It had been a normal day, and that terrified her more than anything.

Deep breath. In, out. In, out.

Cathy sat down on the sofa. ‘The doors are locked.’ She said to her self for the hundredth time. Pushing her self up once more she walked over to the front door of her flat. Reaching out she touched the chain that was slid all the way across. She moved her hand to the dead bolt, it was on. ‘See you did it.’ She said as she turned and pressed her back to the door. She had been in the flat less that twenty four hours and she desperate for it to feel like home. Cathy moved back to the sofa and sat down again. Deep breath. In, out. In, out. She just had to keep breathing, keep calm. ‘Today was a good day.’ She said as if forcing herself to believe it.

It had started well. She had opened her eyes and looked up at the white coloured ceiling of the flat. This was it, she had done it. She had got away and managed to get into the flat that she had dreamed for so long could be hers. She had turned and stepped out of bed, made her way to the kitchen and ate the breakfast that she had wanted. It was a first for her. There was no one there this morning telling her what she could and couldn’t eat, no one there telling her where to sit or how to sit. No one there when she got it wrong and revived the first of many slaps to the back of her head for that day. It didn’t stop her though as she settled in on the sofa with a slice of toast from feeling the slap as if it had just happened. It had been what many people would have called a normal day, a boring day. Not getting dressed and just sat in front of the telly. It didn’t escape her though that this was not normal. So beyond what was normal for her.

A bang from out in the hall of the block of flats had her jumping away from the door and her hands flaying to her ears. She could see it all now as if it was happening in front of her. Her father kicking his way through the door making way for her mother to rush in and grab her. They would be dragging her out into the hall and down the four flights of stairs and out to the car park to take her back to their house. The one that at seventeen she had just managed to escape from. There way no way Cathy felt like she could go back, she knew that she wouldn’t survive.

The bang out in the corridor made way for the laughter of a group of people. It wasn’t her parents. Deep breath. In, out. In, out. ‘Just keep breathing.’ She said, just like the social worker had taught her when she had turned up at their office a month ago with the starting of a bruise around her eye and her hair looking as if someone had dragged her around by it, which of course they had. She hadn’t known where to go that day but as she left the house and kept running into town she had ended up outside their offices. She had lied, of course she had. She hadn’t told them that it was her parents she was running from and they just presumed it was a boyfriend, she had gone along with it. She had continued to lie about certain details , but had told the truth when it came to the fact that she needed somewhere to live in order for her to be safe.

Cathy moved back to the sofa and turned the TVs volume up even louder. She wanted to block any further noises from outside the flat, for now those where just too much for her to bare. It had been two weeks since she had arrived at that office, told them she was homeless and had disappeared into a hostel under a false name. Neither of her parents would be looking for a girl who under the authority’s was 17 years old and called Cathy.

She had however no doubt that they would be looking for the twenty year old Rachael that they had kept hidden away for most of her life in the attic of their home, only letting her out of the room when one of them wanted to take out their frustrations.

The hours passed and she stayed where she was, for the first time in forever she spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in front of the telly. When the sun had set and the night fully took over, she took herself off into her bedroom. Today had been her first ever ‘normal day.’ She laid back in the single bed. ‘Today has been a good day.’ She said to herself. ‘So why do I feel so terrified?’