at her, that wasn't the original plan. None of it was Ronnie's fault. She didn't ask for all this to happen.
"Ron, please, listen to me. I don't want to 'shove you off onto someone else', I love you and want to help you, but you're not making it easy. If you want me to help you, you're going to have to let me in. Talk to me," he explained, gently.
"Well I don't, so please, just leave me alone," said Ronnie, her voice weighed by depression.
Ronnie turned to leave, but Jack threw himself into her path. "No Ronnie, you're not walking out of this one. We need to discuss this, either you talk to me or you talk to a professional, either way, we are not carrying on like this. I can't watch you do this to yourself." Ronnie's eyes hardened. She kept her face totally expressionless and looked Jack right in the eye.
"Then don't," she challenged, attempting to push past him. Jack grabbed hold of her arm to stop her from leaving.
"I told you, you aren't going," he snapped. Ronnie glared at him and tried to pull away from his grip, but Jack held tight. "You can't just keep running away! We will have this conversation, and that isn't up for
debate."
"So you're going to try and force what you want upon me too are you?" Ronnie said, icily.
Jack released her arm as if it had electrocuted him, recoiling from he words. Ronnie pushed past him again, and this time, Jack let her go.
Jack stayed standing in the same spot long after Ronnie left. How had he managed to mess that up so spectacularly? What had gone so wrong? Jack knew the answer. It was when he had begun shouting at her instead of talking to her gently. But he had tried that. For weeks he had tried to give Ronnie space, to not constantly be fussing around her, knowing this would only push her further away. As a result, Ronnie had shut him off completely. She hardly even spoke to him.
Even though he knew he handled it wrongly, Jack meant what he said. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't stand by and watch as she slowly killed herself, as she sank deeper and deeper into depression with every passing day. It killed him that he couldn't help her, that there was nothing he could do to make her pain go away. Most of all, he couldn't stand the thought, that he almost wanted her to kill herself. Jack hated himself for thinking it, and it wasn't for selfish reasons, it wasn't because he hated Ronnie. He didn't, he loved her. He just couldn't bare to see her in so much pain, and if that was what it would take to end her pain, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing.
Maybe it was his fault she was in this position to start off with. He shouldn't have let her walk home alone that night. What was he thinking? He just let her go. If he had walked with her, then maybe she wouldn't have been attacked. In fact, there was no maybe about it. If Jack had been there, he knew there was no way on this Earth, or any other, that he would have allowed it to happen. He would have killed the man if necessary. There was nothing he wouldn't do for Ronnie. Even allowing her to die.
Ronnie had pushed the chest of drawers against the door, so Jack couldn't burst in unexpectedly. She sat curled in the middle of the bedroom carpet, rocking gently, holding her arm. Why wouldn't it stop bleeding? She was meant to control this, not the other way around. But blood continued to pulse from her arm, and Ronnie, having forgotten how to ask for help, pressed her lips together and stayed silent, praying that the pain would soon end.
Forgot about this again! Sorry. Thanks for your comments :)
Jack sat with his head in his hands, his elbows propped on the table. On more than one occasion, he wondered if he should go and talk to Ronnie and tell her he was sorry. He shouldn't have handled it the way he did, he knew Ronnie wasn't going to like it, and shouting certainly didn't help. A few times, Jack got as far as standing outside the bedroom door, his hand poised to knock, but something had always stopped him at the last minute. A part of him was scared that she would only shout and get angry, and hence fourth push herself even further away from him. Another part of him, although Jack wouldn't admit it to himself, was scared of what he might find.
The ring of the door bell interrupted Jack's thought pattern and caused him to jump slightly. As he made his way over to answer the door, Jack found himself hoping it wasn't Roxy. She had been round a few times, but Ronnie had always refused to speak to her. Of course, Ronnie never displayed any emotion after Roxy's visits, but Jack could see they upset her. Ronnie and Roxy had always forgiven each other in time, whatever the other had done; but this time was different. Roxy had hurt Ronnie so deeply, Jack didn't know if she would ever forgive her sister. The trust and reassurance that Roxy would be there always had both gone.
