by Amy Cross
"You're preaching to the converted, Marty," he says. "I said the same thing to her mother years ago, but she always saw her as this perfect little angel. I love Juliet, but I'm not going to let her get away with this kind of behavior."
There's a pause. "I'm sure she'll be fine," Martina says eventually. "I never met Amanda, but I know you're a good father. I just think I should stay out of the way a little while you two are dealing with this."
"I'll get a babysitter for next weekend," he says. "Maybe we can go away for a couple of days. Just the two of us."
"I'd like that," she says.
Deciding I don't need to hear any more of their conversation, I go back over to the table and stare at the jack-in-the-box. There's something about its crazy smile that makes me feel seriously uncomfortable; I mean, when you think about it, Martina's gift to me wasn't a whole lot better than my gift to her. I sit down and grab the box, carefully stuffing the clown back inside and closing the lid. Hearing my father and Martina coming back through, I focus on the box, making sure that the lid is firmly shut. The last thing I want is for the clown to pop back up without any warning.
"Stay down," I whisper. For a moment, my mind goes blank, and finally I realize what I have to do. Grabbing the jack-in-the-box, I hurry over to the door and out into the garden, and then I go around the corner to Martina's car. My heart is racing as I glance back to make sure no-one can see me, and then I try the handle. Luckily, the door is unlocked, so I climb inside and open the glove compartment. Carefully positioning the jack-in-the-box inside, I unfasten the lid and then quickly shut the glove compartment back up. I take a deep breath: when Martina opens the compartment, the clown will leap out at her. If I have any luck, she'll be so startled, she'll crash her car and die.
"Juliet!" my father calls from the distance.
Getting out of the car, I shut the door and hurry back around to the door, where I find my father and Martina waiting for me.
"What were you doing?" my father asks.
"Nothing," I reply, seeing that Martina has the shoebox in her hands.
"I'm going to bury Gizmo when I get home," Martina says.
"Are you sure you don't need any help?" my father asks.
"No," she says quickly. "Really. I'm fine."
"Juliet," my father says, turning to me, "do you have anything you'd like to say to Martina?"
I stare at her for a moment.
"Anything at all?" he adds.
I pause for a moment, before shaking my head.
"I'm going home now," Martina says, looking tired as she smiles at me. "I'll see you soon, Juliet, okay?" With that, she kisses my father on the cheek and then heads to her car; for once, she doesn't tousle my hair. I turn and watch her walk away. With any luck, I'll never have to see her again. I can just imagine her driving along at high speed and then deciding she needs a cigarette; she'll open the glove compartment and the jack-in-the-box will leap out at her. While she's busy screaming, she'll steer the car straight into a wall. I know I should feel bad about this, but I don't. I want her to die, and when that's done, I want my father gone too.
"Come on," my father says, taking my hand and leading me back into the house as Martina starts her car and drives away. "We've got a lot to talk about, young lady. It's time to sort your head out once and for all."
I don't reply. Glancing back over my shoulder, I see Martina's car heading along the road, headed for certain death.
Chapter Seven
Today
"Are you okay?" Jennifer Mathis asks. She's standing in front of me, just inside the door of the abandoned ward.
"Yeah," I say, taking a deep breath. It's crazy, but while I was dragging Lizzie's body here, I was filled with doubt and fear and regret; as soon as I crossed the threshold into the ward, however, all those feelings seemed to just dissipate. It's as if they were sucked out of me, and now I don't feel anything at all. Looking down at the body, I see nothing but a lump of meat and bone with a human face.
"You don't seem okay," Jennifer Mathis continues. "You seem kind of shell-shocked."
"I'm fine," I say. "It's just -" I look along the corridor. It's been a few weeks since the first time I came to the abandoned ward. Since then, I've been careful to avoid the place. I always knew I'd come back eventually, but I was planning to come up with some kind of plan. The first time I was here, I ended up having an emotional breakdown, and I almost ended up cutting my wrists. "Maybe I'll just leave," I say, stepping back toward the door.
