Internal Lies

by Megan Mason

  At home, Kat got ready for bed. She felt a little more at ease to be at home and wondered what Harry had meant by what he said. Deciding not to fuss over it, she brushed her teeth phased by her feelings of emptiness. Looking in the mirror at her pale face and worn out make up, perhaps it was time to get some new products she thought. She felt horrific after a night shift; tired, drained, and empty. Life just wasn’t the same anymore. Harry seemed to spark interest however, there was something strange within his manner that Kat couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was, he seemed neither good nor bad. She dragged her feet over the soft carpet where the stripes seemed to enlarge as she scraped merging the reds and browns together. Closing the curtains, she climbed into bed and fell fast asleep.

  The nights went quick for Kat and Harry. Kat felt as if she was in a daze. She noticed that the two of them talked a lot however, the conversations were quite peculiar. One night Harry had said to Kat ‘I know things about you.’

  ‘Like what…?’ Kat queried feeling her blood begin to boil.

  ‘Oh, you know, I know what you were like in school and that you used to have brown hair’

  ‘How?!’

  ‘Well that would be telling’, Harry teased

  ‘Yes, and I want to know!’

  ‘Maybe later.’ Kat felt really on edge at this point and like she couldn’t keep any secrets. She was beginning to feel increasingly uneasy with him as he continued.

  ‘I also know about your brother and what he did to you’

  ‘HOW?!’ Kat screeched

  ‘I have my sources’

  ‘Do you like, look me up online? Have a secret Facebook account? Stalk me? What is going on?!’

  Harry simply sniggered at Kat’s rage. ‘Easy… you just told me.’

  ‘What?!’

  ‘I used a process called reverse psychology on you’

  ‘I can’t see that!’ Kat was becoming wary now. She felt as if her whole life was being read out like a book slowly but surely. She began to worry about what had been said about her and how things were turning out.

  Later that night, Harry pushed Kat into the corner of an empty room where a passed resident once lived and attempted to kiss her. Kat turned her head and froze. She hadn’t wanted this to happen. She didn’t know how to react. Who was this man? How did he know things? He was making her more uncomfortable each moment. He persisted for a kiss without saying a word. She pushed him away but he came back, stronger this time. Kat focused her gaze onto a chair nearby, her eyes half closed. Time seemed to stand still at this moment, and the darkness in the empty room seemed to get even darker. Kat reached for the door handle to open the door, Harry pushed it shut and held it that way. It was true that he was stronger than her and he seemed to relish in this fact considering his devious smile. She didn’t even feel any shock or surprise. She just felt numb. Numb from the pain she’d already been caused and numb because she wasn’t sure if what she thought was happening was real. She wasn’t sure if she was being forced or whether she had it wrong. Had she lead him on? Confusion struck her mind and triggered memories of Damien. Memories that were more painful than this situation now.

  Harry grabbed Kat’s face and forced her to kiss him, she gave up and let herself go limp. She felt nothing. Of course, she enjoyed that Harry had shown interest in her yet, this didn’t seem right to her. She had learned in the past few nights that he was married and had four children. She felt sick at the thought. A married man. How far would he go? To her relief, he stopped. She stood for a minute. What was that? Emptiness travelled from her head to toe that nothing would fill this void. Was it her fault? She told herself to be more stern from then on. However, this does not come easy to Kat as naturally she is solemn and caring. ‘We’re friends, aren’t we?’ Queried Harry, dropping his tone when he said ‘friends’.

  ‘Umm… I guess’, muttered Kat anxiously.

  ‘Good friends?’, he persisted,

  ‘I’m n-not sure what you mean’, she answered quietly.

  ‘Well I think you need to decide!’, he exclaimed. And just like that he walked off.

