Silent Scream

She remembered ru

The hatred in the eyes of the woman who had birthed them took Kim’s breath away. She backed up the bed, keeping Mikey behind.

Her mother moved closer. ‘You stupid little bitch. Don't you know he's the fucking devil? He's got to die and then the voices will stop. Don't you fucking get it?’

Kim shook her head. No, she didn't. He wasn't the devil. He was her brother.

‘I'll get him, I promise you, I'll get him.’

From that point on, Kim had had to remain one step in front of her mother at all times. There were further attempts during the following year but Kim was never far from Mikey's side.

During the day she kept a badge in her pocket and pricked her lower arm to keep herself alert. At night she took handfuls of coffee from the jar and placed them straight into her mouth, absorbing the bitter granules into her tongue.

Only when she heard the rhythmic sound of her mother's snoring would she allow herself to rest.

There were occasional visits from social services. An overworked individual conducting a ten minute cursory inspection with a mental clipboard; a test she somehow managed to pass.

Kim had wondered many times since just how low the pass grade would have had to have been for them to remain in the care of their mother.

No evidence of crack cocaine – check.

No evidence of parent stumbling and drunk – check.

Children free of obvious scarring – check.

A week after their sixth birthday Kim had exited the lavatory, to find her brother attached to the radiator with handcuffs.

Kim looked at her mother with horror, confused for a few seconds. It was all the time her mother needed. Kim felt her hair being grabbed from behind and bunched in her mother's fist. She was dragged to the radiator and cuffed to her brother.

‘If I've gotta get you to get him then that's what I'll have to do.’

Those were the last words she ever heard from her mother.

By the end of that day Kim had managed to squirm her right foot beneath the bed and dislodge a pack of five cream crackers and a half bottle of Coke.

For two days she had been convinced that her mother would return. That one of her rare lucid moments would occur and they would be freed.

On day three she realised that their mother was not coming back and had left them to die. With only two crackers and a few mouthfuls of Coke remaining, Kim stopped eating completely. She divided the last two crackers in half and half again, making eight bites for Mikey.

Every few hours she would try and force her hand through the cuffs, removing slivers of skin each time.

By the end of day five the crackers were gone. A single mouthful of liquid remained in the Coke bottle.

Mikey turned his face towards her; so thin, so pale. ‘Kimmy, I peed again,’ he whispered.

She looked into his eyes; so distraught at one more puddle amongst the foulness beneath them. His earnest expression made her laugh out loud. And once she started laughing, she couldn't stop. Even though he didn't know why, Mikey joined in until the tears rolled over their cheeks.

And when the tears stopped falling, she held him close. Because she already knew. She whispered into his ear that Mummy was on her way with a meal and that he just had to hang on. She kissed the side of his head and told him she loved him.

Two hours later he died in her arms.

‘Sleep tight, sweet Mikey,’ she whispered, as the last breath left his battered, fragile body.

Hours or days later there was a loud noise and then people. Lots of people. Too many. They wanted to take Mikey and she was too weak to fight them off. She had to let him go. Again.

The fourteen day stay in hospital was a blur of tubes, needles and white coats. The days had melded into one.

Day fifteen was much clearer. She was taken from the hospital to the children's home. And she was given bed number nineteen.

‘Excuse me, Miss, are you okay?’ asked a voice from above.

Kim was startled to realise that she had slid down the wall and was now sitting on the ground.

She wiped away the tears and sprang to a standing position. ‘I'm fine, thank you, I'm fine.’

The ambulance driver hesitated for a second but nodded and then wandered away.

Kim stood and breathed deeply to dispel the overwhelming sadness as she placed the memories back in the box. Never would she forgive herself for her failure to protect her brother.

She unlocked the helmet from the wheel. Her body now filled with fight and determination.

No, she would not have it. Kim would not fail these girls because damn it, they mattered to someone. They bloody well mattered to her.

Sixty-Four

Stacey leaned back in her chair and stretched. A heat burned across the muscles in her neck. She rolled her head to the left and then to the right. Something clicked in her right shoulder blade.

The Guv had said go home and that's what she intended to do.

She closed down the Facebook page and her emails beneath. There were a few at the top still in bold and unread but she would see to them on Saturday morning. All she craved right now was a long hot soak in a bubble bath followed by a takeaway pizza and a dose of Real Housewives. She didn't care which one.

The whirring of the computer came to a halt, plunging the room into silence.

Her feet slipped into the shoes beneath the desk. Stacey do

Her left hand hesitated over the light switch but something nagged at the back of her mind. Something she'd seen but couldn’t work out the meaning of just yet.

She growled as she stepped back to her desk. The whirring seemed louder, as though it were under duress. Stacey guessed she was projecting.

She keyed in without looking and went straight to her emails. It was the second unread message that quickened her heart. She read from the begi

By the time she reached the end of the text her mouth had run dry.

With trembling fingers, Stacey reached for the phone.

Sixty-Five

Kim parked the bike at the side of the fenced-off building. She dismounted and stepped to the side.

It was only eight o’clock but it felt much later. The cold night air had already dropped below freezing, driving families to lock the doors, close the curtains and curl up before a flickering orange flame and a night-time film.

It was a notion that had occurred to Kim when she’d briefly stopped by her home, a place she'd barely seen for the last week, but she knew she couldn’t rest. The answers were emerging from the fog but there was one missing piece that still troubled her.

The dig site was now empty. All traces of activity had been removed. To see the site shut down was eerie. The white tents were back in storage awaiting their next victim. The equipment had been removed and would be gone the next day. Along with Cerys.

To the naked eye and in the darkness, the land looked as it had one week earlier. Even the few bunches of flowers and teddy bears had now disappeared.

But Kim knew she could walk to all three graves and identify their exact location. And that fact would remain long after the scars of the landscape had healed.