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“Help me”

The voice was quiet, pleading. The girl shifted uncomfortably in her slumber.

A second voice cut in.

“I saw her do it, I saw her and she knows”. It was a man’s voice, deep and resonant.

“Please help me, I can’t do this on my own”.  The first voice again.

The girl turned onto her back, she was frowning.

Now a third voice.

“I was young once, beautiful even. Now look at me” The sadness was heavy in this voice.

“Can you hear me? If you can hear me, please help me”

The girl whimpered and a tear slid down her cheek.

“She knows. What am I supposed to do now?” The man was angry this time.

“Help me, pleeeasssee” The voice was higher this time, panicked.

“Look at me” The voice was sobbing now.

The girl was sobbing too, eyes moving behind the closed lids. She kicked off the covers, turned clutching the pillow beneath her head.

“Look at me! JUST LOOK AT ME WILL YOU?!”

The girl gasped, a small sound in the quiet room.

“Tell me. What shall I do now?”

“Why won’t you help me? I know you must hear me?” The voice was desperate.

“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful…” The voice trailed off, sad again.

The girl was crying again, fingers twitching.

A scream in the darkness. But the room was quiet.

“HELP ME, HELP ME, oh god, why won’t you please help me. Please”

“Look at me!”

“What should I do? Tell me”

“Look! Look! Can’t you see me?”




The voices overlapped, merged together, until they were not identifiable from each other.

The girls eyes moved frantically now.

And then she was falling, falling, falling. The nauseous feeling of weightlessness lodged in the pit of her stomach.

She felt her body hit the bed and her eyes flew open.

In a second, she saw the familiar pink walls of her room, the bookcase, the bedside table with the desk lamp, the dolls on her bed.

And the bed was bouncing beneath her, as if she had jumped and flung herself onto it.

The voices were gone. She lay with her body rigid, eyes wide open, listening to the creak of the mattress springs in the dark.

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