To Jack's great relief, he saw it wasn't Roxy, but Claire. "Oh it's you," he sighed in relief. Claire frowned slightly.
"Nice to see you too," she joked. Jack cracked a small smile.
"It's nothing against you," he explained. "I was just expecting someone else, Ronnie's sister keeps calling round."
"The one who had a thing with that bloke who..." Claire made a hand gesture to demonstrate what she meant without having to say the word. Jack nodded.
"Yep, Ronnie just can't forgive her. I was hoping it wasn't Roxy, those visits never end well."
"Ronnie in?" Asked Claire, changing the subject. She knew what the answer would be. Ronnie was always in, she had hardly left Jack's flat since she had came out of the hospital, not even to visit her family at Billy's. Some of them had been to see her a few times, but Ronnie had always been unresponsive and irritable, and they had soon left, feeling as if they had only made things worse.
"She's in," said Jack, nodding. "But I'm not sure this is a good time."
"Is it ever?" Said Claire, reasonably. Jack shrugged.
"Fair point, but today it really isn't." Jack realised then that Claire was still standing on the doorstep and opened the door wider to let her in.
"We've had a bit of an argument," Jack explained. "I told her- I told her she needed help." Claire winced.
"I bet she didn't like that."
"No, she didn't. We got into a fight about it, and Ronnie being Ronnie tried to walk away. I grabbed her arm to stop her leaving and she said, "Are you going to try and force what you want on me too?""
"Oh," was all Claire said before falling silent.
"It was my fault," Jack sighed, "I shouldn't have shouted. I didn't mean to get angry, she's just so...frustrating." Claire nodded in agreement.
"I know what you mean. Sometimes, it's as if she's not even there, like she's not listening to a word you're saying. I feel so powerless, no one can force her to do anything she doesn't want to or watch her 24/7. I'm scared that one day, she's going to..." Claire was unable to finish her sentence. There was no need to.
Ronnie leant heavily against the bedroom door, and closed her eyes. Her arm had finally stopped bleeding, but the incident had scared her. This was supposed to be something she could control, something that was her choice. Only that time, she had cut and the blood hadn't stopped. It had pulsed from her arm continuously, and if Ronnie had had any part of her that had cared for her own life, she may have been scared for it.
Now, she stood at the door, listening to Claire and Jack's conversation. Ronnie had heard Claire arrive, but couldn't summon the energy or enthusiasm to go and talk to her. Anyway, it seemed like she was getting along fine with Jack. The pair were discussing her in hushed voices, unaware that they needn't have bothered, Ronnie could hear every word they were saying without even trying. She felt a small pang of hurt at Jack's words, and another when Claire agreed with him. She had thought Claire was on her side, she was the only person who treated Ronnie like a human being rather than a breakable, glass, exhibit in a museum.
Ronnie wanted to get out, to escape, but the only way out was through the front door, which meant walking though the living room where Jack and Claire were talking. Ronnie didn't want to face them, if she walked out now, they would jump guiltily and exchange awkward glances, wondering how much she had heard.
Claire's voice floated under the door, so quietly that Ronnie wondered if she had misheard her. "Do you ever wish you have never gotten involved?" The harsh words sounded all wrong mixed with Claire's soft, sing-song accent. However, it was Jack's reply that sliced through Ronnie much sharper and deeper than any of her blades had ever done. Ronnie wondered how one single syllable could hurt so much. "Yes."
Ronnie wondered slowly down the street, lost in her thoughts. She had climbed out of the bedroom window and down the drain pipe after overhearing what was said between Jack and Claire. She hadn't had to get out that way in years, not since she was fourteen and was forced to grow up very quickly. Too grown up for childish things like climbing out of windows. It wasn't as if she had had anywhere to go anyway. Ronnie had always had trouble making friends; even as a child she had been shut off from others. No one could get past her barriers, and after she had gotten pregnant, people stopped trying. They thought she was a slag, a slut, and her Dad had often told her that they were right. People kept their distance and that was just the way Ronnie liked it.
