The Scream

Jessica didn't like the bedroom upstairs.

Not anymore.

Five minutes earlier it had been her room. Her room with yellow curtains covered in tiny flowers. Her room with dolls sitting neatly on shelves and drawings pinned crookedly across the walls. Her room where Daisy always climbed into her bed after bad dreams because Daisy insisted monsters couldn't get you if someone else was beside you.

Jessica had always liked that.

Now it felt different.

Now it felt too small.

Too quiet.

Too dark.

Her mother had locked the bedroom door.

Jessica stared at it.

She had never seen her mother lock a bedroom door before.

Not once.

Daisy sat on the bed hugging her stuffed rabbit tightly against her chest. The rabbit had one ear bent over because Daisy slept with it every night. Usually she dragged it everywhere with her.

Tonight she held it like she thought it could protect her.

"Mummy?" Daisy whispered.

Their mother looked toward the door immediately.

"It's okay."

But her voice didn't sound okay.

Jessica stared at her.

Children notice things.

Adults think they're hiding fear because they smile while saying words.

But children hear shaking voices.

Children see trembling hands.

Jessica watched her mother's fingers twisting together over and over again. She watched her eyes fixed on the bedroom door.

Listening.

Waiting.

Downstairs there was silence.

Absolute silence.

Jessica hated it.

Silence after fear felt worse than noise.

Noise at least told you where danger was.

Silence meant danger could be anywhere.

The wind pushed against the windows, making them creak softly. Rain ran down the glass outside, and every few seconds thunder rolled somewhere far away.

"Mum?" Jessica whispered.

No answer.

"Mum..."

Her mother looked down suddenly.

"What sweetheart?"

Jessica swallowed.

"What's happening?"

Her mother forced a smile.

"Nothing's happening."

Jessica knew immediately she was lying.

She knew because her mother's eyes looked wet.

Because her face looked pale.

Because she kept staring at the door.

Because mothers didn't twist their hands together when nothing was wrong.

Then suddenly—

A shout downstairs.

Jessica jumped.

Daisy buried her face against her rabbit instantly.

Voices.

Men's voices.

Too muffled to understand.

Jessica couldn't hear the words.

Only sounds.

Angry sounds.

Then her father's voice.

Loud.

Angry.

Jessica froze.

She had never heard him angry before.

Never.

More crashing echoed downstairs.

Something heavy hit the floor.

Their mother covered her mouth.

"No..."

Jessica looked at her.

"Mum?"

Another crash.

A horrible sound.

Then shouting again.

Jessica stood from the bed.

"I want Daddy."

Her mother grabbed her arm immediately.

"No."

Jessica looked confused.

"But—"

"No."

The word came out too quickly.

Too loudly.

Jessica stared.

Her mother looked frightened instantly.

Not frightened of Jessica.

Frightened of something else.

Of everything else.

She looked at Jessica and her face crumpled.

"I'm sorry..." she whispered.

Then she pulled both girls into her arms.

Jessica could feel her heart beating against her.

Fast.

Too fast.

Jessica had never felt her mother's heart race before.

Parents weren't supposed to be scared.

Parents were the people who stopped scary things.

Weren't they?

Then came a sound Jessica would remember forever.

Her father's voice.

Not shouting.

Screaming.

A scream of pain.

A scream unlike anything she had ever heard.

Everything inside her seemed to stop.

"Mummy..."

Then silence.

Again.

Silence.

Jessica stared toward the door.

Waiting.

Waiting for footsteps.

Waiting for him to come upstairs smiling.

Waiting for him to tell them everything was okay.

Waiting for him to tell them the storm monsters had gone home.

Nothing.

Thirty seconds passed.

Or maybe a minute.

Or maybe ten.

Jessica couldn't tell anymore.

Time suddenly felt strange.

Like it had stopped moving properly.

Then her mother stood slowly.

"No..."

Jessica looked up.

Her mother's face had gone completely white.

"No no no..."

"Mummy?"

She moved toward the bedroom door.

Jessica grabbed her hand.

"Mum?"

Her mother opened the door slowly.

The hallway outside looked darker somehow.

The lights downstairs flickered softly.

Jessica could hear rain.

Thunder.

Wind.

Nothing else.

No footsteps.

No voices.

Nothing.

Her mother stepped into the hallway.

"Jessica stay there."

But Jessica didn't.

She couldn't.

Because children always follow their parents when they're scared.

She followed slowly.

One step.

Then another.

The stairs suddenly felt much bigger than they had before.

She reached the top and looked down.

Then saw red.

Lots of red.

At first she didn't understand.

Children don't understand things like that immediately.

Her father was lying at the bottom of the stairs.

Very still.

Too still.

Her mother made a sound Jessica had never heard before.

Not crying.

Not screaming.

Something worse.

Something broken.

Jessica stared.

Her brain trying desperately to understand what her eyes were seeing.

Daddy wasn't moving.

Why wasn't he moving?

He was supposed to get up.

He was supposed to smile.

He was supposed to tell them everything was okay.

He was supposed to say it was just another story.

"Daddy?"

Nothing.

"Daddy?"

Still nothing.

Then her mother screamed.

And something inside Jessica Jane cracked for the very first time.