My heart was hammering as I closed my bedroom door. I leaned against it, almost in fear that the fight was going to follow me up the stairs and into my room.
My back was screaming at me now, forcing me to bend double. It was like my spine was an elastic band retracting from an extra long stretch. Every inch that I bent meant more pain, but I had no choice.
I slid down the door and on to the floor, my knees tucked into my chest, my neck starting to contort in the same way as my back.
My heart pummelled my ribs as my mind raced to make sense of it. What was going on? It wasn’t a panic attack: this was physical. I felt like someone was standing over me, screwing me up into a ball.
I wanted Dad. Needed him and wanted to shout for help, but couldn’t force enough air into my lungs. All I could do was use what breath I had to keep on top of the pain.
Biting cramps rushed through me, each one sending my neck and back into shapes alien to them. I kicked my leg against the door, hoping that the fight downstairs had stopped and someone would hear me, but doubted my efforts would be enough.
Fortunately it was.
At first I mistook the noise for an echo. Thought my kicking was reverberating down the long wooden hall. But the banging kept on going long after I had stopped. Then a voice followed. A voice I didn’t recognize, but it didn’t matter. It was the greatest voice I’d ever heard.
‘Daisy? Can you open the door?’
I managed to twist my head enough to see the door handle straining, then felt the cold of the wood pushing against my back.
‘Whatever it is against the door, you need to move it. We’re worried about you and need to come in.’
There was an urgency to the voice, an unmistakable sense that whatever obstacle was between her and me, it wouldn’t be enough to stop her.
‘It’s me,’ I cried. ‘I can’t move.’
At that point I heard her shout a name I didn’t know, plus a demand to get a doctor. She didn’t know what state I was in, but was sharp enough to know it wasn’t pretty.
‘Daisy, I need you to try really hard to move away from the door. Just enough for me to squeeze through. Can you do that?’
I told her I could despite thinking otherwise. My upper body was completely cramped up now, my neck twisted into my left shoulder as a spasm ripped through it and down my spine. All I could do was swing my legs round, which I did until they hit the door. From there I pushed my legs straight and grimaced as I skidded forward, far enough away for the door to rocket open, a woman’s face appearing around it.
I relaxed a touch when I saw her, mostly because she didn’t look appalled at what she’d found. I don’t know whether it was the relief of seeing someone that swayed me, but she was the most striking woman I had ever seen.
Her face was full and round, her skin a deep shining African brown, dark freckles breaking out across her nose.
As she saw the fear on my face, a long, easy smile stretched into view, a smile that told me, without saying a word, that everything was going to be fine now. That there was nothing I needed to fear.
Pulling herself through the gap in the door, she fell to her knees and cradled my head in her lap. I cried out at the exertion, but it was worth it. She laid her hand across my forehead, pressing gently, sucking the pain away and into her palm.
I forced my eyes up towards her, to be met by the same smile that had appeared at the door.
‘Well, I didn’t think we would meet like this. A handshake is more traditional, but this will do fine. It is great to meet you, Daisy. My name is Adebayo, but everyone calls me Ade.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, tears jumping from my eyes in both pain and relief.
‘Now that is your first mistake. There is no need for sorry. Everything is fine and everything will soon be better. Just relax and trust Ade. Help is on the way.’
It had only been a week since Dad died, but in that time the thought of anyone touching me had seemed horrific. But here, on the cold wooden floor of my new room, being hugged by a complete stranger felt like nothing I’d ever experienced before. It felt like I was being saved.