by Amy Cross
"They can't".
"They're going to".
"They can't".
"Of course they can". She stands in front of me. "You can't stop them".
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"If they destroy Crestview, where are you going to go?"
"Go?" She pauses for a moment. "Well, that's a good question. I suppose a lot depends on what, exactly, you think I am. You've shown a surprising lack of curiosity so far, Juliet. It's almost as if you're scared to ask, in case I disappear in front of your eyes. If I'm a ghost, I suppose I'll just have to hang around and haunt the new apartments when they're actually built. If I'm a figment of your imagination, on the other hand, I guess I can just follow you to wherever you go next". She smiles. "What do you think, Juliet? What am I? You must have an idea. You're not an idiot; deep down in your gut, what do you think I am?"
"Tell me," I reply.
"I want to know what you think".
"Tell me," I say again, trying to stay calm.
"Why does it matter so much?"
"Because I need to know if you'll still be around after they knock this place down".
"Then guess. Come on, surely you know. Or are you just scared of the truth?"
I take a deep breath, determined to stay calm. "Just tell me," I say eventually. "Don't play games". Suddenly I hear a noise in the distance, and I turn to look along the corridor. It sounds as if wood and metal and glass are being crushed.
"They've started," Juliet explains. "They'll make their way methodically through the building. You don't want to be standing here when their bulldozers start crashing through these walls, Juliet. Do you think they'll spot you in time?"
"I need to know if you're real," I say firmly.
"Or what? You won't leave?"
"Tell me!" I shout.
"Interesting," she replies, smiling. "I feel as if I'm seeing the real Juliet Collier for the first time since that first night. Are your real emotions coming out?"
"Tell me what you are!"
"You can see me, can't you?" She stares at me. "You can hear me too. I must be real, unless you're losing your mind. Is that possible, Juliet? Are you losing touch with reality? Remember all those people who thought you were a weird little kid? Maybe they were right".
I close my eyes.
"What's wrong, Juliet? Is there something you want to tell me?"
"I didn't kill Martina," I say suddenly.
"Who's Martina?"
"My father's girlfriend, years ago. The first person I ever killed. I found out tonight that I was wrong. It wasn't my fault".
"So what? If it's in the past -"
"You don't understand," I say, opening my eyes as I fight back the tears. "It was Martina's death that made me accept what I am. I knew from that moment that I'd always be evil. Pure, black-hearted evil. I knew I'd be a monster, so I embraced that side of my personality, but what if I was wrong? If I didn't kill Martina, if that was all just a childish misunderstanding, then none of this needed to have happened. I could have been normal after all. I could have had a normal life".
"You still killed your father," she points out.
"Because I thought I'd already killed someone else," I say, raising my voice. Why doesn't she understand? Tears are streaming down my face; I just want to curl up into a ball and wait for the building to collapse around me. "I thought I was a killer. I thought I was evil. But I wasn't. Not to begin with, anyway. Maybe I didn't -" I take a deep breath, and finally I start sobbing. It's been so many years since the last time I properly cried, and now it's happened twice in one day: first at the lawyers' office when I was trying to get my old job back, and now here; I'm losing control. "Why am I so stupid?" I say, my voice cracking as my lower lip trembles. "Why did I let myself believe all these things that weren't true?"
"Come and sit down," Jennifer says, taking my hand and leading me over to the sofa. The floor vibrates a little, and there's a distant crashing sound. "There," she says as we sit next to one another. "I certainly feel real, don't I?"
I nod.
"And warm? My skin feels warm, doesn't it?"
I nod again.
"You just have to move past all of this, Juliet. Anyway, are you really so sure that you didn't kill Martina? What made you suddenly decide this today?"
"Her brother told me," I say, burying my head in my hands. I feel the whole building shudder, and there's a sound of destruction getting closer and closer. I guess the workers have started knocking the place down, but I'm not ready to leave. Certainly not now, and maybe not ever.
"Maybe he's wrong," Jennifer suggests. "After all, he didn't exactly seem like he was totally on the ball. Before you take anything to heart, maybe you should go and see this Gareth Lockley person in prison, and ask him for yourself".
I shake my head, and suddenly I realize the truth. Looking over at her, with tears still streaming down my face, I realize that Jennifer knows all about my visit to see Robert Hopkins already, which means she knows everything I know, which in turn means she's almost certainly just a product of my imagination. I don't need to tell her things, because she's already part of my mind. She's not real; as the realization sinks in, I feel this horrible, sick feeling in my heart.
I'm alone.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asks.
"You're not real," I whisper.
"You seem very certain".
I shake my head. "You're not real. You're just another hallucination, except at least the other ones went away when I recognized them for what they were".
"What if I'm a little of both?" she asks. "What if I'm real, but I've taken on aspects of your personality? What if I've been waiting here in this place for so many years, hoping against hope that eventually there'd be someone who'd understand me. Someone who needed me. Everyone needs to feel needed, Juliet. Who needs you?"
I stare at her.
"I need you," she whispers with a smile. "And you might not think that I'm real, but if I'm sitting here in front of you, and if you can feel my touch, and if I can make you feel better, then surely I must be real? Can't I be part of your imagination and still be real?"
