Ashes of Her Heart

The closet smelled damp. Alexa Miller curled herself in terror into the corner with her knees bent against her chest as continuous sounds of glass shattering and verbal murmurs of abuse echoed downstairs beyond the hallway. Then came the footsteps, violent and heavy heading her way. Alexa closed her eyes and shut her hands, placing them over her ears, but the sound never paused. Nothing ever stopped the sound. Outside the closet door, the boots resonated on the hallway floor causing them to creak. “Where is she?” a masculine voice thundered. Her tiny body jerked instantly. It was Richard Miller—her father. “No idea,” Sandra Miller snapped from downstairs. “Probably hiding like the little rat she is,” she commented. Alexa whimpered as silently as she could, her teeth gripping his lower lip as hard as she could bear."Crying never solves problems ,it only makes things worse." Everything made things worse." she thought in sobs. The footsteps continued until they paused just outside the door. Alexa froze. For a terrifying period of seconds, silence was heard in the hallway. BANG!! The closet shook disturbingly. Something had slammed a nearby wall. “You useless piece of trash!” Richard roared. Alexa reflexed so hard her shoulder hit the wooden wall behind her. Pain shot through the already existing wound from days back. Outside, Richard staggered down the hallway muttering curses while Sandra continued yelling from below. “You spent the rent money again!” “Shut your mouth!” “You're drunk!” “And whose fault is that?” Another crash followed. Alexa folded more. She had learned something important in life. When adults are quarrelling, the younger ones are to flee. At least, that was what she did. Disappear for good, away from the ongoing madness amongst her parents. The tiny closet was dark except for a thin blade of light peeping through a c***k in the wall. dust randomly scattered through it, creating tiny designs. Alexa gazed at them attentively. She imagined them as fairy lights. Pretty thoughts helped. Sometimes she imagined she lived somewhere else. Somewhere warm. Somewhere, people smiled. Somewhere birthdays mattered. Her gaze slowly dropped toward the tiny cupcake sitting beside her on the floor. The frosting had melted hours ago. Alexa thought it looked beautiful anyway. She had also found a broken pink candle. Five. She was five today. Nobody remembered. Not that she expected them to. Still… Her small fingers carefully picked up the candle. The wick was bent. She traced it gently. Her parents kept arguing. “You hit her again, didn’t you?” Sandra shouted. “And what if I did?” Alexa's chest tightened. “You’ll get us reported!” “No one cares about that brat.” The words hurt more than the bruises. She didn’t know why. Maybe because the bruises faded eventually. Words stayed. A sudden knock echoed through the house. All the shouting stopped. Alexa blinked. Another knock came. Firm. Sharp. Sandra cursed under her breath downstairs.“Who the hell is here now?” Richard muttered something angrily before stomping toward the front door. Alexa stayed frozen inside the closet. Voices drifted upward from below, muffled by walls. Then she heard something strange. A cheerful voice. Bright. Warm. “Hi! Sorry for bothering you!” Alexa frowned slightly. She had never heard a voice apart from her parents' inside this house before. "Today's my daughter’s birthday,” the woman continued. “We’re inviting everyone .” silence. Then Richard laughed harshly. “Are you serious?” “Yes.” The woman sounded confused now. “We thought your daughter might want to come too.” Daughter? Alexa's heart skipped strangely. No one ever invited her anywhere. “She’s sick,” Sandra interrupted quickly. “Oh no,” the woman replied softly. “Is she alright?” “She’s fine,” Richard snapped. “Now if that’s all—” Before he could finish, another voice burst through the doorway. Small. Excited. “Mommy, balloons!” Alexa slowly lifted her head. Something warm flickered inside her chest. A child. Another child was outside. “I want the yellow one!” the little girl squealed. The sound was so happy that Alexa almost forgot where she was. Almost. Downstairs, Sandra forced out an awkward laugh. “Listen, we’re busy.” "That's okay!” the cheerful woman replied. “The party starts at four if your daughter feels better.” Richard grunted. The door slammed shut. Silence filled the house again. Then Sandra hissed, “Great. Now