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There was a desperate part of Judith McKenna that longed to be rescued. It went against all her tough girl ideals and self sufficient reasoning but still it was there, bubbling beneath the surface of her emotions. She wanted to be saved. She wanted someone to pick her up help her stop sinking. Maybe this would have been easier if she let it show that she was drowning. But she wasn’t ready for that. There’d already been enough showing for Jude. Deirdre had already seen too much of what Jude wanted no one to ever see. There was a different girl underneath her skin and Jude wanted to tear her out. She wanted to cut through the flesh and peel out the weaker girl who hid and whimpered within. It was almost enough for her to understand the attitude of a cutter. Slicing through to freedom. But Jude wasn’t into that sort of thing. Razorblades held no attraction to her.
Jude had her own special form of self destruction and she was stupid enough, and numb enough, to walk right into it this morning.
Renee has tried to kill herself. Maybe she was dead by now. Jude didn’t care. Deirdre would be destroyed by that. Jude didn’t care. The drama, the arguing, the attacking. It all made her roll her eyes. She tried to give a damn about what was happening, about the people falling apart, but she just didn’t have it in her. She needed something to make her feel. Something to make her feel anything at all.
She still had her key to her parents house so there was no need to knock. All she could do was go inside and hope someone was home. She craved the thought of their anger- her father’s anger- like a drug. The sound of the door opening seemed louder than it should and she stepped inside. Everything about this place was familiar. She had lived in this house her entire life and there was a sense of coming home even though she didn’t live there anymore.
Her boots were silent on the foyer floor aside from a slight squeak in the left sole and she paused, listening for sounds of movement in the house. She heard nothing but didn’t know if that meant anything. With new purpose she strode out through the back of the house and pulled open the door to the garage, flicking on the light as she did so. Empty. Both cars gone. That meant they were both gone and Jude felt nothing but even more numbness and helplessness seeping into her. Her body was heavy with it and she leant back against the doorjamb without even the energy to sigh.
She was still in that position for what seemed like a long time before she could even think about shifting. There was no point. There was no point to anything. And Jude was sick of it. Jude was sick of living.
And it wasn’t quite jealously that reared its ugly head in her, but it was something close. Renee had done it. Jude spent so many waking hours thinking about it and never doing a thing while Renee has actually done it. She pulled herself up and pulled her thoughts away from that.
Her movements through her childhood home were slow. She travelled though the rooms feeling like some sort of ghost of the past. Her father’s office was mahogany lined and she drew her fingers across the smooth wood of the old desk. Paperwork was neatly scattered across and the large bolded word on one caught her eye. Divorce. Frowning further she lifted the paper and read it slowly. It had already been signed by the both of them. Irreconcilable differences. She looked at her parents signatures on those divorce papers and wasn’t sure what she was meant to feel. Because she felt nothing still. Letting the paper drop and float back down to the desk, she stood and crossed the room, running her fingers slowly along the book spines on the far wall. All familiar in their own way.
After the study it was another room. And after that another room. All quiet and tidy. All empty. All without purpose.
By late afternoon she had chosen to sit in the dining room like she used to do as a child. There was a spot where the sunlight would come though the glass at just the right angle to his the piano and make it look magical. She was too big now to hide under the piano properly like she used to, so she sat next to it instead. She’d been there for more than an hour, barely thinking anything at all when she heard the click of keys in the front door and then footsteps inside. She listened to them from where she was. Listened to them cross the foyer and then move up the stairs. Listened to them go across the landing and into, she assumed from where she sat, the library upstairs. Her father’s favourite spot in the house was the chair in that library.
Her movements were slow and she used the piano to help herself stand up. She imagined him sitting there are she walked up the stairs, each step slow. He would be sitting and watching out the window. He might have a book in his lap but it probably wouldn’t be open.
He noticed her straight away, of course. As soon as she was in view of his chair. His expression turned from confusion to surprise when he recognised her. “Judith.” He didn’t stand. He looked tired, Jude noticed. Exhausted.
“Hello father,” she said and her voice was tired as he looked.
He frowned at her but still he didn’t move. Then he turned his gaze out the window. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. It wasn’t quite the truth, but it would serve. He made no response to that and didn’t look at her again. Maybe he was as numb as she was. Perhaps they were both dead and sharing hell together.
Crossing the room slowly, she knelt on the floor before him and looked up at him without expression. He slowly met her eye but there was no emotion there for her. “What now?” she asked, voice devoid of any emotion.
He raised an eyebrow. “What now?” he repeated questioningly.
Jude nodded slightly. “Yes. What now. What am I meant to do?” What will make me alive again?
