The Broken

by A. L. Frances

  “Good morning, Eric.”

  Matthew finds a spot and parks up. He sees himself as equal to everyone who works at the company, all eighty-seven of them. Parking is on a first come, first serve basis. The only parking rule is that all staff must park their vehicles alongside one another. Matthew strongly believes that first impressions count. Reaching into the side of the car door, he grabs his phone and places it inside his silk-lined pocket. He picks up his briefcase and, for a moment, sits back. Taking his phone back out of his pocket, he checks his messages. There are multiple missed calls and messages from various people, but Matthew has not one missed call or even a message from the one person whose name he desires to see: Jess. With disappointment and confusion fast spreading across his face, he pulls up Jess’s contact number.

  “Where did you go?”

  Matthew remains deep in thought for a moment.

  Suddenly, he feels a slight sense of guilt for losing his cool this morning and embarrassing his daughter. He decides to text Eve:

  Darling, I’m sorry.

  As he steps out of the car and walks towards the building, he makes a mental note of the registration plates of the cars neatly lined up in the car park. He smiles. Matthew knows exactly who’s in the office. He enters the high-rise, brown brick building through the rotating glass doors. The simple external structure belies the magnificence of the interior. As soon as you enter, you’re greeted by huge silver letters that spell out “Honey Productions”, centrally positioned and standing proud. With Lauren’s irreplaceable stamp all over it, the interior design of this building is unique. In the entrance area, there are several identical meeting rooms, divided by glass partitions. Each room has a glistening red door with a black long modern handle. Inside, there is a long glass table, surrounded by ten high-back red leather chairs. The rooms also all have a seventy-two inch flatscreen television positioned on a white cabinet. At present, all of the meeting rooms are occupied. Honey Productions is extremely busy. People are buzzing around the building. Making his way towards the oversized curved glass reception desk, Matthew is greeted by his charming, friendly and often hyper receptionist, Daniel.

  “Good morning, Matthew.”

  “Good morning, Daniel. Any messages for me?”

  “Yes, you’ve got an urgent call from Mr Hews. Erm, something about voiceover issues. Then, another from Vera, Bill Hades’s PA. She wants you to call her back when you get the chance. What else was it? Oh, damn… erm.” Tapping a pencil on his head, Daniel tries to remember the final message. “I’m sure I wrote it down somewhere...”

  “I tell you what, email me.”

  “Okay, will do, Matthew.”

  Grabbing a newspaper and placing it under his arm, Matthew makes his way over to the glass lift and presses the button. As he waits patiently for the lift’s arrival, Daniel shouts one final message.

  “Ah ha, found it. A lady called Jess rang for you this morning. Let me see, let me see, nope, she didn’t leave a message, just a name.”

  Matthew immediately heads back to Daniel.

  “Jess?”

  Pausing, Daniel looks at his notepad and begins quickly flicking through the pages.

  “Yes, erm, she said her name was Jess but, she didn’t want to leave a message.”

  “Are you sure she didn’t say anything else, anything at all?”

  Confused by Matthew’s reaction, Daniel replies, “No.”

  “Erm, it’s okay, I’m sure she’ll call back.”

  Matthew then makes his way back to the lift. Hearing a ding as the glass lift arrives, he steps in, presses five, and as the doors close he shuts his eyes. Now alone with his thoughts, Matthew feels an overwhelming surge of guilt.

  He leans his back against the glass, and without warning the memory of a very significant event appears in his mind. His eyes remain closed and he smiles.

  It’s Matthew wedding day. The room is white, fresh and he’s surrounded by orange and yellow flowers that create a radiant glow. Standing tall in his navy-blue suit, the only sound he can hear is each deep breath he takes as he waits in anticipation for the arrival of his soul mate. Beaming brighter than the stars, he is the proudest man alive. Not once in the lead up to the wedding has he experienced nerves; he can’t wait to commit his life to Lauren.

