It hadn’t occurred to her at first, the reason for Max’ incessant need for the house to remain clean, to remain pristine. But now that she shared the same ugliness inside, now that she knew the secrets that lingered on the fringes of what society considered normal or good, she understood his need to wash away the remnants of truth that sullied the home that was as much a nightmare as it was a dream.
The bath water turned a light shade of brown as she lowered herself down in the confines of its warmth. Her hands played idly over the surface creating ripples that washed across her body, that twisted and obscured the parts of her that were as scarred as Max.
And in the stillness that permeated the silent space of her thoughts, in a moment where her weakness and apathy had been brought out of shadow into light, Alice struggled with a decision she didn’t want to make.
Finishing her bath, she took her time drying her body and finding a clean set of comfortable clothes. She descended the stairs and wound her way through the halls into the kitchen, preparing a warm cup of tea before making her way into the small parlor that sat outside the basement door.
The screams were silent while Max was away, but they still managed to echo inside her thoughts.
There was only one way she could silence them, and the understanding tore her apart.
She loved him. She would never speak of the things she knew he did in the grim, musty darkness of the basement. But she couldn’t remain in the house and endure the slaughter either.
The thought of turning Max in was a crushing weight she couldn’t carry. It was the prison of his childhood home that created that dark monster inside him. He didn’t deserve to die in a prison of another kind.
She would remain silent. She would carry his secrets to her grave because that was the price of the life he’d given her. But she would also break a promise that she made to him on a bright, sunlit day where they stood over the buried bodies of his past.
Picking up her phone, she dialed a number she knew from heart only because it had flashed on her screen so many times. She’d never answered the phone because she couldn’t face the horrible memories the voice on the other end would elicit.
“Alice?”
The phone hadn’t been given a chance to ring more than once before it was answered, and for the first time in months, Alice cried.
“Delilah. I need help.” Her voice trembled over the words, her strength continuing to wane as she faced a future that didn’t include Max by her side.
“Of course, Alice. Anything.” Her sister’s voice trembled just as much. “Oh, God, I’ve been so worried about you. Why haven’t you answered my calls? Where are you?”
The conversation moved awkwardly along, and by the end Alice had given her sister the address where she lived so that Delilah could pick her up.
Ending the call, Alice sobbed, her heart releasing all the anguish and pain that had been trapped inside it for so long.
When her tears had stopped falling, and when she found the strength to move from the couch that had cradled her since she broke down, Alice moved through the house, climbed those eighteen steps, and packed a bag of her things.
She was going home.
And in doing so, she was running from the arms of one abusive man back to embrace of another.
*
After the sun had set and the moon reigned high in the sky, Alice sat alone in the front living room, her pack settled by her feet, her eyes staring out at a doorway that hadn’t been darkened by her sister’s shadow.
Delilah never came as she’d promised, and while it saddened Alice to feel abandoned by her family once again, it didn’t surprise her in the slightest.
More than likely, Delilah had mentioned where she was going to their father, and he had prevented her from leaving because he didn’t want Alice back in their home.
Releasing a resigned sigh, Alice faced the grim reality that she would never leave the life Max had given her behind.
It was for the best, she presumed. She deserved the limbo where she now found herself stuck.
If nothing else, Delilah’s failure to arrive had been both a final kick to Alice’s gut, and a relief that removed the weight of remorse from her withered shoulders.
Her father didn’t want her. Her family didn’t need her. And she wouldn’t have to leave the one person in the entire world that needed her the most.
From one prison to the next.
From one tortured life into another where her silent suffering provided her the physical comfort of home.
Picking up her bag, she stumbled her way through the house and up the stairs. Putting away her things, she dragged herself to bed.
Sleep wasn’t easy that night, and when she woke up screaming she remembered why she would have never been able to live without Max by her side.
*
Max returned home later that evening, his expression sharp and accusing, his eyes much colder than they had been when he left. Alice assumed his meetings hadn’t gone well, and resulted in an itch he needed to scratch.
While they ate an early breakfast, Alice casually inquired about the meetings, not wanting to pester him too much while he was in one of his moods. However, Max was quieter than normal. He wasn’t forthcoming, and the sticky silence that floated between them wasn’t doing any good for Alice’s lack of appetite.