Her turned his face away from her and she saw his jaw tighten. She reached up from where she knelt with one almost tender hand and touched his cheek. “Father?” he turned slowly and, with trepidation, took her fingers in his hand and kissed them. Something in Jude stirred at that. It was affection in that movement of his. It was love. She could see that. He cared about her. The numbness was pushed down by an almost unfamiliar feeling: hope.
He let her fingers drop and stared out the window at the grey sky. “Go away, Judith.”
The hope cracked and melted and her face fell again. She wasn’t sure she could stand it. Hope almost there…love almost there…she couldn’t bare to lose what she didn’t even have. Things in her life felt bad, but this felt worse. She couldn’t comprehend- couldn’t lose- she just wanted to feel something. If Renee was the one who was dead then why the hell did Jude feel like it was her?
It was the coldness inside her that made her decision. She straightened up, making herself taller and leant forward and kissed the side of his lips that faced her. Her father made no move and she turned her head to kiss him properly, catching her father’s lips with her own. There was a slight shift from him and he pulled away, turning back to the window. “Judith, stop.” It was a definite command. A command that she ignored, feeling something akin to anger in her gut.
She moved forward and kissed him again, harder, and she flinched when he grabbed her shoulders and held her tight, suddenly kissing her back. His grip was tight and later she would find bruises there, but now it didn’t matter. He kissed her fiercely, his tongue pushing into her mouth. And she kissed him back, letting this wash over her. She understood this. It made her feel…everything. Hate, pain, sadness, confusion, understanding, acceptance, disgust, degradation. Every emotion that she had been lacking. And that was why she didn’t try to pull away when he began unbuttoning his pants, his legs clamping closed on her and pinning her where she was. And she just kept kissing him even when she felt the hot weight of his dick against her stomach. He was groaning into her mouth and then he twisted his fingers into her hand and grabbed her by the back of the head, pulling her back. And Jude knew what she was meant to do and would have done it without a word, but she knew it pleased him to force her. His dick in front of her face was already hard, arching up and waiting for her. And he pushed her head down hard, his grip painful, and Jude tried, in vain, to swallow it. She gagged as he began to thrust into her, not caring about how it felt for her, just fucking into her mouth hard and Jude let him do it. She suffered through it silently, not being able to move even if she wanted to. He held her head hard, using her like some toy. With a grunt he came and thrust deep into her throat. Jude felt the sticky mess in her throat and gagged further. He was still for a minute and Jude could hear him panting, his cock still in her mouth. Then he pulled out and pushed Jude away from, and she fell back violently and hit the wooden floor, staring up at him. Her father glared across at her and she couldn’t read that expression. “Get out,” he said coldly.
She couldn’t move. All the feelings rushing through her were almost too much and her numbness was no where to be found. She sat on the floor breathing hard and staring at him. His hands were shaking. Sitting on the floor, sickness overcoming her, Jude wondered if she and her father were really that different. The next time he spoke it verged on a desperate scream with shaking hands. “Get out!”
The shout shook her heavier than a blow and she stumbled to her feet, her body mostly refusing to obey her commands, and ran. Out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house and into the streets. She couldn’t stop running. Her boots pounded against the floor and she didn’t even know where she was going. Not home. Couldn’t be home. Not that other home. Somewhere else. Somehow she got to the university. It was more blind luck than destination but Jude felt grateful for it. She knew where to go now. She knew where she could aim. She knocked people down and pushed through groups with a single minded determination until she was banging on a dorm room door with her closed fist.
Morgan pulled the door open, her look of annoyance turning to concern when she saw Jude’s expression. Jude couldn’t even begin to imagine what she must look like.
“What happened to you?” Morgan asked, pulling the door further open so the younger girl could enter. She dropped the pen she was holding onto the table behind her and Jude felt sickness rising inside her. She didn’t answer Morgan’s question before pushing past and into the darker girl’s ensuite. She ignored the pain in her knees when they hit the tile floor and she leant her head over the toilet bowl and vomited. Morgan had moved in behind her and held her hair out of the way. “Have you been drinking?”
Jude shook her head when she was done being sick. She slipped back against the wall and closed her eyes. “No.” Horrible images were behind her eyelids though and so she opened them again.
Morgan had brought her a glass of water and passed it to Jude. “What’s wrong?” Jude drunk from the glass a little but it only made her feel more ill and she pushed it aside. Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, you don’t want to talk about it?”
Jude just nodded numbly, watching the tiles, and Morgan chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “You want to just lie down on my bed and rest?” Again Jude nodded. Morgan reached out to give her a hand to stand up and led Jude to her neatly made bed. Jude lay down and Morgan pulled a blanket over her. “I’m just going to go back to studying,” she told Jude, crouching next to the bed. “I’ve got a thermodynamics test in the morning. But if you need me I’m right here, okay?”