  Matthew sees the giant mahogany doors begin to open. With his hands placed behind his back, he looks down and takes a deep breath in and, as he raises his head, there she is. Standing strong and beaming with pride in her white lace, fitted wedding dress, is his soul mate. Her smile is brighter than the stars. Tears of pride, tears of joy and tears of love fall down his face as she gracefully glides down the aisle, making her way towards him.

  Matthew once again hears ding as the lift arrives at his floor. He feels the floor bounce slightly, bringing him out of his vision and sadly back into his reality.

  Regaining his posture, he steps out of the lift and begins to walk past the desks of his colleagues, greeting each of them with a smile.

  “Good morning, Matthew.”

  “Good morning, Sarah.”

  “Good morning, Mr Honey.”

  “Ha-ha, good morning, Jack. What have I told you? Matthew is fine.”

  “Sorry, Mr Honey, I mean – Matthew.”

  “Good morning, Matthew. I’ve sent you an email regarding filming at the Tattoo Convention in Surrey.”

  “Good morning, Esme. Oh, that’s great, thank you. Did you manage to get some quality footage for me?”

  “Yeah, oh my God, the event was great. Just you wait till you see what me and James captured on camera. You’re gonna be jealous that you didn’t go.”

  “Ha-ha, I’m sure I will. Thanks again for covering for me at such short notice.”

  “No problem, just don’t you go forgetting my Christmas bonus.”

  “Never would.”

  Smiling, Matthew approaches his office. He unlocks the door and as he’s about to enter, he’s stopped.

  “Matthew, is everything okay?”

  “Morning, Christina. Yeah, sure, why’d you ask?”

  “Well, Eve sent a text to Melissa the other night, suggesting she was going to…” She lowers her tone. “End it all. She only just told me this morning when I drove her to school. I thought she’d been acting weird, recently but I just assumed it was, you know, that time of the month.”

  “Oh, Christina, I’m so sorry, yeah Eve’s fine now. Well, I say now… what it was… well, I… erm, keep this to yourself.”

  “I promise.”

  “I actually got chatting to a woman the other day.”

  “A woman! Matthew, really?”

  “Yes, a woman, shh, keep ya voice down. Well, I invited her for tea and after that pretty much the rest is a blur.”

  “How was Eve about it? Do you need me to talk to her?”

  “At first she was horrified. Actually, she was furious. And then, strangely enough, she was, I think, just fine with it.”

  “Matthew, what do you mean, you think?”

  “Listen, Christina, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told you. Thanks for letting me know, I’ll have a chat with her later. You busy today?”

  “Well, I’m here if you need me. I’ll let Melissa know in a minute, she’s been worried sick about her. Nope, not particularly busy today, just passing through to try and book some new appointments and check my emails.”

  “New appointments, that’s what I like to hear. You and Lauren always were the twin sister queens of sales.”

  “Ha-ha, you know this. See you later.”

  “See you later. Oh, tell Dave the rave I said hey.”

  Matthew enters his office and places his briefcase down on the floor at the side of the two-seater black leather couch next to the doorway. Walking over to his solid oak desk, as he places the newspaper down he notices the lig
ht on his office phone is flashing. He presses the hands-free button and play.

  “You have three new messages and seven saved messages. To listen to new messages, press one. To listen—”

  Matthew interrupts and presses one. He makes his way to the window, placing his hands behind his back. The voicemail messages begin playing out.

  “First message received today at seven forty-five a.m. Beep. Matthew, it’s Bill, call me when you get this. Beep.

  “Second message received today at seven fifty-eight a.m. Beep. Hi, Matthew, it’s Laura calling from TLC Operatives, could you please check the edits I’ve sent across to you? Many thanks. Beep.

  “Final message received today at eight thirty-six a.m. Beep. Hi, Matthew. It’s Vera, Bill Hades’s PA, can you give me a call when you get this, please? Many thanks. Beep.

  “End of messages. To listen to these messages again, press one.”

  Making his way over to his desk, Matthew lifts the receiver and puts it down to end the call.

