I barely slept for three days.

Every time I tried to sleep, the images from my foster family along with Sally's actions plague me and I found myself not even wanting to close my eyes. I would lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of movement coming through the gaps in the window and the high-pitched whistle of the wind. Too many bad memories had been dredged up by Sally's actions, but I still could not find myself feeling happy that she had been locked up for however long Matron decided.

Despite what she did and the anguish she had caused me by bringing everything my foster family did back to the forefront of my mind, no one deserved to be locked up like that. It had been the worst experience of my life when I was younger, and I hated to imagine how bad it would be. She might have crossed the line by attacking me, but even that did not warrant the type of punishment Matron had decided would be fair.

The bruises on my neck became proof of what had happened, and they were still visible three days later when Sally was finally allowed out. She appeared beside Matron not long after we had started our morning chores, pale with dark rings around her eyes with soot and ash clinging to her entire body. She kept her head down, didn't say anything and just grabbed a cloth to start dusting. I exchanged looks with Charity but did not say anything.

Charity was not all that pleased that I did not think locking Sally up was the best way to handle the situation. She supported the idea of it being the best punishment for her after what she did and could not understand why I would not support it. I could not bring myself to tell her that it was not a form of punishment in my eyes. My foster family may have used it as a form of punishment, but that was just the excuse they used to get away with it. It's not a form of punishment.

"Miss Hayworth, you have visitors," Matron said when she passed me, not even stopping. We were all hold in the dining room cleaning that I did not even hear someone knocking at the door. My mind must have been elsewhere.

"Good luck," Charity muttered.

I handed her my scrubbing brush and brushed my hands over my dress to try and remove the grime, but I had days' worth of dust on it that I hadn't tried to remove so I looked a mess. My hands shook a little and I clenched into a fist at my side to try and keep them from showing. Since Sally attacked me, I hoped I wouldn't be asking the Atkinsons for at least a week, long enough for the bruises to fade but they were still rather obvious. Those were questions I would rather not answer.

Matron had already disappeared up to her office without even waiting for me and I found myself dragging my feet a little more than usual. I climbed the stairs and ran a light hand up the bannister as I did do, feeling the grooves of the wood on my palm. A low hum of conversation comes from Matron's office, but I do not understand what they are saying. I paused outside the door and took a breath, flexing my hands by my side before knocking.

"Enter," Matron said from within. I twisted the door handle and opened the door. "Ah, Lizzie. Come in."

"Good morning, Lizzie," Mrs Atkinson said. Her eyes darted to the bruises on my neck. "What on earth happened?"

"There was an altercation between Lizzie and one of the other girls. One of the other girls started the altercation, and she has been punished for it. From what I can tell, Lizzie did not do anything either before or during the altercation itself."

Mrs Atkinson made a noise that I couldn't quite decipher. "Well, we were wondering if you would like to spend the afternoon with us. William would like to see you again, in fact, he's rather insistent on it."

"Lizzie, the decision is yours," Matron said.

Matron looked at me as though expecting me to say no and part of me wanted to. After everything that had happened with Sally, I did not feel like I could put myself out there again. All of this had been caused because I had agreed to go with the Atkinsons, and I knew that the back and forth would only make things worse regardless of the punishment Sally had received. Still, I could not let what Sally did stop me from at least trying to break away from what my foster family did.

I did not want Sally to be the reason I did not at least try. If anything, she pushed me into it a little more than she knew.

"Yes, alright," I said.

"Very well." Matron tilted her head a little, as though confused my decision, but she did not say it. "You may go and get changed and meet us in the entranceway."

"Yes, Matron."

I brushed my hands over my dress and slipped from the room. Outside, I stopped and pressed my back against the hallway wall to try and calm my shaky breathing a little more. The last thing I needed was the Atkinsons to see how nervous I really was over this entire thing when just a few days ago I had been perfectly content with it. Sally's actions had done far more damage then I would let on, especially to them.

After a few seconds, I pushed myself off the wall and walked the short distance to the dormitory where I changed from my usual dress into my Sunday best. It had been laundered so the flour from my attempted baking session had been removed and it looked as good as new. I ran a brush through my hair, trying to make it appear a little less dishevelled than it usually was.

In truth, I found myself doing everything I could to prolong meeting them in the entranceway so my time with them would be cut in half. If I had to start from the beginning, which certainly seemed to be that way, then I wanted to do it in stages and allow myself to be used to being around them. Although I agreed to spend the day with them, I could not fight the nagging doubt at the back of my mind.

Once changed, I left the dormitory and started the slow walk downstairs to the entranceway where the Atkinsons were waiting. I offered a small smile and stood off to the side whilst Matron took a few minutes to run her eyes over my entire person to decide whether I was worthy of even leaving the house in my current state. Part of me wanted her to say no, to refuse to let me go because I was in such a state, but she had let me go out before and I had not changed that much in a few days.

"We'll have her back before dark, Matron," Mrs Atkinson said.

