Beast

by Matt Wesolowski

  —She was popular?

  —If you like that sort of thing, I suppose. She hid who she really was behind a mask; all bleached hair and fake tan. Lads went crazy for her. She was pretty I suppose. She was nice as well, at first.

  —What do you mean?

  —She was just a genuinely nice person, at first; loved animals, always hanging around down near Myrmirth stables, feeding the horses. But then she had to change. I watched it – I could see her change. It was weird; she used to smile but that smile turned into a stupid pout or a scowl. She would do that ‘Oh my god!’ thing under her breath if a teacher ever asked her to do anything. I watched Gemma Hines climb every rung on that ladder to get to the top, and I saw her leave a lot of valuable stuff behind to get there. Shedding all of who she was to become popular.

  —But isn’t that just growing up? People have to find their place?

  —I suppose. It just made me sad, that’s all, to see what she went from, and then what she became.

  —Which was?

  —By the time she had that party, she was fully fledged. She was one of those who just constantly posted selfies, I mean, like at least ten, sometimes fifteen a day. All the same, duck pout, with captions like ‘felt cute might delete xx’ that sort of thing. It was just for her to get likes and comments off lads – that’s all that seemed to matter to her. It didn’t matter what the attention was, so long as it was attention. Hence the party.

  —What are you saying?

  —I’m saying there’s more ways to get attention than just taking selfies. As I said – I was at that party. And what happened to Gemma – everyone there said she did it willingly. And she let Solomon and the others call their mates because it was going to go online, the video of it. It didn’t matter if she looked stupid or ridiculous, the whole party was going to be massive online, and that’s all that mattered to her.

  —You’re saying that Solomon, George and Martin took Gemma willingly to the bathroom, locked her in and then trashed her house. But she wanted them to. To what end? To film it and get more ‘likes’ than Elizabeth?

  —To me, it just looked like chaos; it looked like someone had it in for Gemma Hines. It’s fucked up isn’t it? I don’t know for sure. What I do know was that people will do anything, I mean anything to get ‘internet famous’.

  —That’s sad.

  —Yeah. It really was. It is. That’s all some girls lived for, most of the lads too! Likes and comments. Nothing else seemed to mean anything to them. I hated all that, I still do. It’s like poison, it’s like an addiction; it is an addiction. People are just obsessed with themselves, with validation. That’s why so many people are hooked on their phones, constantly checking their social media. I saw that start at school, and now adults are doing it. It’s fucking tragic.

  —That seems more Elizabeth’s world than Solomon Meer’s though.

  —I think Solomon Meer posted his ‘Shopping Trolley Sledge’ video just for fun. I think he had no idea it would go viral. But then Elizabeth wanted a piece of that.

  —The three at the party though: Solomon, George and Martin. They were acting together, right?

  —That’s the thing. That’s what everyone thought but … I don’t know. I just didn’t see it like that.

  —Really? How did it seem to you?

  —Like, Solomon Meer didn’t really do anything. A few people said that George Meldby and Martin Flynn locked Solomon and Gemma in the bathroom. Solomon Meer got the blame for it all, because … that’s just what happened to Solomon Meer. He got the blame. A bit like me I suppose.

  —That’s interesting. It raises something else I’d like to ask you about. Something I’m struggling with is why would Elizabeth have gone to meet Solomon Meer on the night she died? Can you offer any insight?

  —She would have gone to meet anyone if she thought there was something in it for her. If she could get something out of it. That sounds really harsh, doesn’t it? That’s why I’ve never really spoken up. That’s why I’ve never told anyone about who Elizabeth was, what she was like. Statues and snowmen. People don’t want to see her that way.

  —I’ve found there’s often several sides to every story.

  —Yeah. I know. That’s why … Listen. There was one other thing about my sister and Solomon Meer. I can tell you, but there’s not much I know about it. I think you’ll just be frustrated.

  —You never know…

  —I mean, no one knows about this … except my parents. And Elizabeth of course.

  —Go on…

  —It’s a pretty weird one. I dunno what to make of it all. I was down here at the time, but apparently, just a few days before Elizabeth was murdered, Solomon Meer was at the house. At my parents’ house.

  —What? Really?

  According to Jason, his parents woke up in the middle of the night to strange noises. Thinking they were being burgled, Mr Barton went to investigate, armed with a cricket bat, and came face to face with Solomon Meer who was trying desperately to escape through the front door.

  This is something that has never surfaced before, as far as I’m aware. I’m genuinely shocked. Jason nods and sits back. This feels like his trump card. Again, I get the impression that I need to react in the correct way to this revelation. My question has to be the right one. This feels like my last chance.

  —What happened? Did they call the police?

  —No. I never could understand why not. According to my dad they’d ‘dealt with it there and then’.

  —Dealt with what? What was Solomon Meer doing in the house?

  —They would never say. They said it was ‘dealt with’ and that was all I needed to know. That was my parents all over. They knew best. But then Elizabeth was killed a few days later.

