Behind closed doors

“Carla…” A whisper. Two. She stirred in her sleep. “Carla. I’m going to get you out of there.”

She awoke with a start, a fleeting feeling of dread washing over her before she felt relief – hope.

Drip, drip!! Drip, drip!!

Carla sat by the window, watching the heavy raindrops splatter in a rhythmic fall. She had nothing much doing as her only means of escape was the said window. She looked down and was horrified by the hard concrete that lay awaiting her broken limbs, should she decide to take that jump.

She lived in a two-story building with her father and stepmother, after the messy divorce between her parents which ended up separating her and her big brother – Martin.

The problem was, her father listened to the witch all the time, and she had a notion that he bewitched her. Otherwise, why would he listen to and do all she says? Like grounding her and locking her up in her room, unlocking it only to bring her food. As if that will earn them her good graces.

Her room was an otherwise cozy one, with a king-sized bed and walk-in wardrobes filled with designer outfits and clothes. There was a desk placed 45 degrees from the bed, on which her laptop and other devices used to sit. Directly opposite the bed, a flat screen TV was hung on the wall which she used to lock herself up and enjoy in solitude when her parents were still together.

Everything could have been better and manageable, but the witch took all her devices and disconnected her room TV. She’d thrown a tantrum the first few days, accusing her of taking and destroying everything – her parents’ marriages, her freedom, her only sibling, and now the devices that could make her feel sane.

What’s worse – she left nothing but books to keep her company. The books aren’t to her taste, and who in the world reads non-fiction these days?!

Knock! Knock!!

“Go away, witch!” She hissed. She had no intentions of speaking to the woman.

“Psst!” A whisper at the door, and the frown lines dissolved when she realized who it was. “It’s me.”

“Dad?”

“Yeah.”

A smile tugged at her lips which died a merciless death when she recalled how meek her father had been. “What do you want?”

“I…I got you something.” His breathing seized. She could decipher that he was holding his breath.

“Where’s the witch?”

“She’s out, visiting the doctor.” Well, that’s a first. He usually scolded her for calling her that. “Thing is…. you’re getting a younger sibling.”

“Rahhhhhhhhhh!” Carla charged for the door, fists pumping and hitting it. “You wicked man. You don’t deserve to be called my father!”

“Calm down, Carla.” His voice was soft and soothing from behind the door. But she wasn’t buying it.

“Take me to mum right now!!” Carla yelled. “Or yet still, give me my phone and laptop. You listened to your evil wife and got me locked up like a prisoner!!!”

“It was for the best.”

“I did nothing wrong, Andrews!!!”

He winced at her sudden disrespect but continued. “You’ve been wild ever since….”

“Go away!!!” Her screams and tantrums rattled him, but he didn’t falter. Instead, he continued speaking amidst her screams and after he finished, he walked away.

Her sobs were the most gut wrenching and heartbreaking one ever. Not even when they found out he cheated on their mum. Not even when he had the audacity to fight for custody and make the divorce a messy one. Or even when the witch started moving mad and grounded her for writing vile things on her blog about her.

She was resilient. After her phone and laptop were confiscated, she used the TV to write on her blog and connect to social media. Though, rather slow compared to her devices she gained sympathizers and a trauma lawyer who was willing to fight their case pro-bono. Her mom and brother didn’t give up on her either, until Andrews brought up a restraining order, preventing them from seeing her.

*

“What do you mean it failed?!” Stephanie hissed, slamming her palms on the desk. They were in the conference room with her parents, three lawyers and her son. The room sat on the top floor of her father’s company – a space cleared of all staff under strict orders. They were all gathered around a round table, brainstorming their way out of their current mess. Martin flipped and shuffled the Rubik’s cube as he stared out the sophisticated floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city in brooding silence. The ceiling was painted a clean white, a sharp contrast to the grey of the wall, with a large sconce suspended from above, casting a soft glow across the room.

“Well, try again.” Her father said, his calm face not betraying the storm raging behind his eyes. “Meet highly qualified judges, appeal to them or….”

“…we can blackmail them to take the case.” His wife said beside him, patting him to calm his anger.

“No, granny.” Martin broke his silence with a sigh. The case was wearing them all out. “We don’t want to take the dirty route. If words get out, we’ll lose Carla forever.”

“Your son is right.” The pro bono lawyer said, half scanning his clients and his colleagues. “We don’t want a temporary fix, but a permanent one.”

“Then fix it!” Stephanie yelled, losing her patience. “I haven’t seen or heard from my daughter in weeks!”

“Her last blog was five days ago.” Martin said, scrolling through his phone. “Can’t we submit this as evidence?”

“Well, I don’t think….” Grandpa’s lawyer began with a counter reply when Stephanie’s lawyer cut him off.

“I think we can.” She said, a confident smirk playing on her lips, as she looked up from her phone. “You all need to see this.”