"You can't leave her here," Jennifer says, looking down at Lizzie's body. "Someone'll see her. The people around here are stupid, but they're not morons." She pauses for a moment, and then she looks at me and smiles. "I know what you're worried about."
"You do?"
"You're worried it'll happen again. You're worried I'll give you a knife and encourage you to kill yourself. Don't be scared, Juliet. I'm not going to do that again. Now that I've realized how special you are, the last thing I'd ever want to do is get rid of you. I want to keep you around so I can study you. In fact, I think maybe we can work together."
"I don't want to work with anyone," I say. "I don't even know what you -"
"First things first," she says, interrupting me. "You've got a dead body to get rid of, and I've got a place for you to hide it. There are a lot of things I can do, Juliet, but dragging corpses along corridors isn't one of them. She's heavy, but you'll have to bring her yourself. Come to the rec room. You know the way, right?"
"Yeah," I say, looking down at Lizzie for a moment, "but I don't know if -" Suddenly I look up and realize Jennifer has vanished. "Fuck," I mutter. I want to get out of here, to run as far away as possible, but I know I have to find some way to hide the body. Grabbing Lizzie's ankles, I start dragging her along the corridor. It's a long, slow job, but eventually I get to the rec room, and I find Jennifer waiting for me.
"Get her in there," she says, indicating a small storage closet over in the corner.
"In there?" I ask, shocked. "You don't think anyone's gonna look in there when they find out she's missing?"
"Let me take care of that," she replies. "You do the dragging, I'll do the rest."
"I swear to God," I say, hauling Lizzie over to the closet, "if you turn out to be a figment of my imagination or some kinda crap like that, I'm not gonna be happy."
"You're so suspicious," she says. "Now we've come to the hard part. You've got to get that big chunk of humanity into the closet, and then get the door shut."
"No way," I reply. "She won't fit."
"She will. Trust me; I know these things. You get her in there, Juliet, and I'll do the rest."
Sighing, I start trying to get Lizzie into the closet. It's a hard job at first, and I'm convinced it can't possibly work, but eventually I get her inside and, to my surprise, I'm just about able to get the doors to shut.
"Seriously," I say, taking a step back, "when they realize she's missing, they're gonna look for her, and they're gonna come here."
"They're not going to realize she's missing," Jennifer says. "I've already made sure of that."
"How?" I ask.
"Don't worry about the details," she continues. "I've got experience with this kind of thing."
"But they're going to wonder where she is," I say, feeling as if Jennifer hasn't quite grasped the severity of the situation. "She must have family and friends. They're going to notice she's missing, and they're going to realize I was the last person who saw her alive."
"Just wait a few more hours," Jennifer says. "Go back to the ward. Go and do your work. By the time your shift's over, everything will be okay. I promise."
I take a deep breath. "Why don't I feel bad?"
"You don't?"
"I should," I say, "but I don't. I'm scared of getting caught, but other than that, I don't feel bad at all. I killed her, but I just feel like..." My voice trails off. I've always known that there's this side to me; a side that seems to have no conscience at all. As far back as t
he day I killed Martina's cat, I've known that I don't seem to have the same kind of emotions as other people.
"Any feelings you have about Lizzie are gone," Jennifer says. "As soon as you came to see me, I took them away. I'll continue to take them away, whenever you need a little help. Think of it as a special ability."
"You mean I have no conscience?" I ask.
"Of course you have a conscience," she replies. "You're not a monster, Juliet. But you have a special friend who's able to wipe certain things clean for you."
I turn to her. Did she really just refer to herself as my friend? I don't even know what she is, but she seems to have taken an interest in me. I guess she's picked up on the fact that I'm not quite normal. I don't know whether to be flattered or horrified by this development, but I guess there'll be time to worry about all of that later. Right now, I just have to make sure that I don't get into any trouble over Lizzie's death.
