Psycho Inside Me

by Bonnie R. Paulson

  The next time I’d seen them, I doubted they recognized me. I’d chopped my hair and dyed it blond. Yeah, my mom had freaked over that. Needless to say, my rebellious years had taken on a decidedly different twist. If she’d seen my tattoo, she might have fainted.

  Deegan didn’t talk to me much. But when I did see him he’d give me a smile like he’d been saving it just for me. Like we shared a secret more intimate than the death of a bully, more like a lovers’ tryst or something. I liked the idea of an affair. It seemed so much more romantic than what it really was.

  Knock, knock. “Cassie, are you in there?” Dad’s deep voice carried easily through the older wood.

  I jerked upright from pulling my cargo pants on. “Yeah, but not dressed yet, Dad.” He didn’t need to see me in my small white bra decorated with a mini pink rosebud. Like my breasts. Mini. Ugh. I pulled on my clingy Def Leppard tee I’d bought at a second hand store. Yeah, my style had changed in a year, too. “Come on in, Dad. I’m decent.” Decently dressed anyway.

  He pushed open the door and looked around the room. “Oh, wow. Um. I haven’t been in here in a while.” He cleared his throat and tried capturing my gaze. But I avoided making eye contact. My eyes had to be brimming with guilt. He’d see it. Dad saw everything.

  “Yeah. Well.” My bangle bracelets of hammered stainless steel clinked once they’d settled on my wrist. I slipped on a ring molded to look like a single knot in barbed wire – reminding me of Deegan’s arm. Bending at the waist, I towel-dried my shoulder length hair with vigorous rubbing. I flipped my hair behind me when I stood. “What’s up, Dad?” I wasn’t a blonde anymore – and it wasn’t so short.

  “Um. I just wanted to tell you happy birthday, you know, before you go down into the familial mess.” He laughed at his own joke.

  Offering a smile out of courtesy, I nodded. “Thanks.”

  He stepped forward, holding out a small box in his hand. “I saw this and thought you’d like it.”

  Uncertain of the significance attached to the gift, I took it slowly, as if it might bite me. Not many things had come without a price of guilt lately. “Okay. Thanks.” Again. I glanced at the door. Maybe he’d pick up my attempts at telekinetically telling him to get the hell out of my room. But who was I kidding? Dad didn’t even think bad words.

  Arms folded, he watched me. Waiting.

  Oh, man. I hated opening presents in front of people. I hadn’t quite gotten down how to hide my true emotions. If I didn’t like the present, the gift-giver would know before I knew. I tightened my lips into a practiced smile in preparation for whatever Bible inspired item about to be revealed.

  The plain white gift box opened easily when I lifted the top. Resting next to a curvy pen, a leather-bound journal about four inches long and three inches wide called to me. I couldn’t help the “Oh.” That escaped me on a whisper. I loved blank journals with a passion I’d never be able to disguise.

  He pointed to the soft-as-butter cover. “You could write whatever you want in it.”

  “Yeah, that’s my favorite part.” The book’s small size would make it easy to hide. Possibilities were endless.

  “Should we join the party? Some more guests arrived.” He stepped out into the hall, a clear invitation for me to follow him.

