Stuart James - Apartment 6

The room was darkened, the curtains drawn. Meagan placed the items on the bedside unit and then went back to the door. As her eyes adjusted, she saw the empty bed.

Meagan called out, ‘Rob, I’ve made food. I’ve left it by the bed.’

As she turned, his large figure was standing behind her, close to the door.

‘Jesus, Rob. You scared the life out of me. I’ve left your fo–’

He grabbed her around the throat, squeezing so hard Meagan thought she’d pass out. With his other hand, he pulled her hair, ripping her head backwards.

‘Rob. Stop, what’s got into you?’

‘I lost the fucking contract. The buyer pulled out.’

She struggled to talk, to make any sound. Meagan was gagging, pulling desperately at her husband’s arms, trying to get free.

Once he’d loosened his grip, she managed to talk. ‘Okay, it’s not the end of the world. There’ll be others. Rob, please, you’re choking me.’

He let go, moving forward, ripping her blouse open. Buttons fell on the ground, bouncing on the wooden floor.

‘Rob, not now. Don’t do this.’

‘Shut your fucking mouth. If you speak again, so help me.’ He grabbed her by the waist, throwing her on the bed, removing his belt and dropping his trousers.

Meagan struggled, reaching for the side of the bed, desperately trying to escape. Rob pulled her by her legs. One of her shoes came away and he stumbled back. She kicked out, catching the side of his face. He instantly clasped his cheek. ‘Don’t make this difficult, you fucking bitch.’

He jumped on the bed, trousers hanging by his ankles, and punched the side of Meagan’s face, forcing her down. His eyes were wild, saliva dripping from his mouth. Rob held her neck with one hand, slapping her face with the other. He reached her skirt, pulling hard, breaking the zip and trying to pull it down her legs.

Meagan was desperate. There’s no way this is happening. The week had been amazing. One of the best of my life. How had it come to this?

She was convinced he’d changed. Her husband was a good man. The best.

This can’t be happening. No, please. I thought he’d changed. He told me he loved me.

As Rob removed Meagan’s skirt, she lay in her knickers, struggling to turn. Suddenly, she mustered the strength, kneeing him hard in the groin. It was like a brick dropping from the second floor to the ground below. Bang. She shocked herself with the strength she’d gathered. Rob screamed out, and he spasmed, holding himself. Meagan jumped off the bed, racing towards the bedroom door, slamming it behind her and charging down the stairs.

She reached the front door, desperately pulling the security chain, watching it drop. As she pulled the handle, Rob was standing at the top of the stairs. ‘Meagan. I’m coming for you, do you hear? There’s no escape. I’ve told you time and time again. You can’t leave; I’ll never allow it.’

She heard him wince. Meagan dropped to her knees with fright and exhaustion. Her body was weak, but she had to summon the strength to hide, to get away from him.

Now on the floor, she crawled on her hands and knees, trying to stem the fear, the panic in her breaths, the desperation to get away from this man, her husband, her so-called life companion who should care for her and protect her.

She reached the store cupboard under the stairs, managing to hoist herself upwards, pulling the handle and crawling behind a wooden rack. The light came on, and as she moved to the back of the small room, the door closed, terminating the brightness.

She stayed crouched down, hiding, concealing herself from the brute she was married to. This was it. Enough. Whatever it took, Meagan was leaving.

Lying on the cold floor, curled up like a scared child, she was suddenly reminded of the past, her poor mother and the years of abuse she had taken at the hands of Meagan’s father. She started having flashbacks; the time she found her mother locked in a box at the bottom of a cave, the terrible beatings she had witnessed as a child, the night her father came for both of them while they stayed at Aunty Anne’s. The events that followed.

Meagan tried to push the thoughts away, but they were there; so real, even now, after all these years. That horrible night when her father brought the two of them back home. How could she ever forget?

Meagan jumped as she heard Rob screaming her name, pacing up and down the hallway, then going out, the front door slamming behind him.

She dipped into the pocket of her ripped blouse, pleased to find her mobile was still there, then messaged the only person she knew would help.

‘Daddy, are you angry? Me and Mummy picked a good place to hide. I knew you’d find us. I’m so pleased. Aunty Anne is pretty, isn’t she? She looks like a princess. Aunty Anne and Mummy talk lots. We had fun. I made doughnuts. I’ll make them when we go home if you like?’

Muffled screams were coming from behind them. Meagan sat in the back, trying to lift the seat of her father’s car to see what her mother was doing in the boot. Her father was sweating, his cheeks flushed. He was driving faster than usual, talking to himself. Meagan leant forward, trying to hear what he was saying.

‘Daddy, why is Mummy in the boot?’ Meagan leant back, listening to the panic in her mother’s voice. She’d never heard these sounds before. Yes, she’d listened to her mother crying frequently, shouting out, even the odd swear word, but this was a deathly squeal, a noise Meagan would never forget.

‘Daddy, please let Mummy out.’

Her father turned, watching his daughter. ‘Meagan, keep quiet. This is adult stuff which you don’t understand, okay? I’m teaching Mummy a lesson for running away. This is how she learns.’

He turned back, narrowly missing a lorry on the other side of the road. He swerved, causing Meagan to grip the seat rest.

‘But she didn’t.’

‘Didn’t what, Meagan?’

Meagan looked out the window, then checked under the seat, hoping she could hold her mother’s hand. ‘Mummy didn’t run away. She was hiding, at Aunty Anne’s. We both were, Daddy, but you found us. I thought you wouldn’t find Mummy and me, but you did.’

Sean kept quiet and concentrated on the road ahead. Rain had started spilling on the windscreen. He wiped the glass ferociously with the back of his hand, leaning forward to see more clearly. The whimpering cries from his wife caused his head to ache as he gripped the steering wheel harder, trying to ease his stress.

Meagan had been quiet in the back of the car, too worried to speak, distressed about her mother and wanting to find a way into the boot.

She glanced down at Arthur, making sure he was comfortable, whispering in his ear and telling him she loved him. She was pleased that her father hadn’t put him in the boot as well. She couldn’t have coped without her toy for comfort.

Meagan had fallen asleep. She woke as her father steered the car into their drive, rolling the vehicle towards the front wall of the house.

Sean opened the door for his daughter then went to the house.

‘Daddy, let Mummy out now.’ Meagan was stomping her right foot on the ground, Arthur in her left hand.

Sean fiddled with the key, opened the front door and beckoned Meagan inside.

She slowly moved past him, nervous about his demeanour, checking his face to see a sign that her father was relenting, his mood loosening. She saw little to confirm this.

Once inside, Meagan went up the stairs, into her father’s bedroom and watched through the window. She saw her father open the boot and pull her mother out. Tricia was kicking and screaming. He placed his hand over her mouth, frantically moving his head left and right, making sure no one could see him.