  Kat walked back to the lounge of the home where he sat. ‘Remember… loose lips sink ships’ he exclaimed with a cheeky grin. Just like when he said ‘what happens on Dandelion House stays on Dandelion House’. Kat’s stomach turned at this again, she wasn’t sure what it all meant however, it left a painful glitch in her abdomen and an anxiety that caused her breathing to hasten. What was his game? What did he want from her? Kat began to feel as if all she was good for in life was to be objectified. An angry feeling arose within and she wished she could rebel yet, she just felt numb soon after. Numb with a stinging sensation in her stomach.

  ***

  She pulled the trigger. In less than a moment, what was once reality was now a horrific nightmare that haunted her.

  Sometimes, I walk these streets not seeing anything at all. As if I've become temporarily blind. All colours are the same, a great beige blur without even a hint of glory. Sometimes, I see everything that can be seen, the magnificent beauty of nature, mother hen fetching worms for her youth, the blades of grass that caress the feet invitingly.

  Where the doctor is, I don't know. Think though... you may be better off not finding him. Confusion is a baffling state of mind. Like a splatter of paints arranged chaotically in an irony that screams that it wasn't arranged at all! Anyone can be an artist. In fact, everyone is an artist. If you were to view each individual life, you could find the beauty and the darkness within each, value that person's beliefs and virtues. However, it is unfortunate that instead of really looking and seeing, many people prefer to judge and chastise instead. Yet... them people judging are often guilty themselves of what they are judging for and they are all but aware of it...

  ***

  Kat awoke from her daydream and began to wash for the day. She felt awful. As if her life was worthless. She felt as if she was no use to anyone, just a mere doll that would be toyed with repeatedly. An ornament that would stand on someone’s mantelpiece looking eloquent and delightful to show off to the visitors. The person inside of her was slowly fading away. At least Harry seemed to care… sometimes… maybe. Perhaps Harry meant well by the kiss, perhaps he didn’t live with his wife anymore. Yet, Kat knew better. Harry still wore his wedding ring that seemed to burn when he touched her.

  If Kat thought that night was bad, she was in for a shock. The following night Harry cornered Kat again, trying to force his hand down her trousers. She kicked him eloquently. ‘STOP!’ She screamed. Harry turned and frowned. He looked sullen and sad that Kat would do this to him. ‘Why Kat, why?’ Harry was guilt tripping her causing her to feel as if it was all her fault. She felt miserable in herself. ‘I don’t want this’ she said.

  ‘Okay okay, it’s all you needed to say’, he claimed. Kat felt that she hadn’t even given him a chance to stop at that point. However, this behaviour from him didn’t seem to link. She felt terrible, as if her world had burned out completely, or lost electricity. Back to the dark ages. Her life seemed sapped of all the little light and harmony that it did have. She just couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Her mind was not capable of dealing with this. Nature had not given her the tools to cope with these abnormal events. Psychologists would say this was a normal reaction to these abnormal events. Kat’s body had gone into fight or flight response. The stress that arose from the situation at hand was seeping out of her. Her body trembled and sweat dripped to her collar from her forehead as her cheeks burned. Games she thought. He’s playing games. What could she do to win?

  Kat’s initial perception of Harry had been positive. She felt as if they would make good friends and be happy working together. Now she wasn’t sure how to feel about him. The switch had occurred so fast. He seemed to be becoming more forceful each shift and she wasn’t sure how she could put a stop to it. She tried threatening him once with telling the office yet somehow, he seemed to talk her out of it, telling her it wasn’t what she
thought and that he had made a mistake in thinking she wanted him. It didn’t stop there though. Each shift Harry would place his hands over Kat’s buttocks and squeeze them hard. She felt violated and unguarded. He would unzip her top when she was trying to do the dishes or clean the house. He tried several times again to force his hand down her pants, making out that she had wanted it to happen. She felt dread for every shift. She felt the need to protect him from harm, that he was unguided, and that it was her fault anyway so it needed to be kept a secret. Kat could not tell anyone. Harry had warned her initially that if she ever mentioned it to anyone then they would both lose their jobs. She didn’t want that though. She felt at a loss.

