by Amy Cross
“I really don't think it's fair to blame me,” Victoria replied.
“Blame you? What's there to blame you for? Life's great!”
“I think Isobel and I should get going,” Victoria continued. “I just came to make sure that he new friend was okay, but evidently she has you, so...”
Her voice trailed off as she spotted what looked like a used condom on the ground, glistening in the afternoon sunlight.
“It was lovely to see you again,” Victoria stammered, gripping Isobel's hand tight and leading her away, back toward the path. “Come on, Isobel. We need to -”
“I guess maybe I should blame you,” Emma said suddenly.
Victoria stopped and looked back at her.
“For what happened to me, I mean,” Emma continued, and now the smile was gone from her lips. “If anyone's gonna get blamed. It was pretty fucking mean, what you did. Tattling on me like that, when I'd already told you my Daddy was so mean. It's almost like you wanted to get me in all this trouble. If it hadn't been for what you did, I'd never have been shipped off to camp, I'd never have fallen in with that bad crowd, and my life would've turned out very different. Maybe I'd be all fancy and normal like you.”
“Your life is your life,” Victoria replied. “You made your own choices.”
“Yeah, but... It was still mean, that's all I'm saying.” Emma took another drag on her cigarette. “I think you knew what you were doing. You screwed me over that day in the church. You screwed me big time.”
Victoria shook her head. “No, I -”
“Was that your revenge for me being a bad girl”? Emma asked. “Come on, I'm curious, why did you turn me in? What was going through that pretty little head of yours?”
“That silverware belonged to the church,” Victoria replied, “and -”
“Yeah, but no-one really cares about all that crap! Be honest, woman! Why'd you go running off to tell on me?”
Victoria opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out. Instead, she simply stared at Emma and felt a sense of great disgust.
“You can look at me like that all you want,” Emma muttered, “but you know that what you did was wrong. I might've been a little rebellious back then, but it's thanks to you that I got set in stone before I had a chance to change. I'm not saying none of it's my fault, but I reckon you knew exactly what you were doing that day, and you did it anyway.”
“Your life is your own responsibility,” Victoria told her. “You stole, and I told someone. That doesn't make me a bad person.”
She waited for a reply, but now it was Emma's turn to stare.
“You made your own choices!” Victoria shouted after a few seconds. “If you're living out here, raising your feral little child and working as a common whore, that's got nothing to do with me, do you hear? It has everything to do with who you are, and what decisions you've made in your life, and your moral character! And if you're trying to blame other people and absolve yourself of all responsibility, then that's just another sign that you're a waste of space!”
“Is that right?” Emma replied, raising an amused, skeptical eyebrow.
“We're leaving!” Victoria hissed, holding Isobel's wrist tight and dragging her away.
“Mommy, why are you angry?” Isobel asked. “Why doesn't that lady like you?”
“Because she's an awful, awful person,” Victoria muttered darkly, refusing to look back even as she heard Emma calling after her, “and because she wants to blame other people for her own failings.”
“But -”
“No more questions! We have to go home now! And I don't want you playing with that Suzie girl ever again! Do you understand? You're not even to talk to her at school!”
“But she has no other friends! I'm -”
“I don't care! You'll do as you're told!”
“Yes, Mommy!”
Victoria could hear Emma laughing now, but she refused to look over her shoulder. She simply felt relieved that she'd learned the connection between Suzie and Emma before it was too late, and that she'd managed to steer her own daughter away from making such an awful friend. By the time they reached the car, parked at the side of the road, her heart was pounding and she was tempted to go back and yell at Emma some more, but finally she realized there was no point. The woman was a lost cause, and little Suzie was most likely ruined too.
“I'm not to blame for what happened to her,” Victoria whispered as she unlocked the car door. “I'm just not. And if she thinks I am, then that's her problem.”
Part Four
May 17th, 1991
“So how was that for a fortieth birthday blow-out, huh?” Daniel asked as he kissed the back of Victoria's neck. “I think we showed the world that we still know how to have a good time.”
“We sure did,” Victoria replied with a faint smile as she set her mother's old necklace back in the jewelry box.
“Of course, there's one other thing we still need to do,” he continued, placing his hands on her waist and giving her a gentle squeeze, which had always been his way of trying to initiate a little intimacy. “Looking at you tonight, honey, you're still as beautiful and sexy as you were that day I first met you. I guess I'm just lucky I married such a gorgeous woman.”
“I think I'm rather tired tonight,” she told him. “Perhaps we could -”
“It won't take long,” he continued, and now she felt his hot breath on her bare shoulder. A moment later, he reached up and began to unzip the back of her dress. “Well, you know what I mean. It'll take a little while, but that's how it's supposed to be. We should celebrate, right?”
She opened her mouth to tell him that she really wasn't in the mood, but deep down she knew it was already too late. She didn't want to be one of those wives who never satisfied her husband in the bedroom, and she supposed that the occasion of her fortieth birthday was reason enough to spice things up. Besides, Daniel had worked so hard to arrange a special evening, and she felt she owed him a little pleasure.