  “Sure.” Maybe Deegan had opted to show up fashionably late. I’d accept that reason. I stored my gift on my desk. I couldn’t wait to study it better alone.

  ~~~

  He hadn’t shown. Mom had invited everyone on my social media site – including Deegan Ford. Only about five had shown – my closest friend, Kari, and a few of the other girls we hung out with. The preacher’s daughter stigma stuck like jelly. I’d never get away from it, even after my gradual metamorphosis. If I took drugs or slutted around, I’d still be the social pariah no one wanted to be seen with.

  Blotches covered Kari’s normally freckled cheeks. She’d been crying, but for how long and why? I bumped shoulders with her after her third trip to the bathroom. “I’m the one who’s supposed to cry over getting old, not you.”

  “Sorry.” She shook her head, strawberry blond curls dancing around her collarbones. “I’m not feeling like myself today.” She reached for a potato chip. A purplish oval darkened the flesh above her wrist.

  The bruise. Crying. I grabbed her arm, but not tight enough to hurt her and pulled her to the corner. “Kari, what’s going on?”

  Eyes wide, Kari scanned my house. I looked over the guests, too. Not one person seemed threatening or capable of more than eating my mother’s appetizers and laughing too loudly. Except my little brother. If he drank one more root beer float, he’d drown in sugar.

  I lowered my voice and spoke slow to keep her calm. “Come on, Kari. You can trust me. Why are you crying and where’d you get that bruise?”

  She hunched her shoulders and sucked in a breath I didn’t hear her release. Head bent, Kari tucked a swath of swaying curls behind her ear, watching me from the side. “My uncle’s in town – visiting.”

  “Okay.” I had to be missing something, maybe the punch line?

  She pressed her lips together and closed her eyes. A memory from the year before snaked into my mind. “Oh, no. Not that uncle. I thought you talked with your parents – your dad. Didn’t they do anything? Why is he back?”

  “I did, but Dad called me a liar and Mom said I was confused. I backed out of it after that. No reason to cause problems, right? I thought for sure he wouldn’t come back.” She drew in a second ragged breath.

  The scent of the over-sugary cake mixed with the cloying perfume of one of my mom’s friends struck me – hard. At the same time the tingling in my abdomen grew into, not discomfort, but something I definitely needed to deal with.

  “Did he do it again?” The last time had caused nightmares and she’d run to my house for help with the bleeding.

  “No, he gripped my wrist so hard when he said hello. He’s visiting family in Seattle but plans on coming back next weekend. He offered to hang out with me and my brothers so my parents can go to dinner and a movie.” She stifled a sob. “I’m worried he might hurt them, too.” The pain Kari had dealt with had taken a while to control. Her little brothers wouldn’t be able to defend themselves or get over the abuse so easily. The youngest had just had his sixth birthday.

  Fear radiated off her with the scent of throw up. I threw my arm over her shoulder and pulled her against my side. “I’ll take care of it. Stop stressing out. Just breathe okay. He hasn’t done it yet.”

  Somehow I had to protect Kari. Her parents hadn’t done anything. They refused to believe her. She’d been too scared to go to the police. And who wouldn’t be? If her parents didn’t believe her, then why would the cops? It’d been too late for a rape kit or anything when I’d finally talked her into going to the hospital because of all the blood. The staff had confirmed non-consensual sex, but no other evidence of rape. At thirteen. Like she’d asked for it.

  Anger must have been the emotion creating the friction in my stomach, filling my limbs with heat.

  “I promise. Come stay next weekend. My brother loves your brothers. We’d all have a blast. We can do this.” The beginnings of a plan sparked in my mind. I could do it. I motioned to Mom who joined us. I didn’t give Kari the chance to think it through. “Hey, Mom. This party is so fun. Thanks again.” I motioned to Kari who wiped hurriedly at her wet cheeks. “We were just talking. Would it be okay if Kari and her brothers stayed next weekend? Like a big slumber party?”

  My less-than-active social life over the last year must have worried Mom because she jumped a little too eagerly at the idea. “I think it’s a great idea. We can do s’mores and hot cocoa. I’ll call your mom, Kari, and make the plans.” She patted my arm and grinned.

  Kari placed her hand in mine after my mom left to talk to another guest. “Do you really think we can avoid him?”

  “Yeah. Come over after school Friday. It’ll be fun.” I pulled her toward the snacks. “I won’t even
make you run with me.” That got a giggle out of her. Kari hated exercise.

  So had I until I couldn’t move the body of a boy I’d killed and had to run. Until I’d discovered running was the only way to keep in contact with Deegan. Not that I thought he would forget me or what had happened, more like part of me worried about that and another part of me worried that he wouldn’t forget, might let what we’d done slip. But we had ink that tied us together. At least that one afternoon was etched into our skin.

  I owed Deegan a lot. He’d kept me in shape and while I might not be able to move a body a year later, I could run without breathing hard and cramping. Escape would always be an option.

  Chapter 4

  Kari and her brothers walked home with me from school. I’d traded the river route for a saner walk through neighborhoods and past stores. So boring. But I didn’t want to tempt fate. Who knew how many people had seen me down by the river, or walk down that way.

  Deegan had warned me against making too many changes to my day-to-day life. The search had gone on for a while. In private I still shook with fear I was about to get caught. But at school or around town, I felt bad for the poor-missing-high-school-boy-why-hadn’t-they-found-him-such-promise kid. And even when the Js had cornered me at the junior high a week after the incident, I’d acted innocent like it’d been someone else they’d trapped on the rocks that day.

  Kari and the boys agreed to stopping at the Rocket Bakery and I bought them all a plate-sized cookie with milk. I couldn’t touch the stuff. Sugar made me nauseous since the birthday party. My hands shook on a constant basis and I hadn’t been able to concentrate, but my senses had been heightened. Sunday would be my anniversary.

  The school had held a mandatory assembly before lunch. I’d sat next to Kari, laughing at the cheerleaders rah-rahing without a game going on. Bobby’s disappearance had been the focus for an hour and a half. Sweat had slickened my hands and I’d swallowed so many times my tongue should’ve been in my stomach. Nothing could make me look at Deegan and yet every atom in my body had yearned to be near him. Every time the door opened, certainty welled inside me that they had come – the cops – for me. I’d die in prison. Oh, hell.

  The same story haunted me to the bakery. I couldn’t escape Bobby’s death. No one knew what had happened. Any witnesses or anyone with new information would be given a reward – a new development – but I’d focused more on what they didn’t say. Nothing had changed. I’d gotten away with killing someone. Killing had changed me.

  It’s not like I planned on doing it again.

