For The Inspired

Was

They looked around the old attic, and Sadie couldn't help but wonder what had once been. Who had lived here, who had stored their junk up here, who had made this house their home? The question was too big for her to wrap her head around, so she stopped thinking about it. It was like wondering what the purpose of life was; she'd never find the answer, and was only wasting her time trying to find out.

Frankie had found something in one of the boxes up ahead, a book of some kind. He blew the dust off the top, and she watched as the particles hung suspended in a beam of afternoon sun for a moment, before slowly floating to the ground. He opened up the book, and started showing her some pictures. 

A family, a child, children playing together; it seemed like an ordinary family. But something was off with each picture, and Sadie got a chill each time she looked at a new one. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something bad had happened. Frankie went back to rummaging through the boxes, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the photos.

Then she noticed it, small at first, growing in size and number in each shot; the bruises. Peppered on the arms, legs, and even occasionally faces, this family was always covered in bruises. They had tried to cover them with their long sleeves and trousers, but they were clear as day when you knew to look for them. There was only one family member without any.

The mum.

Sadie leafed through the pictures faster now, noticing the bruises get larger and more painful-looking with each page. Then, unable to bear it, she slammed the dense book shut. Frankie looked up in surprise, and the dust swirled around her frantically, but she didn't notice. A single picture had fallen out.

It had clearly been taken in secret; clothes and fingers framed the subject. But it was unmistakeable what the photo was showing: a bruised and battered child, lying in a hospital bed. If you looked even closer, much to Sadie's horror, you could even see their heart monitor flatlining.

A tear rolled down her cheek silently, unannounced. She cried for this family that was treated so poorly, she cried for the family that probably never found justice, she cried for the family that was.