5. 2
I spent a lot of my time in a tortured mental state, so unsure of what was real and what was imaginary.
The character I played at school began to become a chore.
I was getting tired of pretending to be perfect and had to work extra hard to keep my grades up because my mind just kept wandering and I felt impatient like I was waiting for the final act.
I’d been waiting all of my life, and I was sick of it.
I wondered what it would have been like to have a normal life without these constant nightmares of the past and grisly visions of the future, where I would finally break and murder my parents for their sins.
I felt angry with them. Because of what they did, I had suffered for my entire life.
I felt so alone. Even Briar had ghosted me ever since she had seen Bess.
In reality, Bess was the only person I had that I could talk to and that was a sad state of fucking affairs when my only confidante was an inanimate doll.
But Bess didn’t answer my questions when I fished for information, so I went to the public library on High Street and tried to look through old newspaper articles to find out anything relating to Savannah and what had happened to her.
I came up empty. But surely something this heinous would have been reported.
The press would have loved hashing out the juicy details and it would have held front page for weeks.
But there was nothing. Just when I thought that all of this was a figment of my imagination, I decided to try looking through birth, marriage and death records.
That’s when I struck gold. I jumped up and fucking screamed with joy when I saw her and was abruptly cautioned by the stern looking librarian, an old crone with skin as yellow and crinkly as the ageing books that she cared for.
Savannah was standing dressed in a cheerleader outfit with a good-looking guy in his football kit, outside of that old house at the end of Lull Lane, the one that was off limits because it was classed as dangerous, only in this photo it was well kept and tidy.
My parents had always warned me never to go to that house.
Its rickety old, rusty gates covered in blood red climbing roses with sharp thorns had been chained shut for as long as I can remember.
Mom told me an old witch lived there who liked to eat children and if I dared go there then she would come through my bedroom window at night and steal me away to be boiled in her cauldron.
I shook my head. My mom sure was one sadistic bitch.
Nowadays, the house was a crumbling mess.
No one lived there, the family or more specifically, Savannah’s family had left long ago, but it had always been a local place of interest that had scared kids for years.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that I wasn’t losing it.
Savannah was a real person and now I saw her in front of me, I felt more determined than ever to help her.
I cursed the guy in the photo who had actually touched her and fucked her.
Prick. It also occurred to me that Savannah’s family must have been wealthy, and I would stake my life on it that they paid for the “problem” to be kept out of the press, that’s why I couldn’t find anything on it.
Mulling it all over, I made my way back home, humming the melody that had become a staple part of my life.
* * *
Dad had fallen into a relationship with Angel, who was no longer hooking, but practically living with him now, and they were burning their way through his fortune spending it on drugs and alcohol.
I went round to his house, namely, to escape my mother, but after my findings, I also had questions about Savannah.
Despite it being past noon, the blinds were still drawn when I let myself in with the spare key that dad had given me.
There was a horrific stench of rotten garbage, and the house looked less like the glamourous abode of old and more like the quintessential junkie’s crack house.
Dishes were piled high in the sink, remnants of food waste on them and pizza boxes were stacked next to an overflowing trash can around which a horde of flies greedily buzzed.
Items of clothing and shoes were strewn over the place, and the coffee table was full of stains, half-filled glasses and an overflowing ashtray.
I baulked as I narrowly side stepped a pile of vomit that had solidified on the expensive red rug.
Fuck me. How did things get so bad, so quickly?
I pulled open the blinds and the room was flooded with light, further highlighting the abysmal state of the place.
Suddenly, I heard the sounds of fucking.
Really dad? This place is a shithole and all you care about is sex.
Disgusted, I stormed into his bedroom and nearly threw up.
The smell in here was worse. It was a mixture of cigarette smoke, unwashed bodies, and a rotten sex smell like dirty genitalia.
Angel was on top of my dad, her body pale and scrawny, her peroxide hair needed the roots doing badly and it was a matted mess.
She turned her head when she heard me enter and her eyes were sunken, but were still caked with thick makeup, which looked like it had been on for a couple of days.
“Hey look who it is! Want to join?” she said brashly, smiling at me, her teeth looking browner than I remembered.
I heard a guttural moan as my dad emptied into her fetid cunt and when she got off him I could see his cock was thick with lumpy, cottage cheese-like semen and the beginnings of warts around his glans.
I was glad I stood my ground about not fucking a disease spreading, junkie whore.
Angel staggered towards me, my dad’s semen dribbling down her inner thighs. The smell of fish and body odor was overwhelming, and it made me cough.
“D’you want a drink baby?” she said to my dad.
“Sure honey. Get me a scotch. There should still be some ice in the freezer.” Dad sat up, his face ashen and wizened.
He looked like he’d aged twenty years. Gone was the strapping CEO of a successful company and in its place was a shriveled, emaciated addict.
He coughed and wheezed as he lit up a joint, the smell of marijuana permeating the air.
I felt torn. Was this punishment enough?
No, a voice from within said, it was just the start of his pain.
“What the fuck dad? Why are you wasting away in this hovel with a slut like her?!” I exclaimed.