*

Help had come. She knew it and sensed it – the day someone called her attention from outside the window.

“I always notice you staring out the window with a sullen look plastered on your face.” The girl called out from the street. “Are you in some kind of dilemma?”

Carla sighed, and her gaze traveled towards her room, listening for noises outside her door.

“Don’t worry,” The girl said. “They are out.” A beat passed before she continued. “I’m very observant. I’m Briana.”

“Carla.”

“I know. I follow your blog and like the way you write.” Briana spoke, moving closer to the building as she did. “Carlasays. Though a lame blog name, forgive me.”

At this, Carla laughed. She thought so too but couldn’t come up with a better name.

Briana continued, “You’ve had some awful experience and…”

“Are you here to help?” Carla asked briskly.

“Yes, what do you need?”

And that’s how Carla began to buy her path to freedom. The following days, they both watched and listened for her father and the witch’s movements, and when they were gone, Briana brought her a phone, cam recorder and an editing tool.

Carla grunted as she hoisted the box up, then called down to Briana. “In.” She made quick arrangements and set everything up, before yelling back down. “I’d try to be done in like forty-five minutes.”

“Okay, I’d be back.”

She drew back the curtain and pushed her desk to the door just in case they return, and after setting up, she hit record and connected the camcorder to the phone. And she was live. Attaching the link to her blog page, she began speaking.

*

“Th-at’s my daughter.” Stephanie cried reaching for the phone. “She looks so pale.”

“Shhh.” Grandpa said. “Let’s hear my brilliant baby.”

“Screen record the entire thing.” Martin suggested and as the lawyer moved her fingers to do so, she stopped.

“Your girl’s brilliant.” She spoke. “She attached it to her blog, so we can still…”

“My father is a serial cheater. His name is Andrews Caine.

Hello, everyone. It’s your girl Carla Caine – author and owner of Carlasays. I was just told the name is lame.” She let out a dry chuckle before continuing.

“Still record this.” Granny ordered, adjusting her glasses to see Carla’s image on the screen.

“…. not the first time he was cheating. She forgave him many times, and he somehow found another woman. He was – is – a deadbeat father, only showing up for myself and Martin when it’s convenient for him. And because he had no money, he sucks up to women who do. A cheapskate, I’d say.

“He found the next big thing. Evelyn always got what she wanted—calm, controlled, and without fuss. She saw me as a problem to be managed, not cared for. Discipline was her method; cold, calculated, and unyielding. This was bad news for us. He never apologized for cheating with her and continued with her, so my mum brought up a divorce. I guess that hurt his ego, so he went to the lawyers first, filed for divorce officially and fought for custody – me. And I still wonder why.”

She stared at the timer sitting atop her desk. She had fifteen minutes left.

“Any fan on 7th avenue? Police officer, anyone? I need you to block the road to buy me more time before they get home. So, continuing…. My mom’s been fighting my case along with my grandparents and brother. I love you guys.

“They said she’s lying and proved her wrong in court, said she wasn’t capable to handle two grown children as she’s emotionally down, and they left my big brother with her to take care of her, so my dad and his witch can better care for me.

“That is a lie guys. I’ve been locked up since I started blogging about my personal life. Shout out to Briana who got me these devices for my live video. My mum and brother got slapped a restraining order weeks ago, and I’ve been living in hell. Starved, kept away from the rest of the world – in short, imprisoned.”

“I only ask for justice for my mum and for us. We did nothing wrong. Nothing at all.” She broke into tears, taking time to compose before continuing. “We got a pro bono lawyer, thank you for joining the rescue team. I still need judges to approve my case so I can be set….”

She was startled by a sudden noise behind her.

She turned just in time to see the witch had managed to climb through her window. Before she could react, the witch lunged for her, shoving her off the desk. Fortunately, the camera was tilted sideways by the movement, capturing the chaos.

“Helppppppp!!!” Was her last cry before the witch ended the live video.

“You got that, right?” Martin asked the lawyer who nodded. “She may take it down from the link.”

“My – My baby girl.” Stephanie sobbed as Martin rushed to her side, patting her. “She’s probably being beaten up right now.”

Grandpa hissed. “Get to work! Work your asses off and bring back my baby girl!”

“W-wait.” Granny cried, clutching the phone. “She – She has a secret camera set up. It just came on.”

Briana had done a good job in getting her equipment for the live video, and along with that, they had a master plan of how to operate it. The secret camera was a backup plan, activated and connected to her blog page when she said a secret word.

And there it was, undeniable evidence that Carla was being assaulted, though fans came in with the police to her rescue before further damage could be done to her body.

“The restraining order has been nullified.” The pro bono lawyer announced, still staring at his laptop.

Martin was the first to spring to his feet, heading for the door, others in tow.

He whispered under his breath, hoping it wouldn’t be too late.“I’m coming to get you out of there, Carla.”