Wynona

Prompt: On A Starry Starry Night: Tell what has happened or takes place on a starry starry night.

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         The door slammed like thunder behind her as she ran up the flight of stairs. Her bare feet pounded the worn carpet, toes striking the topmost stair causing her to fall flat on her face with a low grunt.

         She barely felt the pain.

         It was nothing compared to the swollen left cheek and eye that was almost closed from the hard slap she had received in the car. The flare of pain experienced from the twisting of her arm had now become a dull throb, and as she staggered to her feet, her breath came out in harsh gasps sounding like a steam engine on its last legs.

         The front door slammed again and she fought back a low cry of dismay.

         "You get back here, you stupid cow!" came the bellow of rage. "You get down here before I get you, Wynona!"

         No more, her mind screamed. No more! No more!

         She locked herself in her room, dashed to the closet and pulled down the small but cheap carry-all bag she had gotten from a garage sale a week ago. Clothes were shoved haphazardly into it, not really caring what she put in there. She had saved only a few dollars from the allowance she received on the 'good' days. It wasn't much, but she was determined to make do with it. She didn't care where she went as long as she was anywhere but here. She glanced around her quickly, taking in the room that was small, claustrophobic and exceptionally neat. It was one of the few things he had insisted she do - being as clean as possible when she was nothing but filthy inside. Just remembering the many nights he had stumbled into her room drunk as a skunk, lust in his eyes –

         "Open this door!"

         There was a bang, the heavy thud of his shoulder being pushed with his brute strength, and the low whine of the wood protesting at the abuse it was receiving. Her panic caused her to wheeze, her chest tightening with each breath she took. She wasn't going to make it. He was going to get her and punish her severely. She didn't even want to imagine what it would be like this time around. She might not even survive.

         "OPEN THE DOOR, WYNONA!! I'LL GET YOU! I SWEAR IT, YOU STUPID...!"

         With feet that felt extremely slow and heavy, she ran towards the window to shove it upwards, the cold biting night air slapping her with such ferocity. The door behind her caved in again and that was enough of an incentive to get her moving. She tossed the bag out of the window, and praying that she wouldn't land on anything painful, she leapt out blindly. The grass was cool and damp beneath her aching feet, her knees suffering a minor scrape as she bumped into his lawn mower.

         Rising to her feet, she caught the strap of her bag, only to cry out in pain as something hard struck the back of her head. She turned around to notice it was one of her shoes, and looking up, she could see her father leaning out of her window, a thunderous expression on his features.

         "You get back here, Wynona! You get back here or I'll – "

         "No!" she roared, amazed at the sound of her voice being torn from the constrictive tunnel of her throat. It felt strong. She felt strong. From her vantage point, she felt powerful enough to say what she wanted and to do what she wanted. Since her mother's passing six months ago, it had been hell on earth living with her father – a man who was quick with the hand and a friend to the bottle. Her nights were spent in fear and terror, wondering when he'd walk into her room to take her against her will. She was forced to walk into school each day with bruises hidden under the long sleeves of her uniform, trying not to limp from the punishment of the night before; forced to suffer the pitying or mocking looks that came her way from classmates. She was the freak, the one with the stringy dirty blonde hair that was rarely washed, the one who smelled like stale cheese and wet paper. She was the one who never spoke in class and preferred to blend in with the textbooks along the wall, content to daydream or catch a few winks when she could.

         She had no friends. She wanted no friends. All they did was laugh and whisper behind her back, making her feel worthless and insignificant.

         "I'm not coming back," she yelled, ignoring the sound of neighbors' doors opening to see what new drama was unfolding in the McKenzie household. "You hear me! I'm not coming back, you bastard!"

         "Wynona!!" He made an attempt to leap out the window, thought about it and turned on his heels to make his way downstairs. She wasn't waiting around for him to accomplish this. She knew how fast he was. Several desperate attempts to escape in the past had been fruitless.

         Spinning on her heels, she ran across the lawn and into Baker's street, the cool asphalt against her feet like an aphrodisiac to her sudden adrenaline rush. She could smell rain in the air, and a quick glance at the heavens, showed a starry night – millions of them shimmering as if heralding her final victory. Crossing Winder and hearing the sound of traffic made her giddy with euphoria. Her attempts to run away before were always halted at the end of Baker's street. Her shame and humiliation at being caught and dragged by her hair back to that house was diminished at that simple sign.

         Winder.

         Suddenly she felt the low bubble of hysteria within the pit of her stomach, the light-headed sensation of happiness and relief. A low giggle escaped her lips at first, but eventually it was full blown laughter, the happy sound of a young girl finally coming to terms with a gift that had long been denied.

         She barely heard the cry of 'Hey, watch out!', neither did she feel the impact of the bus as it collided into her body sending her flying across the busy intersection like a rag doll. As she fell back to earth, she could only give a small sigh, the smile still frozen on her lips. The stars continued to twinkle brightly as if cheering her on, the growing crowd around her twisted body barely registering in her fading consciousness. She felt sure she could hear a voice calling her name.

         "Wynona! My baby girl! Wynona!" it said over and over again as the faint image of a blonde five-year old with curls running into her parents' waiting arms caused pea-shaped tears to escape her eyes.

         It was a memory gained but soon lost beneath that beautiful starry night sky.