As she walked, Ronnie went over and over in her head what Jack had said. Did he really wish he had never met her? Never started going out with her? Never fallen in love with her? Was he in love with her? An hour ago, Ronnie would have said no, of course not to the first three and yes to the fourth. Now she wasn't so sure. Jack admitted himself to wishing he wasn't involved. Ronnie knew her attitude got to Jack. Annoyed him even. He was desperately worried about her, Ronnie knew that, but what she hadn't known was that he didn't want to be a part of her life. Had he ever? Was he going to leave her? Ronnie didn't think she could stand it if he did. Despite what she said to him, and what he and others may think, Ronnie needed Jack, and she had thought that Jack needed her.
So lost was she in her thoughts, that Ronnie didn't notice the person in front of her until she had quite literally bumped right into them. "Sorry," she apologised, vaguely, without looking up.
"You should watch where you're going, Veronica," said the chilling voice that haunted her dreams. It snapped Ronnie out of her thoughts and she looked up abruptly to stare into the cold eyes of her Father. Ronnie sighed and tried to walk past him, she wasn't in the mood to face him; but Archie stopped her with one lazy movement of his hand. "Can't you even spare a moment to talk to your old Dad?" His voice dripped with sarcastic kindness. Determined to show no emotion, Ronnie kept her face blank and her voice cold.
"Leave me alone," she muttered, attempting to leave for the second time, but was once again stopped by Archie.
"Come on now, I haven't seen you since you threw me out of the hospital, that wasn't very nice was it?" The almost hatred present in his tone made Ronnie want to shiver, but she didn't want to give her Dad that satisfaction.
"What did you expect? A warm welcome with party poppers and banners? I hate you. I hate every moment of your existence, so just. Leave. Me. Alone." Ronnie spat the last three words, the same hatred entwined in her words that was present in Archie's. Her Dad only smirked.
"Now now Veronica, that's no way to talk to your father is it? I can see I haven't taught you well enough. We'll just have to see if we can get that sharp tongue of yours out of your head." As Archie spoke his threatening words, he took hold of Ronnie's arm in a vice like grip. His fingers curled around her most recent cuts and she cried out in pain.
Quickly, before she could move away, Archie used his free hand to whisk up Ronnie's sleeve. He tutted when he saw the damage that she had inflicted upon herself. "I wonder if Jack knows about this." Ronnie could tell it wasn't a question, it was a threat. She yanked her arm from Archie's grip and pulled her sleeve down in one quick movement.
"I'm not a little girl anymore Dad," she said, calmly. "You can't threaten and control me." Archie smiled his bone chilling smirk.
"No," he whispered, "but you still let men do it don't you?" Ronnie froze, every part of her went into shut down at his words. Knowing that he had successfully destroyed another part of his daughter, Archie pushed past Ronnie, leaving her alone in the deserted street.
I got the inspiration for the last bit whilst ice skating, heck knows how.
Sozza! << I can't believe I have just used that term. If anyone is still reading this at all, I congratulate you. Trigger warnings.
Ronnie stood alone in the street for some time. Her Dad's words flashed through her mind over and over again, you still let men do it. Jack, Claire and so many others had told her that what happened with Tony wasn't her fault over and over again, but it was. All of it. Everything was her fault. Her Dad was right, she let him do it. She should have fought him off, or ran away. But like the weak, pathetic woman she was, she had let him do it to her. Once again, she had let a man touch her against her will. She was dirty. She deserved everything she got.
Even Jack didn't want her. The one man who she thought would stick by her, whatever happened, didn't want her. Ronnie was too damaged and dirty for anyone ever to want her. Her own family hardly came near her. Even when they did, the soon left again. They must be scared that spending too much time with her would make them the same. Scared that the badness inside of her was catching. If they were with her for too long, the rotten black mass that had come to rest in the tattered remains of her heart would pass onto them, and then they would be the bad ones.
All along Archie had told Ronnie that she was worthless, bad, that she was no good. Whilst growing up, Ronnie had done her very best not to pay attention to him. That's why she had started calling herself Ronnie as soon as she left his house. It was why she insisted that no one call her Veronica. Ever. It was only her Dad that continued to call her by the name she hated. Now she was her own person, living in her own home, he needed a different way to destroy her; so he served as a constant reminder of the past she desperately wanted to escape.
