Internal Lies

by Megan Mason

  ‘Of course I am silly. Don’t worry honey, we’re just going to play a little game.’

  ‘I don’t like the sound of that!’

  ‘Of course you do, you like games. Remember the ones you played with me and I lost every time? Well now it’s time to play my game, we like to share our games don’t we Harry?’

  ‘You truly have lost it. You’re a monster!’

  ‘Oh thanks for that, but it’s a shame you didn’t enjoy it.’ I remarked. The words he’d said to me after he tore me apart. The words that had burned in my brain and scarred my mind. The words that would haunt me forever. With that, I began to pour out the contents of the blue plastic bottle over his head and body. He shrieked and shivered. It didn’t take long to finish pouring.

  ‘No Kat NO!’ I had taken the box out of my pocket. Pulled out a wooden stick from the box and struck it across the side. The flame mellowed and sparked into life. He must’ve been able to see the excitement on my face because his concern grew higher and higher.

  I let it go. Suddenly… the flames began to rise and the screams were heard. His face contorted with pain that he writhed and his clothes melted as did his flesh. The smell of cooked meat filled the air and it wasn’t long before all that was left was ash. I was careful now to let the fire spread. Once everything had been burned I retrieved the fire extinguisher that I’d brought and extinguished the neurotic flames.

  I felt nothing.

  Numb

  Lost for words

  Her heart soars

  To know she’s won

  And effect has had cause

  Raw emotions

  Running high

  Streams of rivers

  Crying eyes

  Blaming novice

  For most is mine

  Treating cases

  I am Kat Dine

  I lay on the floor forgetting the mess. I wasn’t sure how long I’d been there. I felt nothing. No care in the world. What I had just done didn’t have any effect. My mind was blank and my heart was cool. Never have I ever faced a fool. I let go of all that seemed right. I let go of all that seemed wrong. Nothing is purely black or white, we are all grey. I needn’t have worried about the mess anyway. I had heard nothing. I just waited. It didn’t bother me the thought of being caught anymore, I was simply thrilled to have served the cause. To have brought justice foremost. To have knocked him down, to have ended the constant suffering he inflicted. I was proud, if anything.

  My eyes fixed on the mantelpiece of my own home, I couldn’t recall even getting here. The last thing I remembered was seeing him writhe in pain, watching as he slowly died a painful death. Sickening I thought, yet ever so sinister was I. My mind raced of the recent events. I wasn’t aware if Danny had seen. I wasn’t aware of whether he took me home, or whether he had left as soon as I had ended it all. Danny had been a bizarre character, he had lead me towards destruction and left me at breaking point. Deserted me almost. I was lost without him, not sure on what to do next. I yearned to see him to guide me through this time. A time where I wasn’t fully immersed in myself. A time where I’d seemed to of forgotten who I was and what life was worth.

  The front door opened and my mother walked in. Only to discover me lying on the floor. She scanned the room and I heard a gasp. ‘Oh Kat! What have you done?!’ She’d shrieked horrifyingly. I wasn’t sure what she’d meant, what she’d seen, or what she’d heard. I couldn’t comprehend the intensity of her emotion that seemed to rise in her voice. A tear rolled down her cheek as I unforgivingly looked her way. A look that would haunt her for the rest of her life. A look that was glazed over and unresponsive. A look that portrayed I was not aware.

  They arrested me. Hands behind my back and connected by steel cuffs. In the car they pushed me and alerted sirens as they immediately drove me to the station. Where they questioned me and I wasn’t quite sure how to answer. Where I left a part of myself behind and discovered a new phase of life. False reality. A reality that was more comforting than the supposed real one. The authentic one. The one that screamed and glared. Instead I lived inside my own imagination. Importantly resting for the face of eternity. Paradise.