  There are no police records that I am aware of, nor anything else that relates to this alleged incident. It’s impossible for me to know if it is true. This has been the hook behind Jason’s lure. Now I need it to pull me in the right direction.

  Jason shrugs and tells me that’s all he knows about it. He tells me it was this sort of attitude from his parents that made him move as far away from them as he could.

  —I think they were too bothered about how it would make them look. They didn’t want to associate with someone like Solomon. They put that above their own safety. And Elizabeth’s I guess.

  —What I don’t get is why on earth your parents didn’t call the police. Especially after what happened.

  —Not gonna lie. I think my parents preferred stories to what was really going on. They were good at telling their own. About us, about me and Elizabeth – the black sheep, the good daughter. I’ve got a feeling that this might have scuppered that story.

  —But why?

  —My guess is as good as yours.

  —And what is your guess? Are your parents to blame for Elizabeth’s death?

  —I know my parents and my theory … well … it’s just a theory, like. I think there may have been something going on there, something my family didn’t want Ergarth knowing about.

  —Between Elizabeth and Solomon Meer?

  —Like I say, your guess is as good as mine. But let’s just say my parents liked to be seen in the best possible light and associating with Solomon Meer would have been their worst nightmare. They were that superficial.

  —Jason, I need to know more about this.

  —That’s why you’re here though, isn’t it? To find out who locked Lizzie in the tower? I couldn’t find out anything about what happened that night, but maybe you could? If you ask the right people.

  —OK, I’m asking you right now; why didn’t you tell the police that Solomon Meer had been in your parents’ house a few days before your sister was killed.

  —It’s almost like you haven’t been listening. Elizabeth was the one with the power in that house. Not Mam, not Dad, least of all me. You’re not asking the right question – the question is why Elizabeth didn’t want anyone knowing Solomon Meer was in the house. There’s a s
tory there that needs telling and you’re the one to tell it.

  Something suddenly clicks and I prepare myself for Jason to shut up shop and terminate our interview.

  —Jason. Who wrote the calling card on your parents’ wall?

  He smiles and puts a finger to his lips.

  —I’m Elizabeth’s brother so I can tell you one thing about her: all her actions fed and nurtured one thing: herself. It’s hard to see it from the outside, but I lived it, and I lived through it. I saw her every day. Every single thing she did was thought out, planned, and devised to make her look better or make someone else feel worse. The day I left home, when I realised Mam and Dad wouldn’t see it, I swore I’d devote my life to protecting those who can’t protect themselves from people like my sister. Who locked Elizabeth Barton in the tower? Lizzie B did.

  I’ve told you some of the story. I think you need to find out some more. I think you need to know everyone’s story. You know all about stories. You were told a story about your life. You never questioned it. Not until your hand was forced. Force this story too. You’ve got three more episodes to find out why I kept my mouth shut about Solomon Meer that night too.

  Jason stands up. I begin to ask him to stay for one more question but stop. He won’t. He’s said his piece; shattered the image of his late sister and is now leaving me to pick through the shards.

  So where next? I feel like there are some significant questions about Elizabeth and her killers that need more perspectives, that need answers.

  Were Solomon Meer, George Meldby and Martin Flynn on some warped righteous mission to rid the world of narcissistic young women? Was the incident at the party with Gemma Hines a trial run? What on earth was Solomon Meer doing at the Barton house? I initially subscribed to the vague theory that some type of online rivalry between Elizabeth Barton and Solomon Meer might be at the heart of what happened. But now, I feel I’ve drifted even further from the truth.

  In this episode, I feel like I’ve learned more about Elizabeth Barton than Jason. I’ve learned that some stories don’t get told and that there are two sides to every tale. I want to put the differing views we now have of Elizabeth in context, because she no longer has a voice.

  That’s where my path leads next.

  I have been Scott King and this has been Six Stories.

  Until next time.

  DISD CHALLENGE: Day 4 | Lizzie B

  698,234 views. March 1, 2018

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  Lizzie B

  3,689 subscribers

  * * *

  A nip and a punch for the start of the month,

  I’ve only got two days of this one left,

  Cos in two days I’m going to meet a vampire,

  In two days, I’m going to die!

  Hey everyone! It’s March and it’s still snowing. Yay, I’m so unbelievably happy. Can you tell from just how happy my voice is? I love being constantly cold and everything being shut. It’s so great.

  Can I just ask that everyone keeps up with the giving; not just #givingmondayback, but Tuesday and Wednesday too – all the days, because it’s just horrible out there and people are suffering!

  To be fair, I’m suffering too! Look guys, I’m wearing gloves! Indoors! It’s that cold, really. I just can’t get my fingers warm.

  Thank you so much for the love for the last challenge! Look at these bee-yootifal flowers! You guys are so kind!

  No, I’m not going into how I did it, but isn’t he just totally adorable? I can’t get enough of his little face. I promise we’ll go and see him in a minute.

  Right now we’re on day four of the Dead in Six Days challenge and I tell you something, Vladlena the Vampire’s got her work cut out because I’m smashing it. Big time!

