The Coming From the Shadows Series
Difficult Times Ahead: Part 2 – The Aftermath
Content Warning Notice: The Following Story, while not featuring explicit scenes or containing strong language; does contain sensitive material around the themes of Trauma following assault; if such content is too strong, please refrain from reading further.
Previous Instalments:
- Difficult Times Ahead: Part 1 – Facing Challenges: Raven and Yasmin’s Morning of Change
- Difficult Times Ahead: Part 2 – Awareness on Drink Spiking: Yasmin and Raven’s Story
The air hung thick with the scent of cheap sun cream, frying onions; it was a typical day in July for Blackpool; fireworks would late explode over the tower, to paint the night sky with a fleeting burst of colour – but, Raven would not see them, not this year; this year, the bright display would feel like a mocking reminder of the light which had been extinguished.
Severan hours; It had been seven hours since she had woken up in those unfamiliar surroundings, on that lumpy mattress – discovering herself in a state of undress, the fragmentated memories, the vile taste that clung to the back of her throat; it had been seven hours since the horrifying puzzle pieces clicked into place, the nauseating feeling, the throbbing in her head the violation that clawed at her insides.
She sat burled on the floor; the cold wall pressed against her back as she tried to hide herself behind her bed; her cheerful and colourful, patterned floral design – once a familiar comfort was now just mocking her as her memories fixated on that morning, she’d been drugged, assaulted; her choice taken from her.
She dared to glance at the mirror earlier; at the girl that stared back with wide, haunted eyes; the bruising around her nek was a cruel reminder; and she did not need to see beneath her clothing to know the state of the bruising, she could feel the ache still.
Downstairs, a war was raging on between her parents – their voices amplified by anger and disbelief, they echoed through the wall; her father, Philip has responded with an unyielding fury when she came back with Yasmin, not because she had suffered a drink spiking and subsequent assault; but purely about her disobeying his refusal – she’d snuck out, and to Philip, that was worse.
His waved off the news about what had happened, declared he did not want to hear it; he instead started speaking about punishing her; grounding her, taking her phone from her; as if those petty punishments could even touch the gaping wound she felt.
Her mother; Jenna flew back in an equal rage; she defended her daughter, her rage stemmed from his callus disregard to what had happened, the very idea of punishing her was abhorrent, the sheer trauma inflicted on Raven had been ignored by Philip, he was blinded by his need for control – Raven’s violation was secondary to Philip next to her disobedience.
Each raised voice, each slammed door; it felt like a fresh assault upon Raven’s already shattered nerves; she wanted to scream, to beg them to stop; but her words were trapped, frozen in her voice.
She felt alone; utterly and devastatingly alone.
Within Blackpool’s town centre; at a small little keepsake shop; ‘Little Darlings’ Yasmin struggled to focus on the various colourful items; the saccharine scent of chewing gum usually a pleasant smell for Yasmin, was now an irritation to her – every minute since she had left Raven after finding her that morning on the bench, it felt like an eternity; a cruel delay, all she thought about was getting back to her
Yasmin’s boss; Mrs. Peterson – a kind hearted woman beneath a mountain of brightly coloured cardigans had noticed Yasmin’s agitation, she knew she wanted to be with her girlfriend, and she understood why – had the morning not been so busy, she would have let Yasmin off without issue, but, she required assistance at that point, now though – things had quietened down, making her way over, she gently tapped Yasmin’s shoulder “Go on love” she said, her voice soft “Things are quiet enough now; you need to go be with your girlfriend”
Gratitude flooded Yasmin; thick and warm, she quickly said her thanks, grabbed her bag from the staff room and practically ran from the building – she raced for the preomande to get to the tramstop; a swift transport back to Raven.
All day long, the image of Raven on that bench had tormented her; the way she had been when she found her, the trance-dazed like state; the immediate recoiling when she attempted to first interact before she worked out what had happened – it had been the terror in Raven’s eyes that spoke volumes of what happened – the sheer fragility of her; Yasmin’s protective instincts were usually always strong, now though, they had been amplified – she had to get back to her, to make sure she was okay.
