Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller

by Horn, Marc

  Jen opened her eyes. She was twisting the past. The actual scene had ended with Ben brushing his teeth; the conversation that took place after that was fictional - a search for answers, a desperate attempt to forestall the unbearable times ahead.

  Nothing further had been said. She would never speak with him again. Rest in peace, Ben.

  7

  Ryan was puzzled. Here he was, sat on a plastic chair in his own room, while Ginger lay on his bed smoking pot.

  ‘Don’t know what you’re missing, lad,’ Ginger said.

  ‘I think the cons outweigh the pros.’

  Ginger drew a long, smoky breath. ‘I beg to differ, my friend.’

  Ryan studied him. He felt intrigued; as if Ginger could teach him many things. He watched rings of smoke float around his tiny room, until they blended with the walls and ceiling, like a tablet dissolving in water.

  ‘There are times in this world when you just need to chill,’ Ginger added.

  ‘I think drugs are for losers,’ Ryan said boldly.

  Ginger laughed, baring his yellow-tinted teeth. ‘Just consider that for a moment… How much d’you earn?’

  ‘Enough.’

  Ginger’s indifferent expression suggested to Ryan that any response he’d given would’ve bounced off. ‘Well actors and musicians earn more than you could imagine,’ Ginger began. ‘Yet their lives revolve around drugs. Drugs nurture their creativity, inspire their work and reward them for success.’ He held up his joint as if it was an exhibit in court. ‘So is this little bastard really a bad thing? I don’t think so.’

  Ryan shrugged. ‘I’ve often thought that. I just don’t want anything fucking up my head.’ He caught Ginger’s eye. ‘I like to be in control.’

  Ginger smirked. ‘Really? Word is you’ve lost control. Keep clear of Ryan is the word around the manor.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t.’

  Energy bubbling in his voice, Ginger said, ‘I know you better than that, my son. You’re just confused. All that’s needed is a wee bit of guidance to realise your huge potential.’

  Ryan smiled. Ginger seemed to understand him. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘There’s so much I need to do, but sometimes it’s hard to prioritise.’

  Ginger moved closer to him. ‘Don’t worry lad, that’s why I’m here - to organise. I won’t interfere with your brilliant mind. I’ll just provide a structure to your thoughts.’

  Ryan looked at him. ‘That’s very kind.’

  ‘Well guys like us need to stick together.’

  Ryan glanced at the floor and thought for a second. ‘It’s hard to know who to trust.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Ginger agreed. ‘A good friend is worth his weight in pot.’

  ‘Only geezers can be good friends?’

  Ginger looked deadly serious. ‘Oh yes… Fucking yes, Ryan. Don’t ever trust women. Confide in them, you salute the enemy. Just fuck ’em lad, nothing more. There to guzzle your cum and burp sperm, that’s all.’

  Ryan sniggered.

  ‘Use and abuse,’ Ginger said merrily. ‘Let’s turn this game around.’

  ‘Yeah, that sounds right.’

  ‘Course it fucking does!’ Ginger said, patting Ryan on the back. ‘’Cause I’m telling you! Remember, me and you are like peas in a pod, ’cept I’m older, so you can benefit from my mistakes.’

  Ryan suppressed a smile. It was a wonderful thing to have such a selfless, wise friend; someone who respected him and didn’t condescend, and someone he could turn to with complete confidence in a crisis. ‘Thank you, Ginger,’ he said sincerely.

  ‘Not a problem. Want a smoke?’ Ginger proffered the joint.

  ‘No.’

  8

  Jenny awoke to Sinead O’Connor’s new hit: Nothing Compares 2 U.

  She shot up, frantically pulled her denim jacket off the bedpost and fumbled around in the pockets. Oh God, his number, it was in here, I’m sure it was! But her fingers only poked at the cotton lining. How drunk must she have been last night? She scanned the walls – cluttered with posters of Madonna, Patrick Swayze and INXS – in the hope that she’d stuck the note on one of them. She wouldn’t have lost it, it had to be safe somewhere. She sighed when she saw it stuck to her wardrobe. Then she lay back on her bed and smiled as last night unfolded in her mind.

