by Jim Ody
He needed something normal back in his life. Before his parents found out the truth of why he was here. The real reason he was back. And why it might be a while before he left. Unless he never said anything.
He’d grown up in the middle of nowhere, sheltered from the evils of city life. The posh kid living in a large country house.
His first night at Uni, he’d cried into his pillow. He’d smothered his own sobs with music so that his roommates wouldn’t hear. It had been the longest night of his life. He felt like he was imprisoned into a life he no longer wanted. The excitement of crossing the county limits had quickly become foreign and scary.
He was a mother’s boy. He didn’t want to admit it, and hadn’t actually considered it until that first night. He wanted to be held by her, and in the morning when she sent him a text message, he broke down. The sound of Patrick Stamp singing about being thankful for the memories did its best to drown out his breakdown. He was living the emo life minus the make- up.
Later that day, he walked out of the building and wandered aimlessly for over an hour. To start with he was in a daze. He felt so out of it he thought he might just keep going and never return. He was so homesick.
Then he met Zack. A guy who couldn’t give a shit, literally about anything. He wore a denim jacket covered in patches of bands Marshall had never heard of. The names dripping in blood and were horror themed. Perhaps it was for a reaction; or maybe he actually liked them.
Very quickly Zack made it known that he had no place for EMO rock. He called it ‘sheep music’. It was listened to by only posh kids who wanted to rebel against their parents, and secretly just wanted to be popular.
Marshall denied listening to the music, instead picking one of the bands on Zack’s jacket and adopting them as his own. It was a risky move, and one easy to be called out on. It turned out the band were angry. And not easy to understand. Thrashing guitar riffs at breakneck speed, double-bass-peddle beats, pounding bass and growling vocals. After two songs, Marshall was longing for something more pop.
But Zack for all of his seriousness, opened up a portal to a world Marshall never knew existed. The dark underbelly of the city.
From that point on the mummy’s boy died, and the melancholy kid emerged. At times, it was exciting. At others it was the scariest thing he’d ever done in his life.
But he felt alive.
Until that night when everything changed.
Little Miss Evil
Chapter 6 - Will
T hey weren’t used to hot tubs. They sat outside, in water up to their chests, and hot bubble tickling them down below.
“This is relaxing,” Fiona sighed, her head tipping back, and her eyes closing.
Will leant over and kissed her exposed neck, which made her jolt and giggle at the same time.
“How about now?” He laughed as she bucked. He sat back to the side of her.
She smiled, and for a while said nothing.
The view from the hot tub was spectacular. Such a contrast from their house in the concrete jungle of the city, that was boxed in and overlooked by a dozen people. Even when there was a gap of residential houses, all you had was a reminder of the failed industries of abandoned factories and warehouses. No doubt these, too, would soon be replaced by winding rabbit warrens of new houses.
Here in front of them, the landscape drastically dropped down steeply. Below they could see a large lake, a number of people were swimming, and enjoying the sun. There were a few boats, nothing grand, just small and available at what appeared to be a camp. The camp the barman was not a fan of.
This was what they wanted from life. If they could swap houses and circumstance, for a simple life here deep in the country, then they’d do it in a heartbeat.
“At some stage we need to talk about it,” she said finally. The bubble of tranquillity burst, as he had been expecting.
“At some stage,” he repeated, but now wasn’t the time. He wanted to forget a little longer. He wanted this to remain the perfect fantasy. A honeymoon of memories.
She turned to say something, but her words were snatched away by the sound of music.
“What’s that?” he said. It was coming from the house.
She frowned. “It sounds like Silent Night?”
He nodded. “It does, but it’s a bloody eerie version.” He carefully got out of the hot tub, and grabbed the towel. “Not to mention it’s summer.”
Fiona looked over the side but made no attempt to join him.
He walked over the decking and into the house. His wet footprints left to dry in the sun.
For a second, he had visions of the blonde-haired girl again. Was she back?
The music was loud. The slow and deep tones of it, coupled with it being nowhere near Christmas time made it seem scarier.
Suddenly the grandfather clock chimed loudly and made him jump. He looked at it and saw it said midnight. Then like a light being turned to fade, daylight disappeared. Everything went dark.
He gulped and looked back behind himself. Everything looked different. Old and in the past. No longer did the house look bright and refurbished, but it was aged and cluttered. All gawdy wallpaper and heavy mahogany furniture.
With trepidation, he walked up the stairs towards the music. His steps now more tentative. He didn’t want to admit how scared he was.
His head whipped around as he heard a noise coming from the bedroom. The light seeped out through the slightly open door, and appeared to be moving. Despite his better judgment, he felt himself being drawn to it. A human moth; His legs moving by themselves.
The fear gripped him. He felt prickles on the back of his neck and down the middle of his back. His stomach was tight – invisible hands balling up his lower intestines with each step.
He pushed open the door.
The body swung back and forth. Lifeless, and armless with blood dripping everywhere.
He dropped to his knees, not realising he was screaming.
