something happened in the library

something happened in the library today. I was on the second floor looking at a book on the 'for reshelving' shelf and I could hear crying, I thought from downstairs. I automatically assumed it was a baby or a small child, but something about the sound made me very uneasy. a slow, dropping uneasiness that slunk within me as I continued to read. perhaps it was because the library seemed a strange place for children- but maybe because of the raw distress of the noise- I thought what if someone’s being attacked? and then I thought, does that even matter? why should it be deemed ok for a child to be upset just because it seems to be commonplace? anyway, I assumed it was such a child.

I started down the stairs thinking maybe I could smile or wink at the baby and distract them as I went past. but as the sound got nearer it took on shapes, patterns- repetition- almost, words? and they were- bellowed and punched out in sobs- ‘he’s’. I saw the top of a head of a girl kneeling by the balconyin the square stair well- ‘he’s punishing’- so small but hugely sounding- ‘punishing me’- ‘he’s punishing me’- over and over, her mouth all flattened out and contorted. ‘he’s punishing me’. red-mouthed, and faced as I came down the stairs.

there were two men kneeling by her, but she was staring straight ahead, straight past them. ‘maybe try some water’, one thin grey man said, softly, and offered her a plastic cup. it looked somehow dirty to me or something- out of place like litter in a field. ‘he’s punishing me, he’s punishing me’. ‘maybe some water-’ he repeated in exactly the same tone.

by now I was extremely tense- my legs walked mechanically past them, weighted on every step- relieved that she wasn’t alone so I didn’t have to face her directly and guilty about my relief. everything became grave as I walked outside into the rain, people’s faces on the ground floor solemn and closed. I turned with panic in my hands from the door and a woman in a bright anorak walked hurriedly past me with a child clasping her wet sleeve- who paused at the sound resonating from the open window, wide-eyed, and looked up at me completely.