"Very well. I'll have one of the girls finish your chores, Lizzie."

"Yes, Matron."

"I shall see you this evening."

Matron nodded her head towards us, and I followed Mr and Mrs Atkinson outside and into the cold winter air. I had had the sense to grab my shawl, but it did not do all that much to protect me from the wind that managed to sneak in under the shawl. Mr and Mrs Atkinson had decided to take a carriage since walking would have meant exposure to the cold for longer than a human could bear. They climbed into the carriage first with me close behind, settling into the seat opposite them.

The two of them exchanged glances as the carriage pulled away from the pavement. I could feel Mrs Atkinson's eyes on the bruises on my neck, but I turned away and looked out of the window. I watched the London streets pass by as we drove, people milling about, walking into shops and trying to shield themselves from the cold. None of the children appeared all that bothered by it and most of them gazed up at the sky in search of snow.

When the carriage stopped outside their house, the Atkinsons climbed out first, but I hung back for a little while and ran my hands over my skirts to try and prepare myself for spending the entire day with them once again. I do not even remember being so nervous the first day I had spent with them, but that was without William around. This would be a little different, even though I had spent time with William before Sally had proved just how easy it was for people to change.

I climbed out of the carriage and followed them into the house where William stood awkwardly in the hall. He was leaning against the doorframe near the living room, one hand resting on his head and scratching at his hair which stuck up at awkward angles. Hie entire outfit appeared a little dishevelled.

"What are you doing?" Mrs Atkinson asked, pulling off her shawl and hat.

"Nothing," William said.

"You've been sliding down the hall again, haven't you?"

"I would never do such a thing."

"That's a yes. How many times do you have to be told to not slide down the hall in your socks? One of these days, you're going to fall over and injure yourself."

"It hasn't happened yet," William said.

He smiled and pushed himself off the door frame. His eyes darted to the bruises on my neck, but he did not mention them, I suppose he did not want to get in trouble with his parents for mentioning something he should not. I hung my shawl up on the coat stand beside the door and stood awkwardly in the doorway, not really knowing what I should do with myself. After spending so many years in the orphanage, I was used to routine and not having the freedom to go and do what I wanted. I needed someone to tell me what to do.

Mr Atkinson noticed my awkwardness and behind me, I heard him mutter something to his wife. The two of them exchanged what sounded like a rather heated discussion in whisper form before either of them said anything aloud. Even William just stood in the hallway picking at his fingernails rather than doing anything. He pulled a face at me and rolled his eyes, I just looked at him, stunned that he would get away with behaving that way towards his parents.

"Why don't you two go down to the kitchen and make something to alongside luncheon? We need to have a word," Mr Atkinson said.

"Just don't get into too much trouble," Mrs Atkinson added.

William smiled. "I never make trouble. Come on Lizzie."

He nodded his head towards the end of the hallway, and I followed him towards the kitchen with my hands clasped in front of me to try and keep them shaking. We headed down the steps towards the kitchen, the sound of pots and pans banging together travelled up from below. I did not mind the idea of spending the day doing something productive, albeit not something I am very good at, but I would rather do it on my own. It would not just be William in the kitchen, it would be the kitchen staff as well.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I gripped onto the bannister as the entire room appeared to sway under my feet. William did not seem to notice, and I stopped for a few seconds until the feeling passed by. That wasn't the first time that had happened since Sally attacked me, but I tried to ignore it as best I could. It had started to become a little more frequent and harder to ignore. The sensation passed and I followed William into the kitchen.

Upon entering, I spotted Mrs Langdon by the sink washing a collection of dishes with Sheila drying them beside her. They both smiled when they saw me and watched William grab a collection of bowls and spoons, no doubt used to him just walking in and taking over the entire kitchen. It certainly appeared to be a common occurrence with him.

"It's lovely to see you again, Lizzie," Mrs Langdon said.

"You too," I muttered.

"So, we know you're awful at baking cakes, but how are you with biscuits?" William asked.

"Probably just as bad."

"This should be fun. Come on, the sooner we bake them the sooner we can eat them."

William pushed an empty bowl towards me, and I took a few steps towards the table where he intended to work. The entire room lurched to the side, and I grabbed hold of the edge of the table and waited for it to pass, but it did not. I could feel the ground moving under my feet, but I knew it was not, it just seemed that way. This time, it did not go unnoticed by William.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Just a little light-headed," I said.

"Why don't you sit down? We can get you something to drink and see if that helps."

Mrs Langdon walked around the other side of the table and I watched her disappear into another room nearby. William shuffled his way past the chairs that stuck out around the table at awkward angles. The continued to sway under my feet and I squeezed my eyes shut to try and fight the sensation, but it did not seem to pass no matter how hard I tried to fight it. I opened my eyes, but the room still moved. Dark spots appeared at the edge of my vision and I could not manage to shake them.

Before I could do anything, I found myself tipping sideways as the darkness encased me. 

~~~

First Published - December 16th, 2020