Suddenly the phone on the nightstand began to ring, and Victoria couldn't deny a sense of relief.
“Ignore it,” Daniel whispered.
“It might be important.”
He pulled the zip all the way down. “This is important.”
Reaching out, Victoria picked up the phone.
“Hello?” she said with an airy smile. “You've -”
“Can Dad pick me up?” Isobel asked, sounding a little upset on the other end of the line.
“Izzy?” Victoria immediately felt a flash of concern. “Izzy, what's wrong?”
“Nothing's wrong, Mom,” her daughter replied, “but I want to come home tonight. I don't want to stay at Valerie's after all. Is Dad busy? Can't he just come over and collect me?”
“You have to pick Izzy up,” Victoria said, turning to her husband. “She wants to come back.”
“Tell her -”
“It won't take long,” she added, passing the phone to him. “She sounds a little upset. You know what teenagers are like. Please, Daniel, you've only had one glass of wine tonight, just drive over and collect her. It'll take half an hour at most.”
As her husband spoke to their daughter on the phone, negotiating the terms of his willingness to go and fetch her, Victoria felt a rush of gratitude. She'd been fully prepared to give Daniel what he wanted, of course, but she much preferred to have him head off into the night and tire himself out a little. So when he finally got off the phone and said he had to take the car, she felt immensely relieved, and she thanked God for a little privacy as she stood at the window and waved her husband away.
And now the house was silent, and she was alone.
Almost alone.
She remained at the window for a moment, with her back to the dark bedroom, and slowly she became aware of a growing scratching sound coming from the hallway. She flinched slightly, but in truth she already knew what was coming. For many years now, she'd been consumed by recurring nightmares about her fortieth birthday, convinced that
she would be visited by the same creature that had once pursued her through the forest. She didn't know what the creature was called, or what it looked like, but she felt certain it was the same thing that she had met when she'd been out at night with Emma many years earlier.
And tonight it had come for her, just as it had promised in her dreams.
She waited, listening as the sound came closer. Its breathing was heavy and strained, grunting a little, and a moment later she heard the legs of the corner chair scraping against the floor, which meant the creature was now well into the room. She could turn and see its face, of course, but instead she simply continued to stare out the window. Her entire body was tingling now, filled with a sense of anticipation as she wondered what the creature was going to do next. Even now, she could sense its vast appetite, and she knew without a shadow of doubt that it had been lusting after her for many years.
Waiting.
Biding its time.
A shudder passed through her body as she felt its hot breath on her neck. Seconds later, a large, heavy hand rested on her shoulder, but still she didn't dare turn to look at the creature's face. Even as its other hand slipped down onto her waist, next to the zipper that her husband had already so conveniently pulled down to expose her bare back, she simply continued to face the window. The creature could do what it wanted, would do what it wanted regardless, so she reasoned that there was no point trying to fight back.
Not that she wanted to fight anyway.
She wanted what it wanted.
Perhaps it had entered her life because of Emma, but Emma had been merely a catalyst.
It had no interest in Emma.
It wanted Victoria.
She knew that. She was proud of that.
And now she closed her eyes, ready for it to do whatever it pleased.
“Promise me one thing,” she whispered finally, as she felt its grip tighten on her waist. She'd intended not to speak to the creature, but now – as she felt its hot breath on her shoulder – she realized she had to say this. “Promise me...”
She hesitated, as she saw not only her own reflection in the dark window but also, a little further back, the reflection of something dark moving through the shadows.
“Promise me this won't be the only time,” she stammered. “Promise -”
The creature grunted, causing her to flinch and let out a faint, terrified gasp.
“Promise it won't just be tonight,” she continued, speaking faster now, desperately trying to get the words out in time. “Promise you'll come again and again, promise I won't be -”
Before she could finish, she was yanked back from the window and thrown across the room, landing hard enough on the bed that she almost bounced straight off the other side. Stunned, she sat up and turned just as a huge dark shape lunged at her, and she was quickly pushed back against the wall as large, thick claws tore at her clothes.
Part Five
August 3rd, 2016
“Yeah, so I'm picking up the birthday cake in the morning,” Isobel continued, her voice sounding a little tinny over the phone, “and then we'll start the party at one. You can make it, Mom, can't you? Louise is really looking forward to seeing you again.”
“I wouldn't miss it for anything,” Victoria replied, before hearing a beep that meant another caller was trying to get through. “Tell her that Granny will be there with a big gift for her!”
“Take care, Mom,” Isobel muttered. “And don't work too hard! Remember, you're retiring next month!”
“How could I forget?” Victoria asked with a sigh, cutting the call as she reached the nurses' station and then accepted the next call. “Retirement. Sixty-five and on the scrapheap. How wonderful.”
“Hey,” Daniel said, his voice immediately reassuring her. “Just calling to see if you wanna meet after your shift and get something to eat down at Applebee's. I know it's not Friday, but still... Well, you know, the house is so empty now Izzy and Debbie have both moved out, and it seems like it'd be more fun to shake things up and do Applebee's Friday on a Tuesday. Or is that too crazy? Tell me if I'm being crazy.”