Every time Ronnie looked at her Father, she saw the man that had ruined her childhood and with it her whole self. From the moment she was born, Archie had made it his sole mission in his life to ruin hers. All through her childhood, Ronnie had wondered what she had done to make her Father hate her so much, to make him do what he did. She soon came to realise that it was because she was just wrong. Archie must have seen the badness inside her from the very second he first laid eyes on her. He must have seen what other people missed, what even Ronnie herself didn't know was there until she could feel it running over her bones and through her heart and soul, consuming and destroying her.
A cold wind had began to blow, encircling Ronnie as if she were its prey. It whipped her hair around her face and tugged at her sleeves so they pressed against her skin. Even this small pressure made Ronnie wince with pain as the soft material brushed against her most recent and deepest cut. Ronnie hardly even noticed as it began to rain, softly at first, then harder and harder until Ronnie was standing alone in the empty road, every inch of her soaked and dripping. Still, she did not move. The bitter cold that came with the combination of the wind and rain seemed not to affect her. It was as if the protective barrier she had built around herself to stop anyone or anything hurting her had finally began to work. Either that or she was just too broken and destroyed for anything to do and damage anymore.
It was only when the first clap of thunder reached her ears that Ronnie blinked and looked around her in surprise, as if she had only just noticed the storm. She also realised how alone she was. Either due to the fact that darkness had fallen over Walford in the late hour, or because of the weather, there was no one else in the street. Not even her Dad. The total isolation caused Ronnie to begin to shake uncontrollably. From her own experiences, she knew all too well what happened when she was alone. Whenever her Mother and sister went out when she was a child, and now when she was grown up she still wasn't safe. It was when there was no one else around to protect her that the darkest forces came for her. Not just the physical ones, it was at these times when Ronnie was the most danger to herself. The times when there was no one else around to witness her actions, when there would be no evidence that what she could do would be deliberate.
Jack paced the kitchen of his flat, frantic. Once Claire had gone, Jack had knocked on the bedroom door to talk to Ronnie, to apologise and make her see that he only wanted to help her, that he cared if only she would let him. It was only then that he had realised that she was gone. Jack had seen the open window and put two and two together. Instantly, a panic had risen inside of him, he knew that Ronnie was in no state to be out alone, especially not after their argument. However, when Jack had caught site of the splashes of blood that stained the cream carpet, his worry had escalated until he could think of nothing else.
His first thought had been to call the police, but what would he say? Excuse me, my thirty six year old girlfriend has escaped out of the bedroom window, and I'm worried that she may have hurt herself. Jack had had enough experience as a police officer to know that they would simply tell him they had to wait until she had been gone for twenty four hours before she could be reported missing, even if he told them all that had happened to her in the past few weeks. To them, Ronnie was a grown woman and could do whatever she wanted. Unless there was any immediate evidence that she had been taken against her will would they be able to do anything.
Instead, Jack had called Claire, and whist she was out searching, Jack stayed at the flat, vigilant and waiting for Ronnie's return. Claire had sounded as worried as Jack was when he had called her, especially when he had explained about the blood. She had instantly volunteered to go out and search while Jack waited at the flat in case she came back, or called. Claire had promised to call Jack as soon as she found something, but only if it was an emergency, as Ronnie may be trying to get through.
Whilst he waited for any news of maybe even for Ronnie to come back, Jack thought of all they had been through together. He had hurt her so much, sleeping with her sister, not only that, but then Roxy falling pregnant with his baby. Finally, when they had gotten through that particular incident, and Ronnie had forgiven him, they had began to slowly start something up again. They hadn't been dating exactly, but they both knew how they felt about each other, and that the other had felt the same. Then, Roxy had kissed him at Amy's funeral, and Jack had not instantly pulled away. When he saw Ronnie standing in the doorway, having witnessed what had happened between Roxy and him, he had seen the hurt in her eyes.
It was in that moment that he realised the true extent of his feelings
towards her. It wasn't just a passing crush, something he could easily get over if nothing came of it. He loved her. And from what he could tell, Ronnie loved him too. After she ran from the church, Jack knew he had no choice but to go after her, he couldn't lose her. He loved her too much to ever let her go again, and she didn't even know it. Only he had let her go again. Jack had stopped her leaving the country by announcing his feelings over the flight attendant's speaker, but just weeks later, he had once again broke her heart.
