Also Featuring:

past-kaylee_icon.gif past-karen_icon.gif

Scene Title Runaway
Synopsis The darkest of memories bleed through, coming to the surface like purple bruises.
Date June 29, 2021

She turns up the radio so she doesn’t have to listen to the shouting.

I'm in the dark
I'd like to read his mind

Curled up in a ball on her bed with her back to the wall and eyes on her bedroom door, she jolts when the wall rattles. She jolts when a framed award she got in school falls to the floor. She grabs her portable radio, turns the volume all the way up, cradles it to her chest.

But I'm frightened of the things I might find

On another night she wakes to the sound of his drunken shouting. They’re arguing in the kitchen, he throws a chair, she covers her ears to block out the sound.

Oh, there must be something he's thinking of
To tear him away

A window slams and she startles out of her chair. Muffled yelling down the hall interspersed with crying. She scrambles across her bedroom floor, grabs the radio and turns it on, then closes herself in her closet, holding the radio close to her head. She doesn’t dare turn it up too loud. He might hear. He might be mad.

When I tell him that I'm falling in love
Why does he say

At dinner it’s peaceful, he’s smiling and being attentive. Her mother walks by and kisses him on top of his bald head, he puts an arm around her waist and dips her dramatically. She flutters with laughter, her eyes are bright, she’s smiling. The concealer hides the rest.

Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry
Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry

Seven in the evening and her mother is coming home from a day at work. No one had started dinner, and she’s coloring at the coffee table on the floor in front of the couch. He says something insensitive, her mother is too tired to manage her emotions for him. He grabs her by the wrist. She drops her colored pencils and runs to her room.

I try so hard not to get upset

She is under her bed, holding the radio close to her head, eyes red and puffy with tears.

Because I know all the trouble I'll get

The sound of glass breaking, accusations flying. He says he’s sorry. He says he loves her mother. Her mother forgives him.

Oh, he tells me tears are something to hide
And something to fear

Her mother doesn’t think she could have it better. Her mother is afraid for her.

And I try so hard to keep it inside
So no one can hear

They’re in the kitchen and her mother backs up into him while laughing. He drops his coffee and the mug shatters on the floor. Her mother’s face pales, he strikes her across it and she can’t catch herself this time. Her mother falls to the kitchen floor.

Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry
Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry
Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry

She screams, runs for her mother. He grabs her by the arm, drags her away. He’s shouting. She’s not listening.

He wants me, but only part of the time

She bites him.

He wants me, if he can keep me in line

He hits her so hard it cuts her cheek and knocks her over. Her mother is screaming.

Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry
Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry

She looks him in the eye. Her pupils expand.

Hush hush, shut up now, voices carry

A snake hisses.

Hush hush, keep it down now, voices carry

He turns without saying a word and smashes his head into the corner of the brick wall.

Hush hush, darling, she might overhear


Hush, hush - voices carry

And again.

He said shut up - he said shut up

And again.

Oh God can't you keep it down

Her mother is screaming. Crying.

Voices carry

She runs. She runs. She runs away.

Hush hush, voices carry

They find her in a rest station bathroom fifteen miles away, curled up under the sink like an animal.

I wish he would let me talk

Charles' heart aches for what she has to endure.

Twenty-Eight Years Later

An Abandoned Mobile Station
Somewhere off I-95

Ruins of Mamaroneck
New York

June 29th

5:17 pm

The floor is cold and dry. A warm wind blows through what was once a bathroom door. Vegetation grows in here, up through the cracks in the grout, around where the pipes rusted away, through broken windows and holes in the ceiling.

Kaylee Thatcher awakens to find herself curled up in the fetal position under a sink. Her upper lip and cheek are slick with blood, and there’s a small pool on the grimy tiles. Her feet are bare, covered in dirt, and her clothes are likewise filthy from crawling on the ground.

She doesn’t know how she got here.

Or where here is.

She just remembers

running away.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License