  So I’m now just getting his milk together – he needs to drink this formula stuff, so that’s just here. Just giving it a shake. It’s got to be warm, too. Listen … listen to that … can you hear him? Oh my God, I’m going to die of cuteness. He knows I’m coming with his milk, bless his little face.

  So just before we go see him, I need to tell you all that the votes are in! No, he’s not going to be called Sheepy McSheepFace, even though that name was a close second. We’re going to call him … Billy! Billy the Lamb, or Billy the Baby Ram I suppose! He’s just so totally adorable, so fluffy and cute and … there you go … you can hear him make that lovely little bleating noise!

  Look, I’m going out into the garden and … oh my that’s cold. Billy! Billy! Come here!

  Look, here he comes. Aw, here you go little guy, here’s your milk. Oh my God, I’m totally never eating meat again … can you believe this little guy was going to slaughter? Thanks guys but I’m really not a hero at all. Just gonna put it out there to say it’s lucky he was rescued and, of course, I may or may not have had something to do with that!

  Now he’s safe and warm and … OK … OK I’ll stop.

  Yeah, so my parents weren’t best pleased that their garden shed is now a home for Billy the Lamb. Mind you, it’s not like they’re ever here. If you want to see how I turned the garden shed from a grimy, spidery place to store the lawnmower into a little lamb heaven, the link is below, give it a clickaroo and I’ll see you back here in a bit.

  So task number three has been the most popular one yet. If you follow me on Instagram, I’m Lizzie B there too, and you can see a lot of photos of Billy. He’s Internet famous already – he’ll probably need his own channel soon!

  Anyhoo! That’s enough about the little fluffy one. So cute! So, so cute!

  Now down to the nitty gritty; it’s time for the penultimate Dead in Six Days challenge! Yes, of course, here we go … the lovely Vladlena has been in touch. You’ll see that her next challenge is a little … obscure, shall we say?

  ‘Rob from the Rich, Give to the Poor’ … I mean, it doesn’t sound particularly interesting, does it? I’m getting a whole Robin Hood vibe going on here. But I know you, Vladlena, I know all your tricks! You like some stealing don’t you? What’s that word? A kleptomaniac, you are, or else you’re just trying to get me into trouble! Either way, we need to get more likes and more subs for this next one.

  I’m a little bit dubious about live streaming this challenge as the snow and the weather are really messing with my Internet. Connection’s not great to be honest and I don’t want to disappoint you guys. So watch this space!

  Sub-to-the-scribe, smash the likes, hit the bell icon and that way you’ll know when the next video of Billy the Lamb goes up – I swear, you’ll want to sub just for him!

  Oh and I’ve got three days left to live!

  See you soon!

  Episode 4: Old Photographs

  —Your honour, my name is Harold William Barton. This statement represents the thoughts of myself and my wife, Mildred Ethel Barton.

  When our lovely daughter was taken from us so savagely and prematurely, it decimated our family. Our grief is impossible to describe. Elizabeth was our first child. We watched her grow from a beautiful, cheerful baby into an ambitious and driven young woman. All we have left now are our photographs and memories of our child.

  Elizabeth was a beautiful and successful person, she saw her life as a challenge and strove to master whatever was put before her. Horse riding, gymnastics, football, debating, tennis – Elizabeth took all of these things on and the medals she won are testament to her competitive nature.

  Elizabeth worked hard and never took anything for granted. From a young age we instilled in her a belief that hard work pays off and that life did not give hand-outs. Elizabeth achieved top grades in her studies as well as her extracurricular activities. Elizabeth’s bedroom, still painted in the pink of her childhood, is festooned with medals and rosettes, reminders of all she had achieved and wished to achieve in life.

  Although a grown woman, Elizabeth was not ready to leave home. Maybe we took for granted her presence in our house – her laughter, the sound of her voice and the familiar ding of her phone. It’s now silent and we are poor
er for it. There is an empty space at our kitchen table, an empty space at mealtimes where Elizabeth would sit and talk to us about her days of school, her interests, her hobbies and her activities. If Elizabeth’s younger brother, Jason, who she loved like only a big sister could, was here today, we know he would share our thoughts.

  I would like to tell those who denied us another day with our daughter – in such a callous and devastating way – that it is hard for us to forgive them. We are only human. I wonder, as you snatched our daughter from us, if you knew what it was you were doing.

  What you have taken from us is our reason for being, the reason for our existence. What you have given to us is emptiness, silence and endless questions.

  All we wish for you is that someday you see – and more importantly are able to feel – the true weight of what you have done. For you have not only taken our little girl from us, you have punched a hole in our very being, a hole that we will never fill.

  Please think about this, your honour, during your sentencing: the road to rehabilitation begins with acknowledgement of the weight of a crime. But that is only the first step on a long journey. We, in our grief, are unable to begin our journey. There is no recovery for us. Our pain will last our lifetime and into the next.

  Welcome to Six Stories

  I’m Scott King.

  What you’ve just heard is the impact statement from the Barton family at the trial of Solomon Meer, George Meldby and Martin Flynn. The statement was read to the judge before the sentence was imposed on the three young men.