Eyes Wide Shut

Chapter 21

Mollie’s POV

            “Frankie! Frankie!” I say, giving slap taps to her face to check her consciousness.

            I tilt her head up so I can see her. Her eyes roll forward and she looks at me. Her eyes speaking to me, she’s trying to be tough, but I can tell from her trembling body that she is traumatized.

            What do I do? Do something, Mollie.

            “I’m gonna get help, Frankie. Just-”

            “No…” She breathes, using every fiber of energy in her body to let the words leave her lips.

            She’s shaking her head, her eyes close shut, like it’s all too much.

            “Babe, you’re hurt-”

            “No…” She catches her breath, “No police. No ambulance,” she says confidently, her head slowly falling back against the wall.

            How can I argue against her? I can’t do anything but nod and I feel the tears continuing to fall down my face. I sniffle them back, wiping my fingers under my eyes.

            “O-okay. Okay,” still unsure how to handle the situation. And my eyes make contact with the damage on her face one more.

            Oh my god… I’m going to be sick. I crawl over to her so she can lie on me, and she yelps with pain. I gently tug at her sweatpants, to search the rest of the damage. I can feel her head shaking against me, fighting me.

            “Don’t,” she whimpers, but I ignore her and continue to pull her sweats down.

            Bruises scatter across her thighs, the purple blotches arising under the pink and red welts.

            “Who-who did this to you?” I cry, my voice straddling both anger and sadness.

            She doesn’t answer. Tears leak from her eyes and she’s begging me not to continue, but I ignore her.

         I lift her tank top to find more marks on her stomach. I shake my head in disbelief. I don’t even know how she is alive.

            “Frankie…” and I’m trying my best not to burst out into sobs.

            Stay strong. Stay strong. Be strong.

            And I’m trying. Desperately trying not to break down at any second. She coughs, crying out in pain with each movement. I nod to myself. Knowing that I needed to pull myself together.

            “We need to get you in the shower and clean you up-” I gently motion myself upwards, trying to carry her with me. And I’m rambling, trying my best to focus on the task at hand and not on her frail, injured body.

            “Mollie…” she whispers. I blink back the tears and take a deep breath.

            “Come on, babe,” and I hook my arm underneath her armpits, lifting her slighting and dragging her towards the staircase. She crying slightly, wincing with each movement. She doesn’t want to break down, but she’s halfway there. My heart is breaking all over again. All of her weight rests on me as I carry her up the stairs.

            I set her against the bathroom wall as I leave for a slight second to turn on the water. I take off her top ever so gently and then proceed to discard the rest of her clothes. The slightest movements cause her the most incredible pain. The sight is unbearable.