"Go," Jennifer says. "You have a job to do. I'll be fine here. Just promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Come and say goodbye before you leave when your shift ends."
I pause for a moment. "Sure," I say, before turning and hurrying away. As soon as I'm out of the abandoned ward, I push the door shut and re-attach the padlock, before heading through to the main part of the building. I check on all the patients, and finally I reach Kenneth's room. I find him sitting on his bed, having apparently not moved since I left; he's still clutching his hand, and there's still a wet stain on the bedsheets.
"Hey," I say, my heart racing. I have no idea what to do next.
"I won't tell anyone," he replies.
I stare at him. "Won't tell anyone what?"
"You know." He pauses for a moment. "I'm just glad she's gone."
"I need to change your bed," I say, figuring I have to get on with some actual, proper work. "Can you go and sit in the chair?"
It doesn't take me long to get the bedsheets changed, and fortunately Kenneth himself is totally clean. I guess he was telling the truth when he claimed that Lizzie was the one causing the mess in his bed; I have no idea what was going through her mind, but that woman was clearly fucked up beyond belief. As I finish sorting Kenneth's room out, I look over at his damaged hand and realize he's going to need some medical attention for the finger.
"We need to sort out your finger," I say.
Reaching into his bedside cabinet, he takes out a small white packet. "I'll stick a bandage around the finger for now," he says. "That ought to help."
"A bandage won't do anything," I say. "It won't stop the pain."
"Better than nothing," he replies.
"But..." I pause, realizing he'll feel better if he's wearing the bandage.
He smiles. "You're a good girl, Juliet. I could tell that from the moment I met you."
Without saying anything, I turn and head out of the room, taking the soiled bedsheets with me. I only have half an hour before the shift ends, and people are going to start arriving soon. Once the bedsheets are in the laundry chute, I finish checking on all the residents and finally I go to complete the logbook. I don't know where to begin, so I just enter the most basic details about the patients, carefully omitting all the details of Kenneth and his broken finger. My heart is racing, and I feel as if it's only a matter of time before someone finds Lizzie's body. I can imagine the headlines now: I'd be accused of murdering her, and my whole life would be dragged out by the media. I don't know if I could go through all of that.
With the logbook filled out, I head back to the wards, panicking a little. I'm convinced I must have forgotten something, and finally I remember the fire extinguisher. I left it propped outside Kenneth's room, so I hurry to the red ward and make sure everything is back in place. Once I've checked and double-checked everything, I realize there's nothing to indicate that anything strange happened tonight. The only difficult part is going to be explaining why Lizzie isn't around. I'd like to believe that Jennifer was telling the truth when she said she'd sort it out, but I can't bring myself to rely on her just yet.
As I'm heading back to the reception area, I hear the sound of someone moving around. Checking my watch, I see that it's 6am, which means Mr. Taylor is probably here. Sure enough, I find him in his office, checking the answering machine. My heart is pounding as I walk over to the door.
"Huh," he says, putting the phone down. "I'm sorry I didn't pick up when you tried to call me, Juliet. Have you been okay here on your own?"
"Yeah," I say, feeling my chest tighten.
"I've known Lizzie for three years, and I never thought she'd do something like this."
I stare at him. "Like... this?"
"Did you hear the message?" he asks, reaching down and pressing a button on the machine.
"Fuck this place and fuck you," Lizzie's voice says. "I was going to give you two weeks' notice, but then I figured I'd rather screw you over. So I'm walking out mid-shift. Good luck with your stinking retirement home." The message cuts out.
"That was Lizzie?" I ask.
"About two hours ago," he says. "Did she say anything to you before she left?"
I shake my head, trying to work out how Lizzie's voice ended up on the machine.
"So she just stormed out?"
I nod.
"Bitch," he replies, opening his briefcase. "Don't worry, I'll find someone to take her place tonight." He pauses for a moment. "So you've been running the place single-handed since she went?"
I pause for a moment. "Yeah," I say eventually, realizing I have to make this sound convincing. "I just... It wasn't that hard, really. I just checked on the residents and made sure everything was okay."