  She spent her days off in bed gazing at the ceiling. Feeling putrid, she dragged herself out of the bed and made a cheese sandwich. The sun glazed through the window splashing on her face. Her pyjamas clung to her petite frame from the nightmares she’d experienced all at once. Flashbacks so horrific she couldn’t bear to think of them. Her mind was frozen in angst. Petrified of what would come next, she buried her teeth into the sandwich vulgarly. She needed something to take her thoughts away from the present. She stood at the red granite counter. The beige wooden draws glistened as the sun bounced off the silver handles. The back-door blinding from the large glass window. The stone floor cold as she softly moved her feet to go back to bed.

  Her loneliness engulfed her. She felt as if she was lost for words. What would she say if she were to tell someone? How would she begin to explain the situation? She was convinced it was her own fault anyway. Yet, Kat had never meant for it to happen. She hadn’t wanted it to happen. Remembering the forceful nature and being thrown into the corner she shuddered. The memories were haunting, haunting enough to cause the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. She felt nauseous. Another man was abusing her, and she wasn’t doing anything to stop it. How could she? After everything she’d already been through yet, all she did was try to befriend them. She didn’t even realize she was doing it. It seemed more important to protect them as perhaps they were more vulnerable than her. Perhaps in reality, she felt sympathy for them. Yet, it seemed that Kat couldn’t grasp the offences. The two-faced mask that Harry displayed. Kat never knew where she stood. Worst of all she never knew what his game was.

  His grip on her arms tightened as he swung her round to face the wooden bench of the linen room in work. He wrenched her trousers down as he forced himself inside of her. It felt rough. Disgusting. Wrong. Kat felt control slipping away from her fingers, she attempted to fight him off, hitting out and elbowing him in the abdomen, but he just held her more and more tightly. He moved himself in and out of her groaning his way through it. A tear dropped from the corner of her eye as she silently felt his grip tighten. He was too strong for her to fight off. He quickly pulled out as he ejaculated on her dripping down the crack of her buttocks. She wiped herself. ‘Thanks for that, but it’s a shame you didn’t enjoy it.’ He claimed vulgarly and stalked off into the lounge.

  For the rest of that night, Kat hadn’t a clue what to say, she attempted to act normal but wasn’t sure if she was pulling it off. Of course, Harry acted normal, as if he could never violate a woman in such a way he had violated Kat. As if his charming grin and eloquent raise of his eyebrows made him innocent. He seemed pleased with himself. Happy that he could ‘be of service’ as he’d so crudely mentioned around morning time.

  It wasn’t as if Harry was all bad. After all, he had that smile about him and had charmed Kat in ways that made her feel like the only girl in the world. Yet, she wondered how he acted with his wife. Was his wife aware of his behaviours? How would she feel about it? What was their relationship like to cause Harry to act like this? Had he himself suffered emotional trauma?

  No. Nooo. ‘NO!’ Kat had screamed herself awake. She’d been dreaming Harry was chasing her, forcing her against the wall, slamming her head against the hard surface until she or the concrete itself would crack. ‘Agree’, his voice taunted. ‘Say yes’. Kat’s fears were coming forth in her dreams. She felt they were beginning to consume her very being enough that she no longer felt free.

  ‘Is everything okay?!’ Kat’s Mum asked concerningly.

  ‘I’m fine’, she replied. Her Mother glided away. Kat often has nightmares so her behaviours weren’t anything unusual.

  ***

  ‘Don't do it!’ I said. ‘Your art, your music, your spirituality! Remember who you are, remember your beauty, see your inner Godliness! Don't do this to yourself, you know you're better than that!’ But she still cut deep into her wrists. Her head sank and her eyes batted out, my head buried into her lap as I cried hysterically. I had tried to save her, to make her see the other side to it. The blood flowed out of the old woman's forearm through her dark pink cardigan and onto the floor. I looked up and it was no longer the old woman who had cut her wrists. It was me! ME?! I was sitting in the wooden chair where she had been the whole time looking into my own face. Lifeless and broken. Then at the point that I was standing I had vanished and I collapsed out of the chair and onto the floor. The wounds which I had punctured into my wrists had now healed over and I lay there in a little blue dress as I transformed back to myself as a child. The small room that I was in began to fade, the green Edwardian wallpaper glazed through and seeped out, the dark mahogany cabinet fell through the floor and then there was no floor. The chair was gone. Everything surrounding me was white. A tabula rasa.