Then the music stopped.
From behind, arms grabbed him.
He turned and pushed back at the person.
She screamed, and he felt a sharp pain in his head. Both hands grabbed his temple and his eyes were tightly closed with pain.
And then it stopped. He opened his eyes to find the landing flooded with daylight again.
Fiona was laid on the floor, her towel open and her face looking scared.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked around at the room behind him but there was no longer a body of an old lady swinging. The ceiling and walls now clean and freshly painted.
“What’s wrong,” she asked. “What was that?”
He looked confused; he knew he did. He was wrestling with what his mind had shown him, and he couldn’t rationalise it.
“I-I,” he looked around again for confirmation. “Everything went dark, and I-I…” he stopped. He was suddenly hit with whether he should say anything. It would ruin their time away if he described an old lady hanging from the ceiling in the bedroom.
“What? What is it?”
He took a deep breath, he had to just man up. He had to show he was strong.
“Nothing… Maybe the water was too hot or something. Maybe it’s the stress of the case. I’m really sorry I knocked you over.”
She scooted over to him. They embraced.
“You’re shaking,” she whispered as they held each other tightly.
“It’s probably just the change in temperature,” he said unconvincingly. He knew he’d had the biggest shock of his life. Part of him wanted to just pack up and leave this place. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t be forced back to his mundane life in the city. To face the music and make that huge decision about his future.
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” she said changing the subject. “Go and explore the area?”
He nodded. It sounded a good idea. Maybe it was what he needed. Some fresh air to blow out all the negativity that had been building up inside. It really might’ve been t
he temperature of the water that had made him come over all giddy. He’d been under a lot of stress lately. Was it any wonder he was losing his mind?
They went into the bedroom and slowly changed into their walking gear. For a while silence kept them apart. Two adults with a lot on their mind.
Will couldn’t help it. He stopped and stared at Fiona when she’d pulled her underwear on.
“What?” She said self-consciously as she noticed him staring.
He grinned. “Nothing. You’re very beautiful. I don’t think I tell you that enough.”
She blushed ever so slightly and replied. “He says when I’m almost naked.”
“Is that a bad thing? I appreciate your beauty when I see the most of you?”
“You know what to say to make a woman feel good!”
“Just say?”
She grinned. “Well you have a go!”
A few minutes later and they had left the house, both pushing the episode out of their minds. They held hands and took in the countryside air.
“Wouldn’t it be great to live here?” Will said looking out down the track ahead of them.
He felt Fiona tense slightly, before she replied, “It would.” But the words were loaded with what she wasn’t saying.
Will felt like he was now on shaky ground, but he wanted to push on with the conversation. Life was all about these awkward talks. Without them you could never move on.
“Maybe have a family,” he said tentatively.
That stopped her in her tracks.
She turned to him and grabbed his other hand. “Really?”
His smile was small, and he looked slightly worried, knowing the weight of what he’d just said.
“Yes,” he nodded.
“With me?”
He laughed. “With you! Who else?”
They kissed. Fiona up on tip toes, as Will held her like she was the most important thing in the word.
They stopped when they heard the shuffling of footsteps through the leaves on the ground.
“Might wanna do that someplace else,” a gruff voice bellowed out with displeasure. “Bloody youngsters.”
Will and Fiona couldn’t help but giggle.
A man dressed in a wax jacket, flat cap and brown trousers pushed on by them. He had a shotgun open and resting over his left arm. His face looked like it never smiled.
“Sorry!” Will managed. The guy muttered to himself more words but neither Will or Fiona could work them out. He was heading towards a small lakeside cabin that looked hidden away. It wasn’t easy to see whether it was a hunting cabin or his place of residence.
Ignoring it, Will and Fiona walked on. The path was winding downhill, and they knew it would be a hard slog on the way back up, but it was one of those trails that had to be followed.
The laughter, shouting and splashing got louder, as the lake came into view. A handful of teens were larking around. The reckless abandonment of the young.
The camp was on the other side from where they were, but the teens looked to have come over on a small boat.
As the trees ended, and the path flattened out, Will and Fiona saw a boathouse and jetty. The kids were at the end of it, screaming as they jumped in.
Typical kids.
“Remember being that young?” Will said, nodding over.
“We’re hardly old,” she said almost a little hurt.
Will sighed. “I feel it. My teenage years seem such a long time ago.”
Fiona pulled her hand away from his, and snaked her arm around him. “Being an adult is fun too though, right?”
“Of course,” he said with little conviction. “But look at them. Everything is front of them. They have no responsibilities. They’re―”
“Free?” she finished.
He shrugged. “Sort of.”
“But everyone has to grow up, don’t they?”
He knew that. He was just being silly. Distracted from what he had, to be taken back to what he’d lost.
“Maybe our kids will do that one day,” she added.
That made him smile, and then grin. “Yes. In fact, I might pay for them to come here!”