“Don’t talk about Angel like that! I love her and soon we are going to get married.”
“Jesus dad, wake up! You’re her meal ticket. She doesn’t give a fuck about you, she’s playing you,” I retorted. I glanced at the side of the bed and saw a sawn-off shotgun propped up against the nightstand. Dad followed my gaze.
“You can’t be too careful. There are vultures everywhere, waiting to pick my bones clean,” he said, sounding like someone who definitely needed to be committed. At that point I had no idea who was crazier, me or him.
“What happened with you and Savannah dad?” I said, gauging his reaction. His eyes bugged out and he snarled at me.
“Don’t you ever mention that name in front of me you hear!”
“But why?”
“It was a long time ago, we were all stupid kids back then,” he said, beginning to howl in anguish. Angel came staggering in like a lost waif, two glasses of scotch in her bony hands, her nails still painted in a garish hue.
“What’s the matter baby?!” she cooed, slurring. Dad grabbed one of the glasses and drained it, still sniffling and wailing like I’d stabbed him. In a swift moment, he grabbed the shotgun and aimed it at me.
“Get out! Get out of my house! Leave us be! Go back to the fucking mansion that I left you, you fucking leech!”
“Braiden calm down!!” Angel squealed as I flung myself towards the floor. Dad pulled the trigger, but the gun wasn’t loaded.
I leapt up, anger overtaking me, and snatched the gun out of his trembling hands.
“You motherfucker! You were going to kill me, your only child, to live in this cesspit with a coke head whore?! Do you know what? Fuck it. OD and die for all I care! This is coming with me, before you do any more damage!” I grabbed a trash bag and stormed out of the house secreting the shotgun inside, like a veritable gunslinger.
In the glorious fresh air, I knew that when the time came, I wouldn’t give a fuck if I had to end my dad’s miserable existence.
I got into my car and drove back home, knowing that soon everything would be over.
I hid the gun in the back of my closet and got changed into my swim shorts deciding to go for a dip to cool myself off both mentally and physically.
As I swam I began to daydream. I saw Savannah in her cheerleading outfit, her long hair shiny and flowing, the short skirt stopping just below her ass cheeks.
I felt hard and wished that I could have fucked her.
I wouldn’t have hurt her like my dad did.
She would have been my girl. But then the thought struck me, if Savannah was a real person and still alive, then she would be the same age as my parents.
Ew gross. That totally weirded me out and my erect cock quickly diminished.
I would no longer have wet dreams about someone that was as old as my mom.
I was still hungry for answers to understand this curse that had plagued me my whole life, so I got out of the pool and went to find my mom.
Maybe she would give me a better answer than my dad did.
She was in her yoga room, surprisingly alone, sitting on the mat in a pigeon pose, her eyes closed as she meditated. I leaned against the wall, contemplating whether I should interrupt her or not.
“What is it Caspian?” she asked, her eyes open, but still holding the pose.
“What happened in high school with Savannah?” I said, figuring she’d either be mad or tell me the truth. She seemed startled and got up grabbing a towel and dabbing her face.
“That’s a name I’ve not heard for a long time,” she answered, narrowing her eyes, “who told you about her?! “
“Never mind who told me. You all hurt her didn’t you? Why? She was your friend,” I said, feeling awash with a bunch of different feelings, anger, betrayal, sadness and the need for revenge.
“Savannah was a slut who thought she was better than everyone else. Her parents were filthy rich, and she was beautiful. Your dad and I weren’t rich back then, and I didn’t look a million dollars like I do now.”
“So y’all beat on her because you were jealous?” I said, incredulous.
“How did you know about all that?! Someone squealed didn’t they? Was it your father?”
“No. I saw it in my dreams,” I said, glad to actually share my burden with someone, even if it was my cretin of a mother.
“Caspian are you serious? You are not doing drugs are you? When you go to college, what you do is your business, but when you’re under my roof I won’t have you being a junkie.”
“Like you give a fuck about me mom. You don’t care anymore; in fact I don’t think you ever did.
I don’t fit into your life anymore because you are fucking around pretending to be in love with Youri to make yourself feel valid and wanted.
He’s only with you for the lifestyle you can give him.
He doesn’t love you. No one could love you!
” I snarled and then I felt the sharp sting of her hand as she struck my face.
“I knew there was something wrong with you that night we saw you on camera wandering around the grounds when you were six. You said something about that fucking doll and your dreams then. That’s why I buried it.
You went rooting around in the trash cans and sliced open your feet with a broken bottle. ”
I bristled, rubbing my cheek.
“You will all pay for what you did to her, and it will be sooner rather than later,” I growled, walking out of the yoga studio.
“Haha really? The dirty slut and boyfriend, who I might add was her own stepbrother, are long gone. Anyway, I’d like to see her try. She wouldn’t even get past the gates.”
My mother. No remorse, believing the torture and rape of Savannah to be justified. I wanted to bludgeon her right then, but I knew I just had to wait a little longer for the grand plan to click into place. And there was no worry about anyone getting past the gates. The weasel was already inside.