  Prison

  Searched and positioned

  Instructed and whipped

  Rattled cages

  And glances that tripped

  Morning glory

  Not for me

  Traces with thorns

  Stripped of tea

  Luxury wasted

  On villains and saints

  The real ones are out there

  Lives that they taint

  Stolen crosses

  Blacked out snares

  Deviled axes

  Glazed out stares

  Kat never remembered the conversation with the police officers, her mind just seemed to blank out. She was unsafe to be out in the open, walking around the streets, getting on with daily life. She hadn’t been herself at all recently. In fact, she felt as if she was a nobody. Entering a new chapter, Kat had wound herself in prison. God only knows how. Having been given access to one hour TV time a day, Kat had watched the news, searched the local newspapers left by the prison wardens, only to find that nothing had come out about her murder of Harry Burns.

  The prison reeked of ammonia and the cells were small. Kat was placed in solitude on her own. She had been glad for this as sharing with anyone else would have caused her great discomfort. She hated attempting to socialize with people she didn’t really care for. However, perhaps it would’ve been nice to have someone to talk to in order to pass the time. Perhaps, a person who could tell her their stories in hope that they would drown out Kat’s and appear a lot worse than hers. The cell was basic with a toilet, sink, and a mattress on the floor covered neatly with a single white sheet and a beige blanket. She was dressed in orange overalls. The colour was a dark shade as if to alert warnings to anyone that still had their liberties.

  It hadn’t been long before food was delivered through a small hole in the large metal door that could lock from the outside with a latch. A basic stew with bread. Kat fingered it delicately and played with the stew with her spoon. She had no interest in food recently, in fact, it was the last thing on her mind. She failed to show any interest in meals as they were delivered they were retrieved in almost the same condition. The prison wardens moaned at her that she was wasteful, telling her she needed to eat otherwise she’d end up in the hospital. Kat never cared about that though, all she longed for was to find out the news about the death of Harry. To hear her mother’s voice to tell her she wasn’t a bad person after all and to give her the confidence boost she needed. Being limited to one phone call a day after supper though, Kat hadn’t yet had the chance to make her first phone call, and she wasn’t sure who she’d call. Her mother would only loathe her. Danny didn’t seem to have a number and he certainly wouldn’t be game for visiting her at prison. Perhaps Danny’s game had been to ruin Kat all along. After all, he was a no show now since the deed was done. What was next? Who was to know?

  Ricky? She could call Ricky. He hadn’t judged Kat so far however, Kat had refused to open up to him. She’d never given him a chance to judge her. It was her only hope though, her only means of finding someone who could help her feel normal again. That was it she thought, she would phone her CPN Ricky and tell him what she’d done. She’d confide in him, discuss matters as quickly as possible considering that time was scarce.

  Whilst waiting to use the phone, Kat occupied herself with made up patterns on the white concrete wall. She traced what appeared to be a cat over and over, reminding her of Arnold and Molly. Their ginger, black and white fur. It was comforting to her. She felt that she was able to relax with her cats. Kat longed to be with them now, missing them she began to shed tears. What had she done? She hadn’t spoken with her mother since yesterday and her mind was fixated on the negatives. Not that there had been much conversation with her mother. She had given her a serious look along with disappointment. What did she thi
nk of her daughter now? She worried gravely about what would happen next. How long would she be kept captivated for?

  Finally, the time had come that she could use the phone. She dialled the number. It rang. Once, twice, three times before he picked up.

  ‘Hello?’ Ricky’s voice was husky and Kat yearned to reach out to him in hope that he would understand.

  ‘Ricky! It’s Kat!’

  ‘Kat, what number are you ringing from?’

  ‘I’m… I…’, Kat stammered, tumbling on her words, her body quivered and her heart raced as she prepared to tell Ricky the truth. ‘I’m in prison.’ She had finally got the words out.

  ‘What! Why?’

  ‘I killed Harry.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes, I killed him, I tied him up, soaked him in gasoline, and set him on fire.’

  ‘Kat, I don’t think it’s quite how you think… everything will be alright, trust me!’ He said this so delicately that Kat hung onto his every word. She had craved his help, his voice, his words of wisdom. He was her CPN who could rescue her from the torment lying within her mind. He would help her to face reality. Help her to discover her true self.

