Hand in Hand

He made me promise not to tell anyone.

It was a summer afternoon, the birds’ songs filled the warm air but they would soon be drowned out. I ran my fingers through my hair, brushing it from my eyes. I could now see him bounding on ahead; running through the grass to the side of the path. I joined and sprinted after him laughing as we fell, collapsing in a heap on the ground. We rolled onto our backs; our hands linked and stared up at the blue sky.

“I love summer” I smiled and he returned the favour.

“Come on” He said whilst lifting me from the ground. I spun around; my skirt flying high then leaned in towards him.

“I want to show you something.” He started. I kissed him on the cheek, waiting. A smile wavered on his lips.

“But you have to promise not to tell.” I didn’t doubt him then, I just loved him. So I nodded and he began to lead me through the woods to the side of the path. The ground crunched beneath our feet as we walked along in silence. He moved a few paces ahead his hand trailing behind as it held on to mine, keeping me close. I followed his footsteps until they began to slow. Deep into the woods now, we had left the birds behind and the air was quiet.

“Are we here?” I asked him, my voice disturbing the silence. I got the sense that it was too quiet, my question felt like a knife cutting through it. I don’t know why, maybe it was the look in his eyes. I’d never seen that look before.

He nodded.

“Just over there, by the shed.” He pointed ahead of himself and ushered me forward. Curious, I walked towards his outstretched arm and the shed he had mentioned was revealed. It was a small shack with rusted iron walls and a tin roof. But however strange it might have been to find a shed in the middle of the woods, it wasn’t the shed that caught my eye. It was the girl. The little girl lying slumped against the ridged wall of the shed. She wore pearls around her neck and a doll lay rested by her side. Her hands and feet were tied in pristine rope, her hair secured in flawless plaits, a blonde fringe sweeping across her white forehead, her ocean eyes staring at me without seeing.

I gasped and stumbled over to her. Cradling her in my arms I checked her pulse to find the answer I already knew. Nobody’s skin can be that white, that cold, on a clear summer’s day.

My words were caught, my throat dry. Tears were on the edges of my eyes, held prisoner there by pure shock. Tearing my sight from the girl I turned my attention to him. He was standing a few feet away, his hands in the pockets of his shorts, his toes tapping on the sole of his sandals.

“Do you like her?” he asked nervously. His words barely registered, I didn’t understand what was happening, or rather, I didn’t want to.

“What?” I asked, the tears pressing at my eyes.

“Do you like her?” he repeated. “I got her just for you. You said you wanted a daughter. I even dressed her for you, in a brand new dress, a pink one just like you said you’d buy. And her hair, I did her hair. I learnt how to do it for you so I could do it on her, don’t you remember?”

I tried not to listen but I did remember. He had asked if he could plait my hair. When I realised he couldn’t do it I showed him and then let him practise on me for hours on end. That was weeks ago. All this time he’d been planning this. How could someone plan something like this?

“You don’t like her do you?” It wasn’t a question. He strode forward and grabbed my wrists, pulling me from the ground but it wasn’t like before; he’d changed. He was hurting me. I tried to get away but his grip just tightened.

“Why don’t you like her?” he asked, pushing me against the shed. My back slammed into it but the pain went numb before I could feel anything. His eyes had turned dark, his whole body tensed. I turned my face to the side not wanting to see him anymore. This wasn’t the man I loved.

“Why don’t you like her, she’s perfect. I made sure of it, just for you. Look at me when I talk to you!” He slammed me against the wall again, forcing me to look his way. The blow was harder this time and a sharp pain flowed down my spine.

“I worked so hard on her. She’s my masterpiece, our masterpiece. Why don’t you like her?” He wouldn’t shut up and he looked so mad. I was so scared, I didn’t know what else to do.

“I do.” I breathed, “I do like her, she’s incredible. It’s just so… overwhelming.” He didn’t believe me; I could see it in his eyes.

“Thomas, I love her. I love you.” I tried again and this time his grip loosened. After a minute or so he let go and started rubbing his face. I began to move away only to be stopped by his rough hands cutting into my wrists once more. A small whimper escaped my lips and his hold relaxed. Moving his hands to mine he held on tight, leaned in close and made me promise not to tell.

“Just promise okay? Promise you won’t tell anyone. She can be our little secret. Promise me?”

“I promise.” I said. He nodded and let me go. We walked back hand in hand leaving the girl behind.

So that’s how it happened, that summer afternoon, but you should know, sometimes I break my promises.