They curl up in the corner, backs pressing up against unforgiving walls that smell like rot and peeling paint and regret. They bite fingernails, cover eyes, bury dirt-smudged hands into lank hair. Elbows and knees knock together, brittle and thin. They pile together with the shadows.
We should run. No, we should hide. No, they’ve got us already, they’ve come, they’ve come. Shh.
The door lies open, uncared for, gaping like the maw of a beast. They watch, warily, three pairs of eyes staring out into the void. Somewhere, a light flashes on and the shadows dance like madmen, like uncontrollable flames. A bang, a clang, a shatter. The light shudders and dies. Somewhere, a siren starts howling.
The world is damp and quiet. They scrunch themselves down harder, sweat and stink compressed together into a knot of limbs and stuttering chests. One breath. They close their eyes. Somewhere, a voice is crying.
Everything screams. The lights fly on and burn, the floor creaks, the door crashes into the wall. No, no, someone says. Shut up! The smack of skin on skin, slick and sloppy and sickening. A slap, a slam, a pounding. Pound, pound, pound, hearts in chests, legs on the ground, torn away, arms wound and violent and grips tight, tight around like a snake.
Let go, let go! Two breaths. We can’t run. They burrow back into place, don’t look, don’t look, there’s nothing there, nothing, nothing. Pound, pound, pound, like a war drum, like a rushing wave, sweep us away, away.
Shh. Shh. Listen, somewhere, an angel is singing.
Somewhere, there is a woman who enters her house, who finds her children laughing, curled up under one large blanket. Somewhere, there is a man who returns to his husband and they live and breathe and raise a family in peace. Somewhere, there is a family where every member is loved and cherished, even through their faults and differences, even as the children grow and distort out of childhood roles, even as the parents argue, even as they fall apart like a well-worn scarf.
And somewhere, a woman cries, a man sinks into sorrow. A person dissolves into drink, another is felled by pills and powder. Somewhere, someone tries his best to die and drag everyone into hell with him. Somewhere, someone wastes away in monotony, hopes and dreams stripped away like so much peeling paint.
And still somewhere, three children hide their faces and huddle together, turned away from the remains of a battle strewn across the floor, the scraps of this massacre, this death of a perfect imperfection. Somewhere, there is a man who loved a woman and a woman who loved a man and the bloody-red twisted ending of their twice accursed tale. Somewhere, there is a destitute, yet happy family with a mother and a father and three beautiful children, all different shades of earth. Somewhere, there is a future and a new story, a better one to tell. Somewhere, a door lies open, uncared for, gaping like the maw of a beast.