Admittedly, he had been angry when he had discovered what she was doing, concerned even. He had thought that pricking holes in the condom wasn't normal behaviour, he thought she needed help. In that moment, he wanted to lash out, to hurt her and make her feel the betrayal and hurt that he was feeling, so he had said the one thing that he knew would cut Ronnie deeper than anything else. He had said she was just like Archie. The man she had spent most of her life hating. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jack had regretted ever saying them. But instead of telling her that, he had ran out. It was only after a talk with his brother, Max, that Jack realised that what Ronnie had done wasn't all that bad. He realised she was no different from him. There was something she wanted and she wasn't going to let anything stand in her way. That was the way Ronnie always had been and always would be. So he had gone back to the flat to tell her he had changed him mind, that he wanted a family with her and he was sorry, but she was gone. When Jack found her
engagement ring on the table, he knew he had lost her once again.
Claire pulled her coat tighter around her as the wind picked up and another clap of thunder sounded in the distance. She had been out for just ten minutes and was already soaked and so cold she could no longer feel most of her body. The rain was falling in hard, heavy droplets that almost hurt upon skin contact. Claire had always been afraid of storms,, right from when she was a child. Growing up in Ireland, she had experienced her own fair share of them, but that only increased her fear instead of easing it. It wasn't just the sound, the not knowing when the next bolt would come, it was the feeling that always became before and after.
Just before a storm started, the atmosphere changed. It felt to Claire as if there was something evil waiting, a feeling like nothing was ever going to feel the same. This feeling was always worse when in open air. In Ireland, where the whole country was virtually open and empty, it was as if nothing and nobody could stop the evil that was coming, or protect her from what was sure to happen.
The way she felt before a storm was much like she had felt that night of the fire, which was why she had thought nothing of it. To Claire, it had just been the start f another storm, so she prepared to lock up the shop and stay in the back room, reading a book until it had passed. As it happened, she was not too far off the mark, but the storm that had hit was very different to what Claire had become accustomed to. This one was ongoing, it hit hard and fast, and had caused such devastation, that Claire didn't know if anyone effected could rebuild their lives before the
storm.
When she was a little girl and living in Ireland, she had always gone to her parents whenever a storm hit. She would wonder into their room, and they would always get up and stay awake with her and her little brother playing stupid games. They would light a fire to keep the house warm, and even put some music on to block out the sound of the storm, even if it was three in the morning. One upside to living in such an isolated place was that they could make as much noise as they wanted on these occasions, as there were no neighbours to consider. Even if there had been it wouldn't have mattered; no one was going to hear the chatter and the pounding of the music over the raging thunder and pouring rain.
Now, with none of her family to comfort her, even though she was a grown woman of twenty seven, there was nothing to protect her against the vengeful weather. In any other situation, Claire would have refused to go out until the storm had passed, but now, when the only real friend she had had since Alice was missing and possibly in danger, she felt as if she had to help in any way possible. If she saved Ronnie now, it would make up for failing to save her best friend all those years ago.
Meanwhile, Ronnie stumbled through the streets, she didn't know where she was going to, or even where she had come from. She just needed to escape, to walk and carry on walking. Instead of letting up, the storm had only gotten worse in the time she had been moving. It was as if the weather was conforming against her, warning her to turn back. More than once, Ronnie had thought about going back to the flat and back to Jack. But she couldn't help thinking about what he and Claire had said.
Although she couldn't leave Jack or hate Claire, they were all she had left in the world, she didn't feel as if she could go back just yet.
Ronnie wondered what Jack was doing while she was missing. Maybe he was relieved and hoping she wouldn't come back. If she went for good, he wouldn't have to put up with her anymore, and could skip the job of telling her he didn't want her. At this thought, Ronnie realised it was possible for her heart to break even more. On the other hand, he might be worried. Even if he didn't want her, Ronnie knew he cared about her. The way he acted around her, and the way he spoke showed that. He wanted to help her, and he worried about her more than anyone, but maybe he had had enough. Maybe Ronnie had pushed him too far. Maybe now, she had kept him at such a distance, he couldn't find his way back to her and had given up trying.