  She’d met him before. He was friend of Geoff’s, an ex she’d gone out with for about a month. Geoff had won her affection with his cool demeanour and thoughtfulness, and at first had seemed almost disinterested in sex, but it wasn’t long before he turned out to be just as sex-obsessed as the rest. Once that became obvious, Jenny let him go.

  Geoff was smooth and flattering, but it was his excessive praise that drew her suspicion.

  ‘You look fantastic,’ was his reaction to absolutely everything she wore. And when she tried anything on in a shop he’d say, ‘It’s made for you, baby’. She’d talk about things on the news, on-going things like abductions or murder cases, and he’d listen intently, ask lots of questions and say how upset it made him, and how much he wanted this and that to happen. But he never watched the news or read the paper himself. And he’d laugh at things she said that really weren’t funny. Sometimes he’d laugh so loud that she’d watch him perform, aware that a genuine smile fades gradually. She wasn’t particularly funny. She didn’t know one joke and wasn’t known for her comebacks either.

  His playful touching gradually turned more intrusive, as did his sex-talk; at first he’d graze her arm, stroke her hair, or pinch her side, but then he’d chance touching her legs, her bum and let his hand linger there for seconds. And he’d start to talk about her breasts, his body and his penis. She told him to stop, and he would for a day or two, but then he’d test the waters again. It was clear what he really wanted. If he meant the nice things he said, then he wouldn’t have tried to push the sex issue so soon. He wasn’t the one.

  But maybe Ben was. She’d met him once when Geoff took her to The White Swan, and found him confident, attractive, and – something else…How could she put it? He had a presence, a powerful presence about him. When she spoke to him, he listened in such a way that she felt valued. A lot of boys seemed distant when she talked to them, looking intently at her, but mistiming their responses, as if they were just fooling her into thinking she had their attention; as if it was a huge effort to stay engaged, but they did it because it might get them sex. Ben exuded none of this thinly veiled desperation. He was listening to what she was saying, absorbing her words, and enjoying a conversation. And when he spoke she found herself transfixed, focused, compelled. At the time she ignored any negative emotions, since she was in a relationship with Geoff. But now that they were over, and she was single, she acknowledged that she’d fancied Ben from that first meeting.

  Before she went out last night, she was in a bad place. Her friends had boyfriends and she was feeling left out. When they didn’t ignore her, they tended to condescend her, and she sensed it was because they considered her childish and prudish. The awareness that she was being sidelined was agonizing.

  Bitter Tears by INXS played on the radio.

  And some boys typecast her as a tease or a waste of time, who deserved to be screwed senseless. In a world where sex was readily available and meaningless, she was an outcast. Word had spread that dating her was a waste of time, as she wouldn’t put out. Although this eliminated the type of person she wanted to avoid, it seemed that all boys were in it for one thing and she would never be approached. Many times she’d been told how attractive she was, but at nightclubs boys seemed to shun her. She was starting to get paranoid, but couldn’t shake the impression that every boy knew about her and had no time for her. Watching her friends with their boyfriends, she wondered if her time would ever come.

  And then Ben swept her off her feet…

  Leaning on her elbows, with empty glasses on the counter either side of her and the lively dance floor below, a cocktail was placed in front of her.

  ‘You had this when we
first met, Jenny.’

  She knew it was him, before she looked. He sat down next to her. ‘Thanks, Ben.’

  He cocked his head. ‘You remember my name. That’s good.’

  ‘I remember your friend, too.’ She must have had eight drinks by now, and she could feel the difference.

  ‘Yeah, you made a mistake with him. He’s a creep.’

  ‘You hang around with creeps?’

  ‘He’s not a creep to me, but he is to girls.’ He nodded slowly at her. ‘But I knew you’d work him out.’

  She relaxed a little, even smiled a bit. ‘Why?’

  ‘I talked to you that time. I could tell you were smart.’

  Jenny shook her head. ‘He used to go on and on about how brilliant I was, just like you are.’

  ‘Except I mean it. I’ll tell you you’re smart, beautiful, and easy-going, ’cause that’s as much as I know so far. Oh, and that you pick bad boyfriends.’

  ‘Who else did you know, other than Geoff?’

  ‘Didn’t know any of the others, but I saw you with a couple in here.’

  ‘Were you spying on me?’

