Deafening Silence - Part III

Continuation from Part III.

BANG, BANG, BANG.
Alpris stirs, not quite sure whether she is dreaming of the intrusive sound or if it’s real.
She tightens the warm, fuzzy duvet around her shoulders and tries to crawl back into the supportive abyss of sleep and forgetfulness, but the knock comes again, more urgent and invasive to her soul. Protesting shouts.... that of his; Words too angry to decode.

There’s no point in going back to sleep now. It’s still the same muggy, humid Tuesday evening.  She knows this because there is still little light glowing through the curtain in her room. What the f**k does he want now?
“What?” she mumbles loudly, her hands tightening around the sheets. She begins to lose the sweet disregard of reality, as rage and resentment replaces its fuzzy definition. Her legs, beneath the covers, curl and bend protectively; encasing the warmth.
“Get out here, now,” he bellows from behind the door.
The effects of the alcohol are still swimming around in her brain, mixed with exhaustion. It makes the process of crawling out of bed near impossible. She can hear him sighing impatiently as she staggers over to the door and tries to ignore the sharp cold in the air. She realizes just before opening it that she is still in her school uniform and it clings to her uncomfortably.

Barely with the door open, his long brown arm snakes out and he yanks her roughly by her collar into the hallway. Alpris is fully awake now; jolted by the physical contact as her feet unsteadily find the floor.
“Are you high?” he accuses her. She can only manage to shake her head slowly.
The homely smell of the beef macaroni is distant now.
She feels very vulnerable, exposed and raw.
His tone is sharp; contrasting against her sensitive ears. She is still coming out of her short-lived coma and he takes this opportunity to override her unstable orientation.
“Are you sure?” His grip tightens; and his features are twisted into an authoritative scowl. His silver-black hair is ruffled to a scruffy style, and those depthless, searching brown eyes of his burn into her soul as if he can spot and deteriorate her every weakness. Her stability begins to melt away under his heat.
The voices are back, there’s no doubt about it.
 They always have something to say at the wrong times.
“Hey Alpris, remember when he made you undress in front of him?”
“Do you recognise that look he’s giving you?”
With a sudden burst of energy she shrugs him off angrily, feeling something stir up inside her. It’s a familiar feeling, one of that she used to feel in the past when she experienced blind rage. The last time she experienced it was before and after she was being treated in the psychiatric ward... for such a long time she has isolated herself. But now her heart speeds up, jumps in her throat and plummets down to her stomach. She feels ten times more alive than she did getting out of bed...or any other day lately.
“I’m not f*****g high,” she spits. He draws back, surprised at her outburst.
Then his look of shock is gone as quickly as it appeared. He glowers, as if he can’t believe Alpris had enough strength to fight back and reaches out for the collar of her blouse again. This time, Alpris knocks his wrist away with her fist and her knuckles connect with his wrist bone. She barely feels anything, but he grimaces with the sharp contact, wincing slightly before regaining himself.
“See? Didn’t that feel good, Alpris? Didn’t it just?”
“You have the power now use it to your advantage.”
“The tables have turned! Ha-ha-ha!”

Ohh... that felt good.

The adrenaline is intoxicating. Burst after burst of pleasure shoots through her chest, arms and abdomen; she feels herself shaking uncontrollably. He must sense something because he takes a slow, cautious step back, aware of her change in mood. But Alpris is no longer within the grip of reality; she feels as if she is dreaming and everything is a blur. She doesn’t even have time to think when she draws her hand back and slaps him hard in the shoulder, sending him sprawling backwards. He lets out a cry of protest and tries to clasp the wall for support, but Alpris lunges forward and hits him harder; this time in his ribcage. He falls to the floor with a thud and she kicks him roughly in his hip. Her foot tingles with life, and she feels as though she can kick him three times harder without effort.
It feels so good. I can’t stop, I can’t stop, I can’t stop. It’s all a dream, I swear.
Alpris is aware of a mumbling sound, and realises after a few seconds that it belongs to her. Or is it the voices? It doesn’t matter.
Now he’s really mad... he’s very angry. But he’s not getting up. He’s rolling on the floor in agony, surprise, shock and frustration. The silver hazy bubbles surrounding Alpris’ sight begin to pop and fade, and she starts to slowly come to. Her ears ring, the voices die down...
“Just listen to us, we’re always right...”
“Oh my god, what happened?!”
Mom darts from around the corner and rushes to his side, where he shakes her off furiously and sits up.
“He hit me first,” Alpris whispers, rubbing her arm defensively. She is shaking even more now, only now she is completely aware of everything. Totally aware... did she really just attack him? It was just like watching a movie. Being a puppet to the master of rage and unkempt emotion and watching it roll over you with no control. She feels somewhat gratified, though. As if she just downed a glass of fresh lemon juice that hit the spot.
He protests, but mom shakes her head and sighs.
“Why can’t you just leave her alone, Jack?”
His mouth drops open and he glances up at Alpris in disbelief. She keeps her eyes averted, her eyes tracing the hazel swirls in the mahogany sideboard. The resentment radiates off of him like a rotten fruit, oozing a horrible stench and making one cringe.
Finally, Alpris meets his gaze.
There are a thousand ways his look could be predicted, but he just groans inwardly and tips his head back before she can read it accurately.
“Marijuana,” is all he can manage. Alpris’ fists tighten, and she presses her lips together to suppress her sailor-mouth.
“Okay.” Mom nods. “I’ll get you some tonight.”
“You have to free yourselves... get rid of him.”
Truth be told, it was an idea that had crossed Alpris’ mind several times without the aide of the voices. But now...
Always gonna be slaves to his needs and wants...
Well, now Alpris had a plan to remove their shackles once and for all.