  ~~~

  Kari’s uncle called my house three times before six wondering if he could come pick up the kids and take them to ice cream. My mom glared at the phone as she hung it up the last time. “Why is he so insistent? Kari, honey, are you sure you guys wouldn’t rather go for ice cream with your uncle? He seems really disappointed that you’re over here.”

  My friend looked at me and shook her head. “No, thank you, Mrs. Mulligan. We’d rather hang out here.” She focused her attention on the cookie dough my mom had asked her to roll out and cut with fun little summer shapes.

  In another hour it’d start to get dark. An hour after that, I’d need to get ready for my run.

  ~~~

  I laced up my favorite running shoes and pushed my dark blue and purple striped knee highs down to leg warmer height. Even in May, the nights had a threatening chill to them once the sun set. Joining everyone in the living room, I rolled my shoulders and swung my arms. “Hey, guys, I’ll be back in about an hour. We all good here?”

  Some action movie with Dwayne Johnson flickered on the screen opposite me.

  Mouths chomping on caramel corn and cookies prepared earlier, everyone in the room pretty much ignored me. Except for Mom. She waved a handful of popcorn my way and called over her shoulder. “Okay, dear. Tell Deegan you have company and that you’re doing the shorter route, okay? That one has more lights and I won’t have to worry about you two so much.”

  “Mom. Don’t worry about me. I run all the time.” I rolled my eyes and clipped my bangs back.

  She laughed, choking on the pop she’d just sipped. “Cassie. Womb to tomb. Got it?”

  “Got it. Love you. See you guys in a bit.” And I left using the garage door.

  Womb to tomb. Something she said to remind me that worrying for a mom never stops. Worry from the moment the baby gets in the womb until the child is in the tomb at an old age. Yeah, my mom made jokes about creepy stuff like that.

  Settling into the jog had become second nature. My legs moved without thought on my part. Arms swung in relaxed tension. I liked to pinch my thumbs to my middle fingers with a loose contact point so that my hands didn’t tense up. A trick I’d picked up from someone on the cross country team at school. The entire last week I hadn’t seen Deegan for our runs. I almost called him twice, but pride made me put the phone down. If he wanted to see me, he would see me.

  Under sunlight so many interesting aspects of the world dimmed. But at night, the true nature of things – animals, people, even plants – came out. If I limited my noises to the soft padding of my feet, I could hear anything from fights inside homes to someone practicing an instrument. Dogs growling or whimpering, cats meowing. Phones ringing and the soft murmur of televisions would follow me as I passed each yard.

  My feet didn’t slide. I didn’t allow it. First my heels, then I rolled my feet to where I pushed off using the ball. A steady rhythm that kept me on path, on schedule. I’d have to keep it quick, if I wanted to make it home within an hour.

  The other direction from my normal route, Kari’s home didn’t look like it held a pedophile inside. Honestly, Bobby hadn’t seemed like someone who would willingly rape a young girl. I wondered many times since he’d tried to hurt me, how many other girls he had raped or hurt. The validity of the question made me nauseous. He and his friends had been too comfortable with the act and knowing each other’s parts.

  Not for the first time did I question if the Js continued raping and scaring other girls. Should we have done something to them? Made sure they stopped? I’d never know if they hurt anyone else. I hadn’t known before. Why would that change?

  Building up over the last year, any time I’d remembered the seconds of that moment with Bobby, my stomach had tingled with heat. Standing in front of Kari’s house, the warmth spread, coursing through me to my hands and toes, up to my hairline. If I was so dang warm, then why were my hands shaking?