I stare at her, still not knowing what to believe. The building shakes again, and this time it feels as if the source of the vibration is getting closer.
"How can I prove it to you?" she asks. "How can anyone prove that they're real? You spent the last eleven years living with your father, but you didn't notice that he was dead for most of that time". She pauses. "You're hardly a reliable witness, Juliet".
Again, the building shakes, but this time the tremors don't stop. I can hear walls being smashed down in the distance; eventually they're going to get through to this part, and I'll have to decide whether I'm going to stay or not. To be honest, I don't see much point in going anywhere; I might as well just get mashed up with the rubble of Crestview, along with all my victims. I don't even know who I am, not really, not now I've discovered that I didn't kill Martina Hopkins. That moment was everything; it was the act that made me see my true nature, and now I've found out that it didn't really happen. Some drunk driver took my kill. Then again, I still intended to kill her, so I still had a black little heart, even all the way back then.
"It's getting closer," Jennifer whispers, as the whole room starts to shake. "Any moment now, a bulldozer is going to come crashing through one of the walls. Are you really going to still be sitting here when that happens?"
"Why not?" I ask, still sobbing. "At least it'd be a quick way to die".
"It wouldn't," she says. "It really wouldn't. Think about it. The machine slowly crushing you, squeezing your body until you burst. It'd take at least a few seconds. There'd be pain, Juliet. Unbearable, unspeakable agony. You'd feel your bones being crushed; you'd feel your whole body exploding as it's mangled into the building. It might be an interesting metaphor. It might even be poetic. But it most certainly wouldn't be quick or painless".
"It'd be followed by
nothing," I say quietly. "Nothing ever again". As the words leave my mouth, the ceiling starts to shake, and small amounts of dust start to fall. "Life would be over".
"Is that what you want? Are you going to just give up? You're so close to victory, Juliet".
"What victory?"
"Just living is a victory," she continues. "Just overcoming everything, and surviving. But aren't you worried about what's going to happen when this place has been torn down? All those dark emotions you've managed to hide away in here, won't they come flooding out?"
"Not if you keep me safe from them," I reply. "It's not about Crestview. It's you. You're the one who keeps all those things out of my thoughts. I don't need this place, but I need you". I pause for a moment. "Why did you choose me? Why am I the one you wanted to help?"
She smiles. "You really don't get it yet, do you? You don't remember".
"Remember what?" I wait for her to answer, but she seems determined to make me suffer. "Maybe it's better if I die," I continue eventually. "At least that way, no-one else has to become one of my victims. Do you have any idea how close I came to killing Robert Hopkins today? I wanted him to get angry at me. I wanted him to hate me. If I get out of here, I'll probably go back to his house, tell him the truth, and put myself in a position where I have no choice but to kill him. And then what? How much longer would I have to keep doing that?"
"What's one more dead body on the pile?" she asks. The whole room is shaking now, as an ominous rumble gets closer and closer.
"I'm not a killer!"
"The bodies in those cupboards say otherwise, Juliet. They say you're a cold-hearted murderer who won't let anyone stand in her way. Think about it for a moment. Did those people really deserve to die? Some of them, maybe. But not all of them. Did Mr. Harriman deserve to die? Does Robert Hopkins deserve to die? Are you going to spend the rest of your life killing everyone you meet who doesn't live or to your high standards, or who causes you problems?" She smiles. "What about your father, Juliet? Did he deserve to die?"
I nod.
"Are you sure?"
I nod again, before closing my eyes in a desperate attempt to slow the tears. I'm sobbing so much, I can't even speak anymore. I feel as if everything is finally coming to an end. Looking straight ahead, I watch as one of the cupboards swings open; Lizzie's dead body stares out at me, her flesh putrid and rotten. A moment later, she slips down to the ground, and a flood of pungent yellow liquid seeps from her body, spreading out onto the floor.
"He was a bad father," Jennifer continues, "but the world is full of bad fathers. It doesn't mean you have a right to go around killing them all".
"But if -" Suddenly there's a huge crashing sound; I look up and see a massive cloud of dust at the far end of a nearby corridor, as one of the walls is ripped down. "If this is how I see the world," I continue, finally managing to hold back the tears, "then maybe I don't belong here. Maybe I should just accept that I'm not right". As I stare along the corridor, I see parts of another wall start to come down; moments later, one of the bulldozers rolls past, flattening the rubble. "Maybe this should have happened long ago. I tried my best, but some people just aren't made to keep on living".
"You have to decide," Jennifer says, "but I promise you I'll be with you if you decide to keep trying. Whether or not you're sure I'm real, I'll be there. I'll help you".
"It's not enough," I say quietly, watching as the second bulldozer smashes through a closer wall.
"It's not?"
I shake my head. The man in the second bulldozer turns his steering wheel, and the huge machine starts lumbering toward me. There's so much dust in the air now, it's getting harder and harder to see. I figure I can just sit here and wait to be crushed. It's not like I actually have to do anything; I can just sit here and wait for the end to come. Maybe Jennifer's right, maybe it'll hurt; but at least it'll be over. I stare at the machine as it gets closer and closer. Just a few seconds of strength, and I'll never have to feel any pain ever again. It's the only thing that makes sense. No more pain. No more fear. No more -
"Hey!" shouts a voice, and the bulldozer starts to slow down. Staring up, I see that the dust has cleared a little, and the driver is staring straight at me. "Who the fuck are you?" he shouts. "What the fuck are you doing in here?"