  He looked down briefly and smiled. ‘I’ve wanted to buy you a drink for a while. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own.’

  ‘You didn’t try to get my number from Geoff then?’

  ‘Nah, that’s wrong. He was gutted when you dumped him.’

  ‘Gutted that I didn’t sleep with him.’

  Ben nodded. ‘Yeah, he was, is.’

  ‘So you know quite a lot about me really? I’m sure Geoff told you I’m a waste of time.’

  ‘No. I think he wants to get back with you.’

  ‘That won’t happen.’

  ‘Good.’ Ben swigged from his bottle, and Jenny sipped some of her drink too. ‘I don’t care about sex right now,’ he said. ‘I want to settle down with someone.’

  Jenny slowly slid her glass along the counter. ‘I don’t trust anyone, I’m afraid. I’ve heard so much bullshit.’

  ‘I’m not a creep like the others. I don’t beg and I’m not needy. You could at least come out with me one night.’

  ‘No, come out with me!’ a drunk shouted from the other side of Jenny, as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her into his body.

  Ben grabbed the drunk’s wrist and twisted it. His body involuntarily sprang towards Ben.

  ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry…’

  Ben pulled him up close, and pressed his other hand into the guy’s face. The screams became muffled, and Jenny gasped when she saw blood running from his nose.

  ‘Ben, he’s bleeding. Let him go!’

  Ben removed his hand, stood up and pushed him hard in the back. Jenny watched the guy crash into the floor, and eventually get to his feet and stumble away.

  Ben picked up his beer.

  ‘You just assaulted him,’ Jenny said.

  ‘He assaulted you first.’

  ‘What did you do to him?’

  ‘It’s only a burst nose. He’ll clean it up in the toilet and stop being a dick.’

  Jenny was shocked, but strangely not discouraged. The boy was an idiot, and if she’d been on her own, he probably would’ve groped her. He deserved to be frightened off. And she deserved to be protected. If he’d not interfered with them, nothing would’ve happened. And she felt appreciated. Ben could be arrested for what he did, but he did it for her.

  ‘Let’s go somewhere else,’ she said. ‘I want to dance.’

  ‘I don’t dance.’

  ‘Then you might as well go and find someone else,’ she teased.

  Ben laughed. ‘Okay, I’ll dance, but you need to know that every single arm and leg move I do mortifies me.’

  She laughed too. ‘Don’t embarrass me. I can dance…’

  Jenny sat up on the edge of her bed and warned herself not to hope for too much. She didn’t need more hurt. But she felt so excited, and after making her way down the winding, oak stairs, and listening to his message on the answerphone, she couldn’t stop giggling.

  9

  ‘Jesus Christ, it’s freezing in here!’ Dave rubbed his arms as he stepped into Ryan’s room.

  ‘Can you smell anything?’ Ryan asked him.

  ‘Such as?’

  ‘Dope.’

  Dave gawked at him like a fish. ‘You’re smoking cannabis?’

  Ryan tutted. ‘Not me, you fucking idiot. Ginger smoked it in here.’

  Dave turned his palms outwards. ‘And who the hell is Ginger?’

  ‘Geezer I met down the gym.’ Ryan stretched out on his bed.

  ‘And you let him smoke in your room?’

  Ryan noticed Dave’s head tilt thirty-odd degrees, a telltale indication that he was either in disbelief, deep in thought, or about to give several examples to make one simple point. Dave’s progressive model of feedback; he hears something, probes anything in his head resembling opposition, then presents his argument like a maze, starting near the middle and taking numerous wrong turns before the exit.

  ‘Yeah, I let him smoke,’ Ryan confirmed. ‘Can you smell any?’

  Dave inhaled. ‘No I can’t, which isn’t surprising – your windows are wide open.’ He moved over to them and closed them. ‘It’s nearly midnight in the middle of September. Do you really want pneumonia?’ He shook his head. ‘I can’t understand why you let him do that. You hate druggies.’

  Ryan sniffed. ‘Yeah I do, but Ginger’s different. He knows what he’s talking about. I respect him and have to accept his shortcomings. It’s his way of life.’

  The shock soon dissipated for Dave. Very little Ryan said or did could surprise him anymore, though drugs had been one thing he thought his friend would never embrace. The man was a complete hypocrite, a lunatic with whom he had the misfortune of being good mates.