Jude nodded again and then closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see Morgan’s masked confusion. There was the sounds of shuffling as Morgan moved back to her desk and Jude could hear her music quietly. ...such a lonely day and it's mine, it's a day that I'm glad I survived...
To Jude's own surprise when she finally fell asleep she dreamt of nothing.
Jude had her own special form of self destruction and she was stupid enough, and numb enough, to walk right into it this morning.
Renee has tried to kill herself. Maybe she was dead by now. Jude didn’t care. Deirdre would be destroyed by that. Jude didn’t care. The drama, the arguing, the attacking. It all made her roll her eyes. She tried to give a damn about what was happening, about the people falling apart, but she just didn’t have it in her. She needed something to make her feel. Something to make her feel anything at all.
She still had her key to her parents house so there was no need to knock. All she could do was go inside and hope someone was home. She craved the thought of their anger- her father’s anger- like a drug. The sound of the door opening seemed louder than it should and she stepped inside. Everything about this place was familiar. She had lived in this house her entire life and there was a sense of coming home even though she didn’t live there anymore.
Her boots were silent on the foyer floor aside from a slight squeak in the left sole and she paused, listening for sounds of movement in the house. She heard nothing but didn’t know if that meant anything. With new purpose she strode out through the back of the house and pulled open the door to the garage, flicking on the light as she did so. Empty. Both cars gone. That meant they were both gone and Jude felt nothing but even more numbness and helplessness seeping into her. Her body was heavy with it and she leant back against the doorjamb without even the energy to sigh.
She was still in that position for what seemed like a long time before she could even think about shifting. There was no point. There was no point to anything. And Jude was sick of it. Jude was sick of living.
And it wasn’t quite jealously that reared its ugly head in her, but it was something close. Renee had done it. Jude spent so many waking hours thinking about it and never doing a thing while Renee has actually done it. She pulled herself up and pulled her thoughts away from that.
Her movements through her childhood home were slow. She travelled though the rooms feeling like some sort of ghost of the past. Her father’s office was mahogany lined and she drew her fingers across the smooth wood of the old desk. Paperwork was neatly scattered across and the large bolded word on one caught her eye. Divorce. Frowning further she lifted the paper and read it slowly. It had already been signed by the both of them. Irreconcilable differences. She looked at her parents signatures on those divorce papers and wasn’t sure what she was meant to feel. Because she felt nothing still. Letting the paper drop and float back down to the desk, she stood and crossed the room, running her fingers slowly along the book spines on the far wall. All familiar in their own way.
After the study it was another room. And after that another room. All quiet and tidy. All empty. All without purpose.
By late afternoon she had chosen to sit in the dining room like she used to do as a child. There was a spot where the sunlight would come though the glass at just the right angle to his the piano and make it look magical. She was too big now to hide under the piano properly like she used to, so she sat next to it instead. She’d been there for more than an hour, barely thinking anything at all when she heard the click of keys in the front door and then footsteps inside. She listened to them from where she was. Listened to them cross the foyer and then move up the stairs. Listened to them go across the landing and into, she assumed from where she sat, the library upstairs. Her father’s favourite spot in the house was the chair in that library.
Her movements were slow and she used the piano to help herself stand up. She imagined him sitting there are she walked up the stairs, each step slow. He would be sitting and watching out the window. He might have a book in his lap but it probably wouldn’t be open.
He noticed her straight away, of course. As soon as she was in view of his chair. His expression turned from confusion to surprise when he recognised her. “Judith.” He didn’t stand. He looked tired, Jude noticed. Exhausted.
“Hello father,” she said and her voice was tired as he looked.
He frowned at her but still he didn’t move. Then he turned his gaze out the window. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. It wasn’t quite the truth, but it would serve. He made no response to that and didn’t look at her again. Maybe he was as numb as she was. Perhaps they were both dead and sharing hell together.
Crossing the room slowly, she knelt on the floor before him and looked up at him without expression. He slowly met her eye but there was no emotion there for her. “What now?” she asked, voice devoid of any emotion.
He raised an eyebrow. “What now?” he repeated questioningly.
Jude nodded slightly. “Yes. What now. What am I meant to do?” What will make me alive again?
Her turned his face away from her and she saw his jaw tighten. She reached up from where she knelt with one almost tender hand and touched his cheek. “Father?” he turned slowly and, with trepidation, took her fingers in his hand and kissed them. Something in Jude stirred at that. It was affection in that movement of his. It was love. She could see that. He cared about her. The numbness was pushed down by an almost unfamiliar feeling: hope.
He let her fingers drop and stared out the window at the grey sky. “Go away, Judith.”