I stare at him. My mind is blank and it's as if I'm rooted to the spot.
"We've got company," the man says as he grabs a radio from the dashboard. "Call the cops".
Panicking, I get to my feet and run along one of the remaining corridors. When I get to the end, I see that the section to the left has already been demolished, so I'm able to step straight out of the building. I turn to look back, but there's no sign of Jennifer. Hearing more shouts headed my way, I run toward the street and away along the sidewalk. If I look back, for even a moment, I'll see those men chasing me; I keep running, racing across intersection after intersection until finally I collapse on the sidewalk, desperately short of breath.
"Are you okay?" asks a woman nearby, reaching down to my shoulder. Brushing her away, I get back to my feet and run as fast as I can. I feel as if I have to get away from everything; if only that man hadn't seen me at the last moment, I'd be dead by now and I wouldn't have to worry about anything. No pain. No fear. No regrets. Stopping at the next street corner, I try to decide which way I should go. For some reason, I'm filled with the urge to go back and face Robert Hopkins again, but I tell myself it would be a mistake to confront him right now, so I head home instead. That's what a normal person would do, right? A normal person would go home.
As soon as I reach the house, I see three police cars in the driveway. Panicking, I slip down the side and through into the back garden. Hearing voices by the back door, I hide behind the woodshed, figuring I can just wait here until they've gone. My heart is racing, and I'm terrified that they'll find me at any moment. Closing my eyes as tight as possible, I try to work out what to do. I've got nowhere left to run, and nowhere left to hide; I'm almost out of money, and I have no friends. Looking down, I spot a piece of bone on the ground. It takes a moment before I realize that it must be from my father.
"Juliet?"
Opening my eyes, I look over to see Jennifer standing nearby.
"It's okay," she says. "You can come out".
I stare at her, unable to shake the feeling that she might be luring me into a trap. After all, I didn't hear those police cars driving away.
"Juliet," she continues, "you've been behind there for more than two days. You need to come out".
I stare at her. I don't hear any other voices nearby, but I didn't notice any kind of blackout. Have I really been hiding here for so long? It's been so long since I used to suffer from regular blackouts, but perhaps they've come back with a vengeance.
"Come on," she says, holding out her hand. Cautiously, and still not entirely convinced that I can trust her, I step out and see that the police cars have indeed gone. "After you ran from Crestview," she says, "they had to check to make sure there was no-one else inside. That's when they found the bodies. All of them".
"But they don't know it's my fault," I stammer, feeling as if my world is falling apart. The one thing I thought I could rely on was that no-one would ever, ever find those bodies. "They can't. There's no link to me. There's no way they can -"
"Your car was parked outside," she replies, interrupting me. "They also used dental records to identify your father's remains". Leaning forward, she gently kisses my forehead. "They know, Juliet. They know everything. They're looking for you".
"So what do I do?" I ask. "Tell me. I don't care, just tell me. Where do I go?" I wait for her to answer, but she just stares at me. "Tell me!" I shout, grabbing her arm. "Tell me where to go! Please! Fix this!"
"Stop shouting," she hisses, her voice almost a whisper. "You'll attract attention".
I stare at her. "I'll go to California," I say eventually. "I'll get a new identity, and I'll... I'll start a new life. I'll bury Juliet Collier and choose
a new name. I'll never be me again. I'll be normal. I won't kill anyone. I'll find someone to marry, I'll have children, I'll be like everyone else. I'll just live out the rest of my life as a quiet, normal person. No-one ever has to know the truth about me. They'll just think I'm a totally normal, nice person, with no -"
"You're babbling," she says, placing a finger against my lips. "Do you really think you can get out of this with some crazy scheme? Just like when you thought you could run Crestview single-handedly, or when you thought you could keep all your emotions under control? You're manic, Juliet. Crestview's gone. If you thought you could lock everything away where no-one would ever find the truth, you were wrong. You're not going to California. You're not going to hide away and be a normal person. You can't. They won't let you".
"Who won't?" I ask, desperate for her to help me. "Why would they bother looking for me?"
"You're a serial killer, Juliet".
I stare at her, as those stone-cold words sink into my heart. "No," I say. "No, I'm not!"
She nods. "My poor, sweet darling. You are. I tried to help you. I did everything in my power. If you'd just stayed away, Crestview would have been demolished and those bodies would have been missed forever. But you had to come rushing back, didn't you?"
"I'm not a serial killer!" I shout. "Why are you saying that?"
Before she can answer, however, I hear a noise nearby, and I spot a police car pulling up at the front of the house.
"You've got to help me," I hiss at Jennifer. "Stall them. Do something. Give me time to get away go to California. I can handle the rest, but just help me! Meet me there! Go, and I'll catch up! It might take me a while, but I'll get there eventually, and I'll find you! Promise me you'll go!"
