From the outside Juliet Kingston seems to have the perfect life. She has popularity, beauty and a famous dad who seemingly spoils her rotten. But nobody is aware of what happens behind closed doors.
After spending years at the mercy of her abusive f...
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"Juliet," I repeat much louder this time, rushing to her side. "Juliet look at me," I urge, kneeling in front of her shaking frame.
She doesn't respond, her head still buried in her arms as she cries hysterically. "You need to calm down," I tell her, softly lifting up her chin so we're eye to eye. Her blood shot eyes look back at me, tears flowing down her face as an expression of utter misery adorns her features.
"Alright, come on," I encourage while grabbing her arms, being careful not to touch the thin bleeding lines. I pull her onto her feet, holding onto her as she sways unsteadily. "Here," I say, leading her to the tall counter before lifting her up and sitting her on it.
Her wrist's excessive bleeding is scaring the shit out of me but I attempt to remain composed, not wanting to cause her anymore distress. "You got any medical supplies in here?" I ask calmly, trying to hide the urgency in my voice as I search under the sink.
She doesn't reply, only continuing to stare at the blood leaking down her hands. After riffling through all her belongings I finally find a first aid kit, pulling out some bandages and some antiseptic wipes.
"It's alright I'm almost done," I reassure after she let's out a small whimper when the wipe stings her cuts.
As I'm bandaging her up I want to ask her why, why she felt the need to do this. When I left her she was fine and fast asleep and now she looks utterly drained and defeated. What happened in the past half an hour to cause such a shift?
Her crying has ceased but she still doesn't look alright, a now blank expression forming across her face as she looks at me.
"I'm going to get you to bed," I sigh, helping her off the counter and ushering her out of the bathroom all while trying to avoid the splatters of blood across the tiles.
I lead her to her bed, stepping over piles of clothes as I do so. Doesn't this family have like a million maids, why is her's the only room in this house that isn't perfectly cleaned?
I pull the covers over her before sighing and turning to exit, still completely baffled how my day ended up this way.
When I open the door to leave I do a double take, turning around to look at her. Her eyes are wide open as she silently stares up at the ceiling, her body surrounded by snack wrappers and the rubbish littering her room.
I'm conflicted. I want to help her but I don't know how.
As I look at Juliet memories of my sister flash through my mind. My older sister always struggled with her mental health, it got worse and worse until eventually she was just a shell of a person who did nothing but lie in her room with the curtains drawn and the lights off.
I feel the same sense of hopeless now as I did with her, I've never been good at comforting people or being nice in general so I'm scared if I say anything to Juliet it'll be the wrong thing.
Thankfully, my sister eventually got better and years later she confided in me that one of the hardest parts of that period of her life was isolating herself in that dingy room and having to wake up everyday surrounded by mess and having no motivation to clean it up.
I curse under my breath before closing the door in front of me and walking back into Juliet's bathroom, remembering how I saw cleaning supplies under the sink.
Firstly I use some disinfectant spray to clean up the blood on the floor before wiping down the counter. Then I grab a couple trash bags and go through Juliet's room picking up all the rubbish before carrying all her dirty clothes to the various laundry baskets scattered around her huge room.
The whole time Juliet's back if facing me as her body is curled up towards the wall. She's utterly silent and unmoving so I assume she must have tired herself out and fell asleep.
Happy that I made this place actually liveable, I turn off the lamp resting on her nightstand and place her phone next to it before heading towards the door.
"Thank you," She whispers, cutting through the silent room.
I turn and see that she's now looking at me, her head still resting on the pillow. I silently nod at her before closing the door and walking out the house, ignoring the group of drunks in the kitchen.
I approach my car and groan when I see that the light is still on, knowing it probably drained the battery. My fingers are mentally crossed as I start the car up, not wanting to have to wake up and ask Juliet to help me if it is out of battery.
I let out a sigh of relief when the sound of the engine rumbles before leaning over and closing my door. I don't immediately take off though, my brain reeling with images of what I just witnessed.
"Fucking hell," I mumble to myself, running a stressed hand through my hair before lighting up a cig and taking off down the drive.
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