  ‘You still have your innocence’, a soft voice announced, almost a whisper... a woman's voice. I couldn't quite comprehend the situation, my long dark blonde hair sprayed across my face and as the voice faded out I woke up. Sweat dripped from my forehead onto my chest, what had I just experienced? It had felt so real! Listen to yourself. The immensity of the dream had impacted me in a way I could not describe. The batches and motions I go through seemed tumbled and stable all at the same time, unsteady yet indeed rather sturdy.

  Kat awoke drenched in sweat. Harry’s threats buzzed through her mind. ‘If you ever tell anyone, or try to get me in trouble I will make you regret it!’ He’d claimed the night after she’d been possessed by him and completely vilified for everything she might have been worth. Why she had returned for the next shift only God will know. Now she was absent, taking sick leave. The conversation she’d had with the manager had been nerve-racking. What she told her was a complete lie, that she’d collapsed and banged her head. All the manager had said was ‘well you are responsible for your own health, you need to get back in work ASAP!’ Where was the empathy? The compassion? The sympathy?

  Sick

  Demons calling

  From the abyss

  Chasing tails

  That are no longer bliss

  Eyes glaring

  Diamonds fused

  If only he would change

  Yet he just seemed amused

  Treating stages

  Of immoral cries

  Her soul tarnished

  With filthy lies

  Sketching fairies, Kat doused herself into a mental world of happiness, her mind swam with mythical creatures and goblins. Her images were dark and horrific which represented how she felt. She traced her finger along the eyes of the fairy she had just drawn and smudged the shading to create more darkness within the image. Her sketches were fairly decent as she had taken art at college and received a grade C for her A level. College had been an enjoyable time where Kat had had a secure relationship with Sam. Sam was sweet, kind and loving. Yet, his family were chaotic. It’s a shame that things had to come to an end as Kat could no longer stand the interference and constant punishment that his family seemed to endow. In fact, Kat began to despise Sam for standing still, being passive of the whole experience where his mother screeched at her husband and aimed a knife at him like he was a dart board, not seeming to care about whether she hurt him. What if the woman had succeeded? How would the family cope then? Now Sam has met someone new called Sarah. Kat prayed that Sarah could cope with th
e psychotic mother and behave in the ways that was expected, clean, don’t clean, cook, don’t cook. The woman could never decide whether she’d wanted help or not. Kat felt sympathy for her in a way however, Sam’s mother never attempted to gain the help she knew she needed, her fear engulfed her and she was unable to cope with daily activities half of the time. What was one to do? Psychologists and psychiatrists, doctors and nurses had attempted all avenues of care. The woman had rejected them all apart from taking medication however, she would consume large quantities of alcohol alongside this destroying any benefit that the medication would have, if not causing worse episodes of the psychotic mess she was.

  Kat enjoyed escaping into fantasies as this would help her to really feel. Yet, somehow, the process of forming pictures only appeared to cause more distress as she would laugh hysterically in destructing the eyes of the angelic creatures she drew. Hurt for hurt? This young woman was becoming neurotic in her being as she felt compassion leave her soul. She’d attempted therapeutic art, yet it all seemed in vain. Forming mosaics of birds and trees as they are often viewed as beautiful. Kat found no beauty in this, she just felt pain. She felt as if she was kidding herself now. What was once authentic and filled with passion was now a nasty snare of her innocent past self. It seemed to torment her. Attempting to read, she found that she couldn’t focus. Couldn’t apply herself. She even attempted television but the same result was found. Instead she was left to stare at the blank space of the ceiling, lying in bed, where she drifted in and out of sleep.