Milly

Hey, Milly, wait up!”
Came a male voice from the depths of the dimly lit corridor. Milly span around to face the man hurrying to catch up with her, with an angry expression and a deeply furrowed brow.
“That’s Dr Reynalds to you.” She spat as the young man drew level, his cheeks slightly pink from the hundred yard dash. At hearing her reply he grinned, flashing white teeth from within his dark beard.
“Oh, come on, you’re not still mad are you?” he pouted, trying to look sad, but being betrayed by the sparkle in his hazel eyes. Milly carried on, softening a bit.
“You made me look like an idiot in front of the department head.” She half whined at him.
“Well, it’s a bit of an odd thing to be scared of.” he told her, leading her on down the corridor.
“I’m not scared.” She snapped “I just think its, well, silly.”
“It’s a drawing.”
“Yes.” She agreed
“It’s a drawing of a tree.”
“Yes, I know.”
“It’s a half finished drawing of a tree
“I know what it is Simon.” Milly said sharply, her anger rising again
“What’s so silly about a half finished drawing of a tree?” he asked.
The young woman searched for a reason, and grabbed the first thing she thought of.
“I just don’t think there should be art days at hospitals.” She gabbled walking towards the exit. “Anyway, my shift’s over now, see you tomorrow.” She pulled open the glass door and turned to wave from the doorway. Simon stood in the middle of the lobby smiling at her,
“So you’ve forgiven me Dr Reynalds?” he said cheekily. Milly smiled for the first time that night.
“Goodnight Nurse Graves.” She said accentuating the word ‘Nurse’, before letting the door fall shut behind her and starting the long walk home.

It was dark outside and the persistent drizzle made it the perfectly awful end to a perfectly awful day. Milly moped down the dimly lit path, rain dripping off her nose and running down her back. Just as she reached the main road a loud noise turned her attention right, in time to see the last number 26 driving towards her.
“Damn bus, it’s early!” she hissed to herself stumbling forward. A bramble grabbed her leg causing her to trip into the road, narrowly missing being flattened by a Double Decker bus. Milly yanked her leg from the undergrowth, ignoring the scratches on her ankle and the pain in her wrist from the fall. “Damn brambles” she cursed, slumping to a sit. A car sped past, straight through a puddle, soaking her to the skin. Milly squealed and sprang to her feet. “Damn car!” she shouted after the red sporty thing. “Bloody idiot.” Her mood had darkened considerably since she had left the hospital, so she took it out on a poor unsuspecting tree. All she achieved was a painful toe and a load of water over the head. “Agh!” she screamed in rage “I hate bloody damned arse trees!”
Milly turned on her heel and wetly stalked towards home, and the large hill in the way.

The house was dark and the curtains still open when Milly finally reached her tiny semi on the edge of the town. She was absolutely knackered, that was the second time that week she had had to walk home. The last bus was too unreliable for her liking, but she had to work, between her and Daniel they had a lot of debts to pay off. She kicked the bottom portion of wood to open the stiff, old door, and slammed it shut behind her. Leaning against flaking paint and dirty glass Milly was thrown back into her childhood.
Standing in the doorway to her bedroom the small girl breathed unsteadily, looking down the stairs as they disappeared into the inky blackness. She was so thirsty, her mouth full of sand. Shakily she took tiny steps towards the dark mouth gaping up at her. As her hand gripped the banister a glance backwards showed no sign of her bedroom and its safety. So she started downwards, there was no going back now. Halfway down the air was engulfingly black, one more and she would be on the middle step. As her left foot reached down a hand shot through the rails and grabbed her ankle. The sounds of her screams woke up the whole house. Even after all lights were on and the hand was shown to be her brothers, Milly still hadn’t calmed down for an entire hour. She had spent the next five years in that house edging down the stairs with her back against the wall. She had hated her brother for grabbing her foot, but what had worried her more was the whispering from the wall, silent screams from a woodland picture. The day after the screaming Milly had thrown that picture down the stairs, it had cost her a week of early nights, but the picture itself had been thrown out, irreparable.
Milly’s eyes were wide and she returned to her old mantra, “there’s nothing in the dark except me, there’s nothing in the dark except me.” Fear froze her for a second; she was still that five year old trapped in the dark between her laughing brother and those screaming voices. But the sound of a car brought her out of the past and she slammed a hand on the light switch. Her eyes squinting in the sudden light.
When all the lights were on and all curtains closed Milly relaxed, she sat on the sagging sofa and closed her eyes. A moment later the front door opened and a young man came bundling through, breathing into one of his hands against the cold and shaking out his umbrella. His black hair was soaked, despite the protection, and his coat was dripping.
“God, that weather is horrible.” He said cheerily to nobody in particular, seeing as the hallway was in fact empty. It was then he noticed the still drenched coat on the floor. Picking it up and taking it upstairs he put both his and hers into the airing cupboard to dry. He then bounded down the stairs two at a time and jumped onto the end of the sofa to join Milly.
“I had a great day today Mills, all of the children have improved in their daily tasks. And I’m still adamant Joshua is a genius; he was explaining to me this morning about some of the GCSE maths he’s learning.” It was then he noticed Milly’s expression. “Bad day love?”
“It was awful!” she sighed “There’s this artist and he’s drawing this big tree with the kids. You know I have that thing about trees, but I told Simon, and now he thinks I’m an lunatic. And he told the head of radiology and the chief resident, I looked like a fool. Then I missed my damned arse bus, fell over and got drenched, then I had to walk home in the rain.” She sighed and allowed herself to be drawn into a hug. Daniel kissed the top of her soggy head, “Go run yourself a bath, I’ll make dinner.” He told her softly.
“Thanks Dan.” She replied through a face full of jumper “Does this mean baked potato again?” she asked with the smallest of smiles.
“Hey, you can’t cook either!” he chuckled; glad she had cheered up a bit. She turned to look up at him in puzzlement.
“Joshua? Isn’t he ten?”