The lake was large. Over the other side it was bustling with activity, and over to the left, it went off almost as far as the eye could see. It was hardly anything compared to the great lakes of the US, but it was large enough to wonder exactly how deep it went.
“What if we did escape here one day?” Fiona then said, looking up at him with eyes of wonder.
He thought about the city. The complications of living in a fast-paced world. This was what he wanted. Perhaps this was what most people wanted?
“That would be great,” he finally replied, but deep down he knew his life was far too complicated to ever consider it now.
If he was guilty, then freedom, even in the smog-filled city was better than nothing.
Little Miss Evil
Chapter 7 – Carl
C arl had watched his son wander off, with a lack of purpose in each stride. He knew where he was going too. And why not? He would’ve done the same if he’d been twenty years younger.
Tall Trees Campsite held the promise of single ladies. Around each holiday season, there was an influx funnelling to the little town, escaping their lives and ready to let their hair down. They were looking to drink, have fun, and maybe a fling. You just had to be there with a warm smile, and outstretched arms.
If he was completely honest, Carl was a little jealous of his son. That rush of excitement. Spinning the lies they wanted to hear. Being their fantasy. A short-term act that brought much reward. Then a week later they were nothing more than a memory. A fun memory, but a memory nevertheless. And he was young. Carl was left to scoop up the divorced and broken women entering the next stage of their lives, desperate and dragging baggage. There was less chance of shaking them when the holiday was over. But to go for the teenagers made him look weird and pervy. Maybe he was, but who really cared?
If Marshall had inherited half of Carl’s hormones then his expectations of his son would be on point. Who knew, he might even be looking at men. Not that it mattered. It would be the same routine. Ultimately, he wanted his boy to be happy, what ever flavour he chose.
What did matter was that Marshall was back. That meant Carl had to be even more careful. Sneaking around Matilda wasn’t too hard. She was self-medicated most of the time. Zoned out in a book, or painting in her basement studio. Either way she was lost in a made-up world. That gave him all the time he needed.
The family devastation had been both a curse and a godsend.
He looked at his phone, logged on and checked out his profile for messages. He smiled at comments, responded with vague platitudes.
A last glance out the window showed his son disappear towards the path that led to Tall Trees camp. Good lad, he thought.
Although, what else was there to do around there?
He turned back to his phone ready to answer the new message. This was what kept him alive.
And nobody else had a clue. Maybe that was what made it so much fun.
Little Miss Evil
Chapter 8 - Jenny
I t was a warm summer. Every once in a while, a breeze tickled over her welcoming pale skin.
Her stomach twisted as they walked up to the water. She felt so self-conscious. Eyes from all around felt targeted to her. Judging each imperfection. Small boobs and wide hips.
Her friends were giggling to themselves, completely distracted with the expectation of meeting up with the boys.
Jenny saw them larking around. The lads had noticed them, but were pretending not to have, instead showing off. Boys will be boys. In her experience they didn’t mature until they were old men. And then they just stopped working, and went downhill drastically.
Brett was running along the jetty and summersaulting into the water, oblivious to the sign that told him not to do exactly that. Adam was whooping like it was an amazing feat, and Max was sitting in a rubber-ring smiling.
>
Meg quickened her pace, clearly excited to see them again. Nat bounced alongside her giggling, and Jenny now felt a little left out as she dropped back behind. The last one on the shelf.
One of them wolf-whistled. Jenny wasn’t happy with it. Her mum had told her that she should never let a man demean her. She was a person not an object to be sexualised.
“Now the party begins!” Brett shouted, and grabbed the railings. He proceeded to climb out, the water running off him and his muscles tensed and impressive.
“You stay away from me!” Meg said in the giggly way that suggested she wanted him to chase her. Jenny rolled her eyes. From where she was it looked pathetic.
“Come and give me a hug!” Brett said dripping as he broke into a jog.
“Jump in!” Adam shouted out, making it sound like it was to all of them but his eyes was transfixed on Nat. Specifically her chest.
“Is it cold?” Nat asked bending down to dip her hand in the water.
“It’s fine,” Adam grinned and swam over.
Brett had caught up with Meg, but she turned and with a scream jumped into the water.
“Ahh!”
Brett jumped in after her grinning from ear to ear. He was acting like a ten-year-old.
“You swimming in that?” the deep voice of Max said.
Jenny began to think her friends might be right about her swimsuit, when she realised that he didn’t mean that. He was talking about her shorts and T-shirt.
She laughed embarrassed. “Nah, I have my, er, stuff on underneath.”
His attention was taken by his friends as they had both hooked up with the girls.
This was what Jenny hated. This situation.
The two of them were almost expected to get together, but neither seemed that bothered with the other. Typical. Max was okay, she guessed, but she didn’t fancy him. And against her friends, she was nothing. The plain friend left at the end of the party. A losing bet to drunken fools.
The same situation would’ve happened if they’d gone abroad.
She sighed, stripped off her shorts, and then quickly removed her T-shirt. She slipped into the cold water before anyone would notice.