  Everything sharpened, came into focus. A gate connected the two long sections of chain link fence around their yard. Pushing open the waist-high door, I disturbed the yard and the combined scents of newly mowed grass and fertilizer filled the air.

  The lights were on. In the living room, upstairs in Kari’s room which grossed me out, and downstairs in the basement. I didn’t know what he was doing, what he looked like, or even what exactly I thought I could accomplish, but if he was up in Kari’s room, his motives couldn’t be what my dad would call “pure”. He’d hurt Kari before and I’d be damned if I’d let him do it again.

  Strong enough to talk to him, confident enough to try. I could try. I was smaller than Kari, but size didn’t matter. I wasn’t afraid of him – I could say it over and over and I almost believed it. He wouldn’t hurt me. My friend deserved someone to stick up for her.

  Another careful step forward, I didn’t want to disturb any of the toys or landscaping. The last thing I needed to do was leave my footprints anywhere. On one of those late night cop shows, I saw the police break the case with just a shoe print. Yeah. Not me.

  I shook my head and squeezed my hands. The night wasn’t going to end the same way it had with Bobby. Pure terror filled me that I’d even consider her uncle’s death. Argumentatively though, he’d hurt her so bad. Blood had stained my mattress where she’d tried to sleep.

  The closer to the house I got, the more my breathing shallowed. I’d had all week to work out the details and I’d only gotten far
enough to figure out I’d use my run as an excuse to leave. Tilting my head back, I breathed in, trying to slow my heart rate. Wouldn’t do me any good to pass out on the front lawn.

  Rough and warm, a hand clamped on my bicep and swung me around. I slapped my fingers over my mouth to muffle my scream, but a slight moan escaped anyway. Facing my captor, I stepped back, unable to see him clearly in the dark. “What?” Maybe her uncle watched the house, waiting for Kari or something.

  The man pulled me into his space, my arm touching the muscles on his chest. Yeah, no one was built like the guy holding me. Only Deegan could make me feel like my knees had fallen off somewhere. His whisper heated the warmth to lava. “What are you doing?”

  I jerked my head back, my mouth falling open. “Me? What are you doing? You didn’t come to my birthday party. We haven’t run since then.” Oh, my word. Did I sound pouty or what? No idea why that mattered at the exact moment, but it came out anyway. My mind wasn’t exactly normal when he was around or when my self-assigned mission involved confronting a man who liked to rape girls like me for fun.

  Lights from the house reflected off Deegan’s teeth when he grinned. “Cassie, this is hardly my idea of a party. And I had some things to work out.” His teeth disappeared but twinkles from his eyes said he focused on me or what he could see of me. “What are you doing, doll?” Like he knew I had a different reason for being there than visiting.

  “I’m visiting Kari.” Lying. Crap. I lied through my teeth to the one person who knew my worst secret. Shame sent heat to my cheeks. In that second I was grateful for the night surrounding us.

  Thou shalt not lie.

  His grip loosened into something of a caress. “Cassie. Kari’s at your house. Come on. It’s me. What are you doing?” Repeating the question had some kind of magical influence on me.

  I lowered my head, fingering the sharp, double-edged knife I’d bought myself the previous Christmas. No more fingernail files for me. I’d left the weak Cassie on that river as she’d tried to roll over the body of a boy who hadn’t deserved even a watery grave. Not that I was judging. And now, I was stronger. I could make sure I was protected, take on another Bobby with intent, make him stop, and protect myself. No longer was I the victim. “I’m not doing anything.” The knife snugged against the small of my back in the sheath I’d clipped to the elastic band of my pants.