After a while, Ronnie's head was began to spin. She didn't know how long she had been walking, she had long since lost all sense of time, but her legs were aching and she had already been weak from lack of food and the blood loss earlier. Now her brain was clouding over and Ronnie knew she couldn't walk much further. She staggered over the the closest brick wall, which she slipped behind so she wouldn't be seen as easily.
Ronnie leant heavily against the cold brick. The fog was so strong now, that she could no longer think. It had seeped out of her brain and in front of her eyes, making it difficult to see clearly more then one foot in front of her. The wall on the other side of the alley that she had crept down was jumping around, sometimes splitting in two or blurring so the edges were hard to make out. The world was slowly fading away, and with it bringing a peace that Ronnie hadn't felt in such a long time. She closed her eyes as her body began to slip down the cold stone. There was a full wheelie bin next to the wall, which Ronnie greatfully leant against as the fog became so thick that it covered her completely and blocked out the rest of the world.
The peace that Ronnie had first found when she surrendered herself to the fog wasn't to last. Soon, she was opening her eyes to unfamiliar surroundings. She could see nothing, for everything around her was cast in shadows and darkness, but the atmosphere was one she had never felt before. She wasn't in her old home, The Vic or even in Jack's flat. This was a place she had never been before. To her surprise, Ronnie found she could move, she had been expecting to be tied down.
Upon this discovery, Ronnie pushed herself into a sitting position. She looked around her, trying to make some sense of where she was, but she still saw nothing. Then, in the distance, Ronnie saw a faint, flickering light. It was moving towards her, as if it knew she was there. Suddenly, Ronnie felt an overwhelming sense of foreboding and fear. Somehow, she knew she wasn't safe. There was a presence of evil in the air. Ronnie knew she had to get out. Ronnie leapt to her feet and tried to run. At first, she seemed to be moving; she was making progress. Although she had no idea where she was running to, anywhere was better than staying. But to her horror, Ronnie felt the floor begin to move. It was jerking and wobbling under her feet and Ronnie had to fight to keep her balance. She knew she couldn't run anywhere on this. Every time she tried to move, she was almost flung to the floor by the force of the movement.
Panicking, Ronnie turned towards the light, which was growing closer to her by the second. Ronnie attempted to run again, knowing she didn't want whoever it was to get to her, no matter what the consequences. As soon as she tried to move however, the floor gave a violent jerk and she was thrown hard to the floor and cried out in pain as her leg twisted underneath her. She tried to climb to her feet once again, but her bad leg wouldn't support her weight and she collapsed again as soon as she had managed to stand. Ronnie tried to scramble away without standing, but she wasn't fast enough and whoever was holding the candle was soon upon her.
Ronnie was unable to see their face in the dim light, but she certainly felt it as they set the candle down on the floor and used their arms and legs to pin her in position on the now calm and still ground. Ronnie tried to fight the person off, but they were too strong for her. She felt her jeans being pulled down to her knees and then the person was moving inside of her, causing a stabbing, sharp pain with every movement. Ronnie cried out and began to sob as the nightmare showed no end.
Ronnie's eyes fluttered open and she came face to face with Claire shaking her frantically, her eyes wide with fear. Ronnie wanted to ask her what she was doing there, and how she had found her, but speaking involved too much energy.
"Are you alright?" Claire asked, relieved as Ronnie woke up. She still wasn't able to find her voice, so Ronnie just blinked at Claire, recoiling as she reached out a hand to touch Ronnie's arm. Claire bit her lip in worry. She didn't know what to do. It had taken a while to wake Ronnie up, and now she wouldn't even speak to her. Ronnie just stared, her features alive with terror.
"I'm calling Jack," Claire told Ronnie in a voice that said it was a statement of fact, not a question and was not to be argued with. She needn't have bothered, Ronnie didn't seem to be restructuring anything Claire was saying, she just continued to stare, unblinking and unseeing.
As Claire pulled out her mobile to make the call, she was unaware of the hooded figure standing several feet away, hidden in the shadows. Watching.
Anyone else really pissed off about what is currently going on in EE?