“That sounds like a lovely plan,” she replied, before turning just in time to see a trolley being rushed along the corridor. “I think we have a new arrival, though, so I'll have to get off the phone. I'll see you at half five, at the restaurant, at our usual booth. If you get there before me, you know what I'll have.”
“No surprises?”
“No surprises. I love you, Daniel.”
As soon as she was off the phone, she joined the other nurses, who were already wheeling the latest patient into one of the rooms. Grabbing the chart from the end of the bed, Victoria stepped back and headed to the station so she could enter the patient's details into the system. She took a seat and logged onto the computer, before setting the chart down and taking a look at the first sheet of paper. Although her colleagues always found the paperwork rather tiresome, Victoria actually preferred to get things in order as quickly as possible. She hated chaos.
Her heart skipped a beat as soon as she saw the patient's name.
***
“So I'll get back to you later,” Doctor Atkinson said as he reached the door and turned back to look over at the bed, “and we'll see what we can do, but I really don't want to give you false hope. It may well be that removing the leg will be the best option.”
As the doctor headed away, Victoria approached the doorway. She'd been avoiding the room for a few hours now, but her shift was coming to an end and she felt as if she had to at least pay a quick visit. There was even a part of her that hoped she was mistaken, that the name on the chart had just been a coincidence. As soon as she looked into the room, however, she saw that she'd been right all along, and she knew it was too late to turn back.
“Hello, Emma.”
The woman in the bed – in her late sixties now but looking two decades older – turned to Victoria with puffy, ringed eyes. For a moment, there was no hint of recognition on her face, and she stared with her mouth hanging slightly open, but finally a faint flicker crossed her lips. Almost a smile.
“I don't know if you remember me,” Victoria continued, stepping into the room, “but -”
“Sure I do,” Emma replied. “Sure I -”
Suddenly she burst into a coughing fit, and for a moment it sounded as if she was about to bring up a lung. Her entire body shook, rattling the metal bed frame, and Victoria began to wonder if she should offer to help. The fit finally passed, however, and Emma tried to sit up a little higher.
“Gangrene,” she murmured. “Right leg's probably hopeless, left one might be okay. The doctor wasn't sure. Turns out, sleeping on the street has its drawbacks.”
“You...”
Victoria hesitated for a moment, feeling a sliver of pity. At least she knew now why her attempts to track Emma down over the past few years had yielded no results. No phone numbers, no address.
“I had a trailer for a while,” Emma continued, “but then some asshole burned it down. Can you believe that? A girl can't catch a break. Then again, I -”
She stopped suddenly, before frowning.
“Hey, are you a nurse here?” she asked.
“I am,” Victoria replied, “although... To be honest, I'm retiring in September. I've been here for more than thirty years. I expect I shall be given a clock when I leave. That's what they always give to people who've worked on the ward for more than a decade.”
“Is that right?” Emma smiled. “Well, good on you, girl. I never had you pegged as the medical type, but that's really cool. That's really fucking something.”
Again, she tried to sit up higher in the bed, although she winced as she felt a sharp pain in her legs.
“How's that little girl of yours?” she asked. “What was her name again?”
“Isobel,” Victoria replied, stepping a little further into the room. “Izzy. She's all grown-up. She has children of her own now.”
“So you're a grandmother?”
“I am. I have another daughter too, named Debbie. She has a boy and a girl.”
“No shit!” Emma laughed. “Wow! I remember when we were just kids ourselves, and now we're old bitches waiting to die!”
“And how is your daughter?” Victoria asked, flinching at Emma's use of foul language. “What was her name again? Sally? Suzie?”
“Suzie,” Emma replied, and now the smile faded from her lips. “Well, truth be told, things didn't work out too well there. She moved away when she was still a kid, and she didn't really want anything to do with me. I heard she got knocked up by the time she was fifteen, but she lost the baby. Then I didn't hear anything at all, until a while later when I found out she'd been killed in a traffic accident when she was eighteen. Turns out she was drunk at the wheel and drove straight into a truck, somewhere out near Toledo. God knows what she was doing there. Killed the other driver too, and his kid. A real mess.”
“I'm so sorry,” Victoria said, thinking back to the scrappy little girl she'd met more than thirty years earlier. “That's quite awful.”
“Ah, it stinks,” Emma muttered, “but she made her own decisions, like all of us. Maybe I could've tried to help her more, but I was serving time for... Well, what does it matter now, huh? That's eight years of my life I'm never gonna get back. I guess we're both too old and too tired to change anything, aren't we? I mean, you still look pretty good for your age, Vicky, but still...”
Her voice trailed off.
“You should've stayed with me in the forest that night,” she added. “I could've introduced you to -”
“Absolutely not,” Victoria replied, shuddering at the thought.
“You didn't want to meet the Devil?”
“The Devil?” At this, Victoria paused. “I'm sure -”
She paused, thinking back to the creature that had chased her that night. She'd been visited since, every ten years since her fortieth birthday, but she was quite sure it hadn't been the Devil.