  At times Dave worried that he might be pulled into Ryan’s insane world. He could pinpoint when Ryan had lost it, but the illness had worsened because Ryan didn’t care and didn’t want to listenHHHhHHHHHhhhhHjjjjj. Was this the same with every sufferer? Could it become a comfort when your thoughts and behaviour were sucked into the vortex of madness? Was it too late for anyone to help when this stage was reached? If that was the case, we must rely on our friends to warn us. Well, this nutcase couldn’t warn him! He could ask other people if he was still the same, but that’s close to paranoia. Besides, Ryan and him had pretty much kept themselves to themselves. That had always been the way. Right now, he wished it hadn’t been.

  ‘You must have made friends with that bloke very quickly,’ he said.

  Ryan detected a hint of jealousy. Well what did Dave expect? There was too much in his life now that could not be shared with Dave. He needed a similar train of thought, not discouragement. ‘Yeah, we hit it off straight away…Well, not quite straight away.’

  Dave pulled at his shirt. ‘What happened to the meticulous process of learning about someone? What about your views on pre-judging?’

  ‘I know, lad. Ginger’s an exception. You’d probably think the same.’

  Dave shook his head firmly. ‘We’re talking about a druggie, Ryan. If he impresses you then fine.’ Dave cocked his head and his eye contact didn’t waver. He pointed a finger at Ryan. ‘But don’t compare my standards with yours, when it comes to this. You can change your outlook, but don’t even dare to manipulate mine.’

  Dave was at his most serious and Ryan had to suppress a smile, something he’d learnt to do years ago. Every time it was as if a cartoon character was threatening him. He half expected Dave to hover in the air - his feet spinning like a wheel - and then sprint off to the horizon, leaving a cloud of dust behind. But Dave meant well and this didn’t happen often. He shouldn’t have said anything. This outburst was to be expected. Dave was still staring at him like he was part of a dream.

  ‘Have you thought about how he funds his addiction?’ Dave asked, and then paused longer than usual. Ryan knew he had to speak.

  ‘I don’t know if it’s addiction, Da
ve, it may just be recreation.’

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Dave jeered. ‘That’s what they all say. I speak from experience when I tell you that the majority of addicts commit crime to supply the funds. Think about that. Also, is it just for personal use or does he supply? Does he sell to innocent kids who haven’t a clue what they’re getting themselves into? And before you know it, they’re hooked like this Ginger slag. And then the cycle begins for them – Crime, drugs, supply.’ Dave had turned red. ‘If that’s a friend for you, then fine.’

  ‘Dave, I hear what you’re saying. I don’t know everything about him yet. I’ll have to do some digging.’ Should shut him up, Ryan thought.

  Dave shook his head again. ‘I just can’t believe I’m hearing this from you. You meet some bloke, and days later let him smoke drugs in your room!’ Dave fidgeted uncomfortably… ‘Ryan, about three weeks ago you were talking to me about trying homosexuality.’ A long nervous pause... ‘Tell me you haven’t let Ginger bugger you!’

  Ryan laughed. ‘No, Ginger’s not gay!’

  ‘Well thank God for that!’ Dave rubbed his eyes. ‘I need to use the loo. I take it there’s one on this floor?’

  ‘Yeah, turn right,’ Ryan said.

  Dave nodded and left the room.

  Ryan waited until he heard Dave returning along the corridor and then asked, ‘How’s Col?’

  ‘Same as always. He’s dating now though. A woman called Stacey.’

  ‘Yeah?’ Ryan responded, intrigued. ‘What’s she like?’

  ‘Fat dicks and gin apparently.’

  Ryan laughed. ‘The boy can pull. You met her?’

  Dave closed the door. ‘Why did you move into this hell-hole?’ he asked.

  Ryan glared at him, annoyed that he’d changed the subject. ‘You’d better learn some manners, boy.’

  Unperturbed by his friend’s latest mood swing, Dave walked to the window. ‘Erm, what are you talking about?’

  Ryan ignored the comment. He wouldn’t let Dave wind him up. He thought of the guilt he’d feel afterwards. It was damage limitation, an intelligent strategy. ‘What’s wrong with the place?’