  As he peers out of the huge window from the fifth floor, he’s surprisingly disappointed. Matthew thought at least one of the messages might have been from Jess. Standing alone with his thoughts, he hears chitter chatter and laughter coming from his colleagues outside his office; he smiles at their happiness. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out the piece of paper containing the number Daniel wrote down and walks over to his desk. Much like his home, the layout is immaculate and not a single item leans so much as a centimetre out of place. Putting the piece of paper containing Jess’s number down, he peers across to the family photograph of him, Lauren and Eve. Suddenly he feels an overwhelming surge of sadness.

  “God only knows how much I miss you.”

  No sooner has he spoken these words than Matthew feels his phone vibrating inside his pocket. He pulls it out and sees Jess’s name flashing like a strobe light. Before he knows it, he’s answering the call.

  “Hello, Matthew Honey speaking.”

  “I was worried about you.”

  He smiles.

  Eve sits at the front of the class in her English lesson. She’s daydreaming about nothing of any significance when suddenly her teacher, Ms Phelps, bangs a book on her desk. She jumps with fright, the unexpected movement shifting her back into reality.

  Eve flicks through the pages, desperately trying to work out where the class are up to. English isn’t her favourite subject. She considers herself a creative, free spirit, and it doesn’t help that Ms Phelps is extremely strict. She believes children should only be seen and never heard. Ms Phelps’s classroom has the same eerie energy as her gloomy appearance. She looks as though she has never been loved and gets dressed in the dark every day. Lipstick is always plastered across her teeth. This isn’t her only unattractive trait; she always has an overbearing stench of coffee breath. It’s disgusting. During Ms Phelps’s classes, pupils are not permitted to speak unless she authorises them to do so.

  “Now, in complete silence. That means no reading out loud. I want you all to read the following highlighted passages on your worksheets. Make notes on the grammatical errors, as I will be testing you on this in the next five minutes, before the end of class.”

  There’s a sudden tap on the window of the classroom door and Ms Phelps leaves the room. Once the door’s shut and Ms Phelps is out of sight, Eve hears mocking words and laughter coming from the girls at the back of the class. It’s the same group of cruel girls who were taunting her this morning.

  “Oh, my name’s Eve. I get my daddy to stick up for me.”

  “Ha-ha, yeah, even though I’m a murderer and I killed my mum.”

  “I know, he probably doesn’t even know he’s next. Am I right, girls? Ha-ha.”

  The girls all laugh loudly, satisfied with their bullying intentions.

  “Enough!” Eve shouts, her head down.

  Ms Phelps immediately bursts back into the room.

  “Evelyn Honey, how dare you shout in my classroom!”

  Eve, the girl who would normally cower away and hide in the corner crying until her eyes were sore, is now the complete opposite. Much like her dad earlier, she’s unable to control her emotions. Unable to stop the rage from growing inside of her. The pencil she holds in her hand snaps. Sharp shards of wood penetrate her skin and blood slowly drips out. Completely oblivious to this, Eve digs the pencil further into the palm of her hand. As her fury grows, her grip gets tighter. Eve’s chest begins pulsating up and down as her breathing rapidly increases. Her eyes suddenly become overcast. As this new energy takes over each blood vessel, her sight has been overpowered, and her eyes are now jet-black. Not a patch of white can be seen. Her head remaining down, Eve thinks of one thing only. Her mind and all her energy are completely focused on the girls at the back of the class.

  The girls simultaneously place their hands over their ears, pressing them tightly. It’s as though they’re desperately attempting to block out sound, but no sound can be heard within the walls of the classroom. Each girl has a pained expression on her face and they all start screeching at the tops of their voices. This group of cruel bullying girls, who ordinarily feed from the evil energy they all share, now look vulnerable. No longer do they look as though they should be feared. No longer do they look strong. These bitchy cruel girls are weakened, as their minds are being taken over by the unknown.

  All the other pupils in the classroom panic, jumping from their chairs. Most of them don’t look back and leave their belongings. Once every single innocent pupil has frantically burst out of the classroom, a gust of wind begins to blow. The heavy brown door bangs and the door locks itself. The girls, now curled up on the floor, are still covering their ears as they screech louder than ever, one after the other.