The hope cracked and melted and her face fell again. She wasn’t sure she could stand it. Hope almost there…love almost there…she couldn’t bare to lose what she didn’t even have. Things in her life felt bad, but this felt worse. She couldn’t comprehend- couldn’t lose- she just wanted to feel something. If Renee was the one who was dead then why the hell did Jude feel like it was her?
It was the coldness inside her that made her decision. She straightened up, making herself taller and leant forward and kissed the side of his lips that faced her. Her father made no move and she turned her head to kiss him properly, catching her father’s lips with her own. There was a slight shift from him and he pulled away, turning back to the window. “Judith, stop.” It was a definite command. A command that she ignored, feeling something akin to anger in her gut.
She moved forward and kissed him again, harder, and she flinched when he grabbed her shoulders and held her tight, suddenly kissing her back. His grip was tight and later she would find bruises there, but now it didn’t matter. He kissed her fiercely, his tongue pushing into her mouth. And she kissed him back, letting this wash over her. She understood this. It made her feel…everything. Hate, pain, sadness, confusion, understanding, acceptance, disgust, degradation. Every emotion that she had been lacking. And that was why she didn’t try to pull away when he began unbuttoning his pants, his legs clamping closed on her and pinning her where she was. And she just kept kissing him even when she felt the hot weight of his dick against her stomach. He was groaning into her mouth and then he twisted his fingers into her hand and grabbed her by the back of the head, pulling her back. And Jude knew what she was meant to do and would have done it without a word, but she knew it pleased him to force her. His dick in front of her face was already hard, arching up and waiting for her. And he pushed her head down hard, his grip painful, and Jude tried, in vain, to swallow it. She gagged as he began to thrust into her, not caring about how it felt for her, just fucking into her mouth hard and Jude let him do it. She suffered through it silently, not being able to move even if she wanted to. He held her head hard, using her like some toy. With a grunt he came and thrust deep into her throat. Jude felt the sticky mess in her throat and gagged further. He was still for a minute and Jude could hear him panting, his cock still in her mouth. Then he pulled out and pushed Jude away from, and she fell back violently and hit the wooden floor, staring up at him. Her father glared across at her and she couldn’t read that expression. “Get out,” he said coldly.
She couldn’t move. All the feelings rushing through her were almost too much and her numbness was no where to be found. She sat on the floor breathing hard and staring at him. His hands were shaking. Sitting on the floor, sickness overcoming her, Jude wondered if she and her father were really that different. The next time he spoke it verged on a desperate scream with shaking hands. “Get out!”
The shout shook her heavier than a blow and she stumbled to her feet, her body mostly refusing to obey her commands, and ran. Out of the room, down the stairs, out of the house and into the streets. She couldn’t stop running. Her boots pounded against the floor and she didn’t even know where she was going. Not home. Couldn’t be home. Not that other home. Somewhere else. Somehow she got to the university. It was more blind luck than destination but Jude felt grateful for it. She knew where to go now. She knew where she could aim. She knocked people down and pushed through groups with a single minded determination until she was banging on a dorm room door with her closed fist.
Morgan pulled the door open, her look of annoyance turning to concern when she saw Jude’s expression. Jude couldn’t even begin to imagine what she must look like.
“What happened to you?” Morgan asked, pulling the door further open so the younger girl could enter. She dropped the pen she was holding onto the table behind her and Jude felt sickness rising inside her. She didn’t answer Morgan’s question before pushing past and into the darker girl’s ensuite. She ignored the pain in her knees when they hit the tile floor and she leant her head over the toilet bowl and vomited. Morgan had moved in behind her and held her hair out of the way. “Have you been drinking?”
Jude shook her head when she was done being sick. She slipped back against the wall and closed her eyes. “No.” Horrible images were behind her eyelids though and so she opened them again.
Morgan had brought her a glass of water and passed it to Jude. “What’s wrong?” Jude drunk from the glass a little but it only made her feel more ill and she pushed it aside. Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Let me guess, you don’t want to talk about it?”
Jude just nodded numbly, watching the tiles, and Morgan chewed on her lip thoughtfully. “You want to just lie down on my bed and rest?” Again Jude nodded. Morgan reached out to give her a hand to stand up and led Jude to her neatly made bed. Jude lay down and Morgan pulled a blanket over her. “I’m just going to go back to studying,” she told Jude, crouching next to the bed. “I’ve got a thermodynamics test in the morning. But if you need me I’m right here, okay?”
Jude nodded again and then closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see Morgan’s masked confusion. There was the sounds of shuffling as Morgan moved back to her desk and Jude could hear her music quietly. ...such a lonely day and it's mine, it's a day that I'm glad I survived...
To Jude's own surprise when she finally fell asleep she dreamt of nothing.
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