The Girl I Left Behind by LE Hill

Author:LE Hill [Hill, LE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tide End Press
Published: 2020-07-10T16:00:00+00:00

42

Past

I sat on a bench beside the tall oak tree in the large, landscaped gardens. The paint was peeling away and it was splattered in bird poo, but at least it was quiet there and I was alone. The cold air bit at my cheeks, even though it was supposed to be summer, and the clouds were heavy with rain. When I felt the spits of water land on my head, I pulled up my hood. I didn’t move. I wanted to stay sitting there forever. Even when the rain became torrential, I stayed there, watching it bounce off the concrete slabs of the path. The water ran down my forehead and my nose, and I wiped my face with the back of my hand. I heard a voice calling me, but I didn’t turn to see who it was. I knew it was Patricia. I could hear her bangles clacking. She sat down on the bench next to me and I sighed. She didn’t speak, just sat alongside me and waited. And she waited. I was getting a bit cold now, and soggy. I stood up with a shiver and she put her hand on my arm. I flinched, brushing it away. I gestured with my head towards the door. I walked away from the tree, my shelter for the past hour or so, and went towards the large Victorian house which had been my home for the past two weeks. Patricia followed me and, when we got inside, she pulled off her coat and helped me off with mine.

‘Shall we go and get dried off?’ she suggested, her voice firm. ‘Then we can have a nice hot drink.’

She wasn’t asking, she was telling. I could already hear the questions she was going to ask me. ‘You can tell me how you felt about sitting outside in the rain beside the tree. How did it make you feel, Sophie? How are you feeling now, Sophie? Is there anything that makes you feel sad, Sophie?’ And I knew I would shake my head again and again and reply no. For … what would she say if I told her the truth? She would shake her head in disbelief. She would surely call me a liar. For that’s what I must be. It was my fault. I was imagining everything. I was a liar and I was mad. Just like my dad. It even said so in the notes. I trudged upstairs to my room, changed into a dry pair of jeans and sweater, and towel-dried my hair. I caught my reflection in the mirror and saw someone else staring back. It wasn’t me. The girl looking back had hollow eyes, pale skin and limp hair. That was not the me I remembered. I remembered the old Sophie. The Sophie from before. From before it all began.

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