He sighs. "State regulations mean we could be sued, big-time, if anyone found out about this. You're not a professional carer, Juliet, so technically the facility has been unmanned since Lizzie left. I need your absolute promise that you won't breathe a word about this to anyone. We could be fined hundreds of thousands of dollars."
"I won't say anything," I tell him, relieved that he seems to be focused on the bureaucratic side of the whole mess.
"Good," he says. "I'm glad to know I can rely on you."
"So did Lizzie have many friends?" I ask. "Any family?"
"No," he replies. "The bitch was a loner. I mean, can you imagine anyone putting up with her?"
I smile, realizing that maybe Jennifer was telling the truth when she said she could make sure everything would be okay. It seems crazy, but perhaps Lizzie really can just vanish without anyone asking too many questions, especially if Jennifer is able to replicate her voice. This whole thing feels like it's too good to be true.
There are voices through in the reception area, which means the nurses for the day shift have started to arrive. I'm sure there'll be plenty of gossip about how Lizzie just upped and left, but fortunately the abandoned ward is off-limits. The chances of anyone happening to wander through there are low, and I've got a feeling that Jennifer will help keep Lizzie's body a secret. For now, at least.
"That's weird," Mr. Taylor says, staring at something on his laptop. "Did you notice anything weird with the cameras last night?"
"Cameras?" A cold panic hits me in the guts as I realize there are security cameras dotted all around the building.
"It looks like they reset themselves," he says, clearly a little confused. "I guess they weren't recording last night."
"Huh," I say, feeling the panic subside.
"Off you go," he continues. "You're due back here in sixteen hours."
"Sure," I say. "I'll just go and get my things." Turning and hurrying out of the office, I make my way through the corridors until I reach the door to the abandoned ward. As soon as I get there, I see Jennifer staring back at me through the small glass window.
"All good?" she asks, smiling.
"All good," I say.
"You want to come in?" she says. "Hang out a little?"
I shake my head. "Gotta get home."
"How's that for gratitude?" she co
ntinues. "I saved your ass tonight, and you don't even want to spend some quality time with me." She pauses. "It's okay. You're scared, I understand."
"I'm not scared," I say, stepping away from the door. "I'll come and see you soon."
"Aren't you going to ask?" she says.
"Ask what?"
"You're not?" She smiles. "If our roles were reversed, Juliet, I'm damn sure I'd have asked one very big, very obvious question by now."
"I've already asked what you are," I say. "You wouldn't tell me."
"Not that," she says. "The other big question. The bigger question."
"I don't know what that is," I say.
"I know you don't." She pauses. "That's the strange thing. I'm sure you'll think of it at some point. Let me know. I'd be quite surprised if you never managed to work out what I mean. In the meantime, I hope you'll maybe swing by and see me during your next shift. It'd be good to see you again."
"Maybe," I say.
"Goodnight, Juliet," she replies. "It was very nice seeing you again tonight."
"Yeah," I say, turning and hurrying away. I can't deny that Jennifer Mathis saved me tonight. Without her, I'd have been unable to hide Lizzie's body, at least not for long. At the same time, I can't help feeling that I should be careful of accepting her help too readily. That whole abandoned ward is creepy; it's as if Jennifer has the ability to draw certain emotions out of me and then take them away completely. Even though Lizzie was a monster, I should feel bad for killing her; instead, I simply feel an overwhelming sense of relief at the realization that I seem to have got away with it. Thanks to Jennifer, people think Lizzie quit her job and headed off to some faraway new life; if that lie can be maintained, there's no reason why anyone ever has to go looking for the body. I've got away with it completely. Grabbing my backpack, I hurry out the front door and into the slowly brightening street. As I hurry toward the bus-stop, I can't help smiling. After all, I saved the residents from a woman who was treating them like shit; for the first time in my life, I feel like I actually did something to help people. I'm almost a superhero.
Chapter Eight
