The Hanging Noose

Thirty-Three

Dottie wakes up to the sunlight fluttering in to the room. She looks around, seeing the pristine room. She looks around for her suitcase, for any sign that it's her room, yet she finds none. She looks down at the bed, spotting a body. Beside her is a sleeping Isiah, who's snoring loudly on his back.

Dottie sits up, wiping her eyes. She looks down at the floor seeing the mess of clothes situating around the bed. She groans before deciding to elbow Isiah's ribs, waking him up almost immediately with a whine.

"Fuck off," he grumbles, trying to roll over.

"Isiah. Isiah!" Dottie says pushing her finger hard in to his ribs.

He opens his eyes. Slowly. His dark eyes landing on Dottie's body.

"Oi, wanker. My eyes are up here." Dottie complains, hugging the quilt around her body.

He rolls his eyes, looking at her face, almost admiring every mark on her face.

"We had sex, Isiah," Dottie says calmly as he rolls over, sitting up with his back against the headboard.

He nods. "Yes, we did."

"No you don't get it. We had sex, Isiah. You're Micheal's best mate, oh fuck... oh what have I done?" She wipes her face, groaning as her head thumps. "My mums going to go mental."

Isiah watches as Dottie stares down at her lap. She jolts when he places his hand on her spine.
"It's fine, Dottie. You're a grown adult—"

Dottie whips her head round, "exactly! I'm an adult with a child! Who I practically abandoned last night... oh Jesus."

"I thought Esme was looking after your girl," Isiah comments, frowning slightly.

"Well obviously, but still, I've got a banging headache, I've fucked my brothers best mate, I did cocaine last night..."

"It's fine—"

Dottie shakes her head, "it's not fine. I've been two years clean of cocaine... I've just ruined that!" She wails, pulling her legs up to her chest. She wipes her eyes.
"For fuck sake!" She lifts her fist up, thumping her head. "You're so fucking stupid, Dottie! For fuck sake! Can't you stay sober?"

Isiah is quick to jump up. He grasps hold of her, pulling her down on to his chest and holding her wrists with one of his hands.
"It's okay, Dottie," he whispers, "it's okay. I promise you, it's okay."

Dottie pulls her wrists, trying to get herself free. "Fuck off, Reggie! Fuck off! Please!"

Isiah immediately releases her wrists as soon as he hears Reggie's name fall from her lips. He looks down at her, seeing the tears streak down her face. She's quick to find a way out from the bed, she runs to the corner, her pupils dilated as she falls down to the floor.

Isiah follows her, stopping at the end of the bed to get his underwear on. He slowly then steps over to Dottie, holding his hands up.
"It's okay, I'm not Reggie, it's okay—"

Dottie looks at Isiah, her eyes wide. She pushes her hands up to her head, "fuck off! Get out of my head! Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off! Please!" She screams, "I'm sorry! Fuck off Reggie!"

Isiah falls to his knees when he sees Dottie's fists pummelling in to her head. He grasps her fist, sitting beside her and wrapping an arm around her. He pushes her in to his chest.

"It's okay, he's not here," Isiah continues to say, stroking her head as she cries. "It's okay, I promise he's not here. He won't hurt you."

She continues to wail, trying to free her wrists.

"It's okay, Dottie, it's okay. I promise."

"Get off me! Please, Reggie! I'm-I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry."

Isiah holds on to her tight as Dottie tries to pull her wrists away. He holds his arms around her, trying to quieten her down on her panic state. It's only when the door flings open that he jumps away, leaving the girl scattered in the corner.

"What the fuck has happened?"

Polly. Polly Gray. Beautiful Polly Gray.

Isiah itches his scalp. "I don't know, I was trying to comfort her."

Polly rushes in to the room, looking round the bed to see Dottie naked and cowering in the corner of the room.

"What the fuck did you do to my girl?" She demands, strutting round to where Dottie sits with her legs up to her chest and her face stained with tears.

Micheal is behind Polly, running in and going straight to Isiah. He grabs him, throwing him in to the wall. He holds him up by his neck as Polly falls to her knees in front of Dottie. She grasps hold of her face, seeing Dottie's bloodshot eyes.

"It's okay, my darling, it's okay," Polly says quietly, "Mum's here now, it's okay, no one's going to hurt you."

"Reggie..."

"Dottie girl," Polly says in a quiet and soft voice, "Reggie's dead, he's not going to hurt you anymore, my love—"

Dottie grabs hold of Polly's wrists in a tight grip. "He's in my head, mama! He's in my head! Get him out! Please! I can't do this anymore! Get him out! Please!"

"It's just your mind playing tricks on you, darling, okay? You're safe, he can't hurt you. You're safe!"

Micheal throws Isiah's back against the wall. "You slept with my sister?"

"It was consensual," Isiah says, looking at Micheal, "I wouldn't have done anything if she didn't want to—" he coughs as Micheal's glare deepens. "I wouldn't do that to her!"

"Then what the fuck has happened since? Eh?"

Dottie stares at Polly, her eyes huge and dilated. Polly's eyes scan over Dottie's face before she pulls her in to her arms, kissing her forehead and wrapping her arms around her. She leans over, grasping hold of a blanket underneath the bed. She wraps it around the freezing girl, keeping her close.

"She panicked, kept saying fuck off Reggie and that she's sorry." Isiah says as Micheal drops him, "I don't know what happened, what changed."

Micheal looks over at Dottie before looking back at Isiah. "You know she shot him, don't you?"

Isiah nods as Micheal runs his hands over his face. He looks back at Dottie, who's in Polly's lap, curled up in a thick blanket as if she's a baby. Polly rocks her, whispering in to her ear.

"I don't know what to do," Micheal reveals, looking back at Isiah. "I don't know how to help her." His voice cracks.