  ‘No Ricky, I did it. I killed him.’ She whispered fiercely.

  ‘Okay Kat, just get some sleep and I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t be worrying about things, nothing is your fault now and you will soon see. I am visiting you tomorrow with the doctor, you needn’t worry yourself anymore than you already have.’ His voice was smooth and sympathetic showing that he really did care. Kat’s heart fluttered as he spoke.

  They said their farewells and hung up the phone as the prison warden was glaring in her direction. Kat slowly traced her steps back to her cell as she was guarded by the tall, African, female warden who had gorgeous box braids. If Kat hadn’t been a prisoner she might just have asked where the woman got her braids done. She yearned to know as she thought of herself having them in her hair. Walking through the corridors of the prison, she couldn’t help but notice a lot of unknown faces glaring her way. They must of thought her pathetic with her tear stained face and enraged phone call. Had they been listening in? As she stepped into the cell the door was quickly locked behind her. She had been given a push by the tall woman to move faster. Kat felt unworthy.

  In the cell she lay on the mattress, longing for updates in the news. She yearned to look out of a window which was not provided. Having skipped all her meals, Kat’s stomach began to churn. She missed her days of freedom and her days of innocence. She missed her days in care and looking after people. If anything, she felt that she had taken everything for granted. What had Ricky meant that he would see her tomorrow, Kat thought. Would he really come to see her in prison? Surely not. Perhaps he would though. Suddenly, Kat felt ashamed at the sight of herself. Orange overalls, no makeup at all. Would he think she was ugly? Not that this should matter to her, after all he was her CPN not her boyfriend. Although, perhaps she wished for the latter.

  The lights in the corridor dimmed as Kat noticed there was no longer light coming through the cracks in the door frame. She buried her head in her knees and began humming a lullaby to herself. She felt awful. Her mouth was dry and her stomach empty. She felt sick. Sick of herself and everyone else. What was happening? Having tried to soothe herself, she began to rock back and forth. Nothing seemed to work though. She huddled her knees against her chest as there was nothing better to cuddle. Having been isolated, her mind played up even more than it already was. Kat began to visualise scenes and dramas before her eyes. She heard whispers in the corridors, and footsteps near her door. Convinced people were after her she buried her body underneath the covers.

  Kat felt her life was over and that nothing could succumb or account for her actions. She dreamed of taking all the paracetamol she had took again. There was nothing she could do to get herself out of this misery, nothing she could do to end the pain that choked her at night. She was empty. Empty from the storm that brewed over her life and empty from the torment she’d caused his family. She thought of his wife and children and suddenly she vomited. There was nothing left to live for. Unluckily though, her shoe laces had been removed, there were no belts, no medication, no sharp objects, nothing. Nothing she could use to end herself. She was safe. Safety that cried out she was unsafe. She vomited again. Her head throbbed with the pain from it all. All she had vomited was bile.

  Childhood

  Ignorance is bliss

  Like a petal I do miss

  For she is robbed of innocence

  Left with a stinging sense

  They say they do love

  But they’re the opposite of a dove

  I’m dying in your dirty arms

  Only to waken to alarms

  Forced me to play a game

  I’ll never be the same

  Spoken words I wish I never heard

  Only to find that he just stared

  She let her face be covered with the water. She waited and waited. It was only a matter of time now. She had cut the oxygen off.

  ***

  Kat was always a timid child, afraid of getting into trouble, hurting people's feelings, getting into fights, and most of all being hurt. Kat was never brave in the face of my fears. She was squeamish, nervous, and worst of all... she was vulnerable.