The Wright household remained a battlefield; the air crackled with tension and unspoken accusations, a simmering resentment; as Yasmin finally reached the front door, she didn’t even have a chance to knock before it flew open – Elza, Raven’s sister stood there; then, there was an enraged shout of frustration deeper in the house Yasmin flinched a moment as she looked at Eliza who also flinched.
Eliza then stepped aside to let Yasmin in; the two walking slowly back down the hall before stopping at the stairs; Eliza’s face was etched with worry; she had yet to say anything, but Yasmin understood that there was currently a lot of emotions in the air – as more shouting erupted from the kitchen, Eliza silently gestured up the stairs, indicating for Yasmin to go on up as she mouthed ‘She’s in her room still’ before she decides to return to the kitchen, Eliza needed to return to mediating the buffering storm between her parents.
Yasmin rushed up the stairs; she took two at a time, her heart pounded as she raced upwards.
When Yasmin reached Raven’s bedroom door; she hesitated a moment, deciding to knock first; slowly, she pushed the door open.
The scene that greeted her was worse than was she had originally envisioned; Raven was huddled behind her bed, pressing herself against the wall to try hiding; trying to disappear, she looked so small and broken; like a wounded bird.
Yasmin’s breath caught; she wanted to rush over, to hold her; but she knew she couldn’t do that – she had to be careful; to be gentle.
Closing the door, she slowly made her way over, sitting down on the floor, leaving a comfortable distance between them.
Raven didn’t speak; she didn’t really acknowledge Yasmin at first – she just stared at the ground, her eyes were fixed on some invisible point; after a moment, she flickered her line of sight up at Yasmin, recognition flashing over her face a brief moment before her gaze returned back down.
Yasmin simply offered a sad smile; she didn’t speak – she offered silent company; the shouting downstairs continued; punctured by a sickening sound of crashing plates; Raven flinched at each crash, her body tensing.
She could see how it was affecting her; finally, Yasmin spoke – her voice was soft, low “Raven” she said gently “Do you…, do you want to come back with me to the flat; just…, to get away from all this?”
Raven’s head snapped up; her eyes, red-rimmed and swollen, met Yasmin’s – for the first time since Raven had found her on the promenade, Yasmin finally saw the flicker of something; ‘Hope?’, ‘Relief?’ she was certain, but there was something
Slowly, Raven gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Yasmin’s heart felt a wave of relief “Okay” she said, her voice still soft “Just give me a minute to pack your bag; okay?”
While Yasmin moved with a deliberate slowness; going about to choose each item with care – she picked clothes that would be soft, comfortable; choosing Raven’s favourite oversized hoodie, a worn copy of a book that Raven would usually find solace in; she wanted to be sure to fill the bag with things Raven would find comfort and safety in; everything that she new would be needed to make Raven feel better; even if it was only a little.
Downstairs though was entirely different; Jenna, having finally grown too angry, finally shoved Philip backwards; he wasn’t expecting it as he stumbled backwards causing the table behind him to slide back in response to his movement falling against it, it knocked over several glasses and cups that had been sat there; they crashed down, shattering against the floor.
Jenna didn’t keep the distance though, she closed that gap fast as she moved in front of him, pointing her finger directly into his face – the height difference meant nothing to her “I’ll take your choice from you then!” she shouted “Let’s see how you handle having the ability to say ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ taken from you!”
“It is her own fault!” Philip snapped back as he tried straightening up; but she wouldn’t move back; she would remove her finger from his face; his was pushing all the right buttons for angering her beyond a point he had never experienced; he remembered the comment from her father Ralph, he had told him once that; ‘She’s a Langdon; don’t piss her off’ – he didn’t put much stock into that comment, but now, he realises it was a warning
If no for their daughter; Eliza deciding to try calming the argument – it was very possible, his words, or anything else that came from his mouth, could have triggered something more violent, Eliza, seeing things getting too heated had decided she needed to get between them; trying to push them both apart.
Back upstairs; Yasmin had finished packing a back; when she was done, she slung the bag over her shoulder and slowly returned to Raven, kneeling down – she gently began to coax Raven to her feet; Raven was unsteady, fragile, but Yasmin supported her, being careful not to touch her too firmly she could sense the lingering trauma in her body.