the whole neighbourhood will notice we never let her outside.” Richard scoffed. “Who cares?” Alexa stared at the c***k of light beneath the closet door. A birthday party. Cake. Balloons. Children. She tried imagining what those things looked like together. She couldn’t. Because she had never seen them before. ------------- The danger wasn’t over. Not yet. It never was. Hours passed slowly. The fighting downstairs eventually quieted, replaced by the television blaring. Alexa remained inside the closet long after sunset painted orange light across the room. Her stomach hurt. She hadn’t eaten the previous day. But hunger wasn’t unusual anymore. Eventually, the hallway became quiet. Very slowly, Alexa pushed the closet door open. The bedroom was dim. Dirty clothes covered the floor. Empty beer bottles stood on the dresser. The window rattled in unison with the outside forces of nature. Alexa climbed carefully out of the closet. Every movement felt cautious, felt practised like an animal trying not to get caught. She crept toward the bedroom door and peeked into the hallway. No one. Good. Her bare feet moved silently down the hall. The stairs groaned beneath her weight anyway. Alexa froze immediately. No shouting came. She continued downward slowly. The living room smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. Richard lay helpless across the couch snoring loudly while Sandra sat nearby watching television with an irritated expression. Alexa lowered her head instantly. Maybe if she walked quietly enough— Sandra noticed her immediately. “Well look who finally crawled out.” Alexa stopped moving. Sandra's eyes narrowed as they swept over her. “You got food hidden somewhere?” Alexa shook her head quickly. “Speak!” “N-No.” Sandra scoffed. “Pathetic.” Richard stirred drunkenly on the couch. “What’s she doing out here?” “She's probably hungry.” “So?” Sandra rolled her eyes before glaring toward Alexa again.“There's bread in the kitchen. Don't touch anything else.”Alexa's stomach twisted painfully at the word bread. She whispered, “Okay.” Then hurried away before they changed their minds. The kitchen light flickered weakly overhead. Alexa carefully opened the bread box. Empty. Her heart sank. She checked again anyway. Still empty.A lump formed painfully in her throat. Maybe Sandra forgot. Or maybe she lied on purpose. That happened often too. Alexa quietly closed the bread box. Her eyes wandered toward the sink where a half-eaten sandwich sat abandoned on a plate. She stared at it for several seconds. Then glanced toward the doorway nervously. Slowly…Carefully… She reached for it. “Put that down.” Alexa jerked violently. Sandra stood in the doorway glaring at her. “I said bread.” “There wasn’t any,” Alexa whispered. Sandra marched forward and snatched the sandwich away. “So you thought you could steal?” “I-i wasn’t stealing—” A sharp slap cracked across the kitchen. Alexa stumbled sideways instantly. Pain exploded across her cheek. “You answer back now?” Sandra hissed. Alexa pressed trembling fingers against her face. “I’m sorry…” “You're always sorry.” Richard's heavy footsteps suddenly approached the kitchen. “What now?” “She tried stealing food.” Richard looked toward Alexa with drunken disgust. “She's five,” Sandra snapped. “Kids her age eat everything.” Richard stared at Alexa for a long moment. Then his expression darkened. “You embarrass me.” Alexa lowered her eyes instantly. “I’m sorry.” “Stop saying that!” He grabbed her arm roughly. Alexa cried out softly as pain shot through the bruise already there. Richard yanked her closer. “You know what your problem is?” he slurred. “You keep existing.” Sandra said nothing. She never did. Richard shoved Alexa backwards hard enough that she hit the counter edge painfully before storming away again. Alexa slid weakly to the floor. The kitchen blurred through tears she refused to let fall. Sandra sighed irritably. “Clean yourself up.” Then she walked away too. Alexa stayed curled on the cold floor for a long time after that. The house eventually became quiet again. Richard passed out. Sandra disappeared into her room. Only the ticking clock remained. Tick. Tick. Tick. Alexa slowly pushed herself upright. Her cheek throbbed. Her stomach hurt. Everything hurts. She looked through the kitchen window. Outside, faint lights shone in the distance, and music drifted softly through the night air. The birthday party. It was still happening.