  The view from the window of the classroom is no longer bright and clear. Deep grey clouds materialise, and the outside world appears to be within complete darkness. Much like the storm forming outside, the angrier Eve gets, the darker the mist in her jet-black eyes becomes. Gripping the pencil, she holds tightly onto the table, then begins to drag it towards her.

  From nowhere, the horrific demonic grey lady appears behind Eve. Her long jet-black hair hangs heavy. With eyes the deepest shade of blood-red, her grey sinful face is impure and terrifying. A sinister black substance drips from the deep cracks surrounding her mouth. Leaning over Eve’s shoulder, this evil entity embraces every second of her possession over this young girl.

  As the possession takes hold and Eve accepts it, her body is no longer pure. Her rage builds and she’s unaware that she’s surrendering to the desires of the demonic creature. A tiny section of her soul is being retained and locked deep within this evil entity’s deceitful black heart. Her black heart that no longer beats. Her black heart that oozes neglect and supremacy. While it holds this carefully selected soul captive, this same unnerving organ is now absorbing Eve’s DNA, making them connect as one. Now there’s no going back.

  As if drawn by a magnetic pull, they stand close together. Eve feels the demonic woman’s breath brushing past her skin. Each exhale is freezing cold. The sinister black substance that drips from the cracks surrounding her mouth begins to gush forth as she separates her lips. Leaving its sickening presence wherever it lands, the black liquid has the stench of death attached to it.

  Seeming content with her control over Eve, she spits out the thick black bloody substance and begins whispering directly into her ear, “Ring a’ Ring o’ Roses – your soul is mine.”

  Eve instantly stands, and with a sudden twitch of her head, the girls who remain in agony on the floor now move their hands around their own throats. They gasp and struggle for air as they begin choking. Eve turns and makes her way towards the back of the class. With every step closer Eve gets to the girls, they struggle to fight for their lives.

  Ms Phelps, frozen with fear, watches the disturbing unnatural events unfold. This strong, overpowering w
oman has, much like the cruel bullying girls, lost her voice. Like a statue, she stands at the blackboard next to the book cabinet by the doorway. Ms Phelps, unfortunately, didn’t make it out of the classroom before the door was locked. She is being forced to watch the events taking place against her own will. There is not so much as a twitch of her facial features.

  Reaching the girls, Eve bends down. Her eyes are so black they form mirrors, showing a reflection of the desperate girls. Uncontrollably choking and unable to beg for release, each girl has fear plastered across her face. As their own hands tighten around their necks, their eyes begin to protrude from their sockets. The struggle to breathe gets too much and the lack of oxygen to the brain begins taking its toll; their eyes start to roll slowly towards the back of their heads. Eve’s now satisfied with their suffering and, just as they’re all about to pass out, she leans across and says, “Ti libero per ora.”

  The girls, along with Ms Phelps, who falls to the floor, instantly lose consciousness.

  The demonic evil entity looks satisfied at Eve’s ability to receive commands and willingly surrender. Making her way over to Eve, she leans to her ear once more and whispers, “Welcome to the dark side.”

  With her final words spoken, the evil entity disappears. Eve stands. The girls remain in the same position. They are motionless and silent on the floor. Their eyes are wide open, bright red and swollen. A faint line begins to appear on the surface of the skin around their necks. As the oxygen once again circulates around their bodies, this faint line develops a deep red bruised tone, leaving the mark of strangulation on their skin.

  Feeling a sense of euphoria at this confirmation of her bullies’ intense suffering, Eve calmly makes her way back towards her desk, collects her belongings and walks towards the classroom door. With every step she takes, her eyes slowly revert to their normal tone. As the mist leaves her eyes, the intense effect of the possession leaves Eve’s body.

  Making no attempt to look back, Eve steps over Ms Phelps and glances down at the bullying teacher. Lay in a trance-like state, Ms Phelps is flat on her back, with her head facing up. Her eyes are wide open, but you can see she lacks full consciousness. This once strong woman is frozen with fear. She looks as though her soul has left its physical form as a tear slowly ventures down her motionless face.