She helped Raven slip on her denim jacket; then offered a out her hand, it was a tentative gesture, an invitation – Raven hesitated, her eyes searching Yasmin; then, slowly, she reached out and took Yasmin’s hands – her hand was cold and trembling.
Together, they walked out of the room and down the stairs.
Jenna was at the bottom of the stairs waiting for them; her face was a mix of both anger and relief “Yasmin” she said; her voice was tight “Thank you” she managed to smile at her, her eyes then shifted to her daughter; Raven, her eyes were filled with an unspeakable sorrow “I’ll call you later, okay love?”
Yasmin looked towards Raven; Raven slowly nodded – Yasmin gave a gentle squeeze of Raven’s hand before looking back to Jena, their eyes meeting and she smiled sadly
“I mean it Yasmin; thank you” Jenna said softly; Yasmin nodded, she knew that Jenna right now was feeling all kinds of emotions; but most prominently, it was her anger at Philip
As Jenna slowly returned to the kitchen; Yasmin looked to Raven “Come on” she said gently, leading Raven towards the front door and out of the chaotic environment
Yasmin decided that it would be best to walk; the tram and busses would be packed; it would be a loud and overwhelming environment – Raven needed quiet, space and a gentle rhythm – so, they walked; it would be a long walk, but it was preferable.
As they walked; Raven kept her head down; her grip on Yasmin’s hand was tight; Yasmin didn’t try to force conversation, she simply walked beside her; offering small comments on things that might offer some warmth to Raven.
When Yasmin and Raven finally did reach the flat on the opposite side of Blackpool; it was a beacon of hope for Raven – it was small and simple; but filled with Yasmin’s personality, even Raven’s only little touch was present due to Yasmin’s encouragement during the initial decorations they had done.
The colourfu; cushions adorned the couch; some fairy-lights framed around the window, and a hunt of lavender and cinnamon wafted through the air – it was a safe haven, a world away from the chaos and trauma that had consumed Raven’s day.
As they stepped inside; Yasmin gently guided Raven towards the living room “Just…, sit down” she said, her tone remained soft “Make yourself comfortale; I will go put your bag in the bedroom and make a cup of tea”
She let Raven take her time as she went to take the bags; her own, and Raven’s to the bedroom; placing them down by the bed – then, she want to the kitchen, putting the kettle on.
A cup of tea; a warm, comforting cup of tea could help sooth Raven, she hoped so anyway; she felt pangs of questions coming into her head, she was second guessing herself now – she knew Raven, but this was something she never expected, she desperately wanted to make the right choices that would help Raven, she didn’t want to scare her, or upset her.
As the kettle boiled; Yasmin took a deep breath; leaning forwards against the counter – she had no clue what to even say; what to do, but, there felt like something urging her, that all she needed to do was to simply be there – to offer a safe-space and a listening ear, and her unwavering love.
Hearing the click of the kettle; she snapped her eyes back; she poured the tea, added a slash of milk and carried the steaming mug into the living room – Raven was sat on the couch, her knee’s raised up to her chest, her eyes were fixed on a flickering candle that was lit in front of her.
Yasmin placed the mug down on the small table beside the couch “Here” she said softly “Drink this; it’ll help”
Ast first, Raven didn’t move; her eyes fixated on the flickering flame, but her gaze did briefly move; she looked to the mug, then to Yasmin; there was a subtle movement of acknowledgement before her eyes returned to the flickering candle flame.
Yasmin sat down beside her; she purposely left a small space between them, she wouldn’t try to touch or talk; she simply sat there, a silent guardian, watching over the girl she loved the most in this world.
When fireworks would begin to go off as the darkness descended; bursts of light illuminated the sky – but within the small, quiet flat, the only light that mattered was the gentle flickering of the candle flame.
Observing from the periphery; unseen though, the ghostly shimmer of Raven’s grandmother; Lydia, watched over the two – her ethereal presence a silent comfort, her spectral eyes, filled with an otherworldly light bore a profound sadness at her granddaughters pain – Raven’s anguish resonated within Lydia, a deep ache.
And yet, she could not intervene directly; she only hoped her small words of encouragement, whispered into the very air surrounding Yasmin, would be enough – even if Yasmin was unaware of its source.
Written By: Westley H.
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