  Kat’s brother Damien had always been a peculiar character. He was bullied through school, was never accepted fully by our father, was constantly getting himself into trouble. Whether he realized it or not, one cannot say. They thought he was... weird. Perhaps his characteristics were eccentric, he would act girlish, laugh loudly as if the joke was funnier than it had ever been intended. He had the flick of his hair, a walk that flounced and stomped everywhere that he would look as mad as a cockerel. In fact, you could say that he suits the characteristics portrayed through Picasso's expression of a cockerel through his painting 'The Cockerel'. Damien had always a stern look set on his face, the slight purse of the lips, the tight jaw, the narrowed eyebrows with a vacant stare to match. Kat could never make out what angered him so much, but it always seemed that he was troubled in some way. Often, she would ask him if he was okay and he would grunt in response. Half of the time, he would flip out at her as if she was the reason. However, he would flip out on anything; computers, the shower, the Xbox, the vacuum cleaner. He was heavy handed, always hitting at things that caused him distress and breaking them. Perhaps he is too big for his boots.

  Apparently, when Damien was very young he liked to sleep with vacuum cleaners and telephones, he couldn't go to sleep without them. According to their mother, it was like he was obsessed. He would scream and scream until he had the telephone or the vacuum to sleep with. Not like a conventional teddy bear, right?

  Kat often felt sympathetic towards him, as if he needed someone to understand his point of view, rather than just punish him. Guilt swept through Kat often when she’d think of him, but not anymore. Once trust is broken, it can never be fixed solidly again. If you break a vase, you can never put it back exactly how it was. You could glue it back together, but the cracks will always remain, and sometimes, the water will leak out of the cracks and spill over everything surrounding the individual piece. It is also a fact that the vase that was once pretty, will never be deemed as truly beautiful again. It is broken and now almost useless. That is how Kat saw herself in the eyes of others, broken and almost useless.

  As a young child, Kat and Damien would often play games together. There was drawing, building Lego houses, playing with their 'little figures' and their teddies. He taught Kat how to draw, skip, ride a bike, there was all sorts. They would pretend they were at school, act out a game of 'house' with Kat’s dolls where they were the mother and the father to the plethora of children that they had. As a child, she had loved my dolls, my teddies and little ornaments that she would make games with. Kat could spend hours alone pretending to be a mother, a housewife, a nurse, and a teacher. She had a small, plastic kitchen set with miniature pots,
pans, and saucers. At times, Kat would pretend to cook, clean, iron the clothes with my ironing set and plastic maiden. Back then, she thought she knew everything there was to being an adult, she thought life was easy, to cook, clean, bring up the next generation and go to the shops to buy the food. Not that Kat had a clue of where supermarkets got the food from and what the importance of bringing up children were. For all she knew, a baby came from the mother's tummy but how it got out she didn't know. It didn't really bother her as she didn't wonder much. If anything, Kat was rather overwhelmed enough by the fact a baby came from inside somebody's tummy, the details were beyond my small imagination.

  One time, Kat was just turning five, it must have been the day before my birthday because she remembered her Mum giving her, her birthday present early after the incident, feeling guilty she told her to play on my own with my new toy. "You stay away from him now." She had said. Kat never really understood why he thought the types of games he played on her were fun, but she had laughed myself... not that she had the slightest clue as to why she was laughing, Kat just remember that she didn't want to cry because Damien would tease her for it, he would just laugh even harder and more menacing, and Kat would feel helpless, worried and tormented.

  ‘Let's pretend I've kidnapped you’ Damien claimed

  ‘Okay’ Kat said. She didn't know what this game entailed but she was happy that my brother wanted to play with her, Kat didn't like being on my own all the time, she liked to socialize and she had wanted to be embraced by my family. He got the rope out, told her to sit on his chair in his room and tied her up. Kat didn't really react... after all it was a game.

  ‘Now I've got you’ he sniggered triumphantly. ‘Try to get out!’ he laughed. As you can guess, Kat struggled against the rope, he had wrapped the rope around my waist and hands, she didn't have much strength to budge any of it. Kat looked around the room wildly. The teal stripes on the wall were hopeless, they just seemed to dissolve into one another. Damien at this point was laughing even more... he continued the game. "Now what is it am I to do with you?" he questioned looking deviant. Then he turned around, his back to her and as his upper body stopped shaking with the laughter he turned around slowly...