by Grant Hunter
‘You have to talk about it.’
‘Never.’
I looked behind me, to the fresh traces in the snow. Only the small prints of Cookie and my larger tracks were visible.
‘Oh, Naomi...’
‘I hear you.’
‘Yes of course, otherwise you wouldn’t answer.’
An icy wind seemed to grasp my neck. ‘Angel, please.’
That laugh again. High and hysterical. ‘Those drugs don’t work?’
‘No. Apparently not.’
Cookie came back and laid the stick down next to me. He sat down and barked excitedly at something I couldn’t see.
‘Cookie can see me.’
‘Yes. Maybe.’ I sighed, and threw the stick again. This time as far as I could. The dog ran up to me and in his enthusiasm completely forgot his stick. I picked it up and walked slowly behind him.
‘Why are you really here, Angel? Why are you following me?’
I knew her answer already.
‘As long as you continue to deny everything, you need me. Why did you make those lies up? Doctor Roger. Detective Miller. It is screwing you up, it eats into you, and so you can’t let it go. Even though you act as if nothing has happened.’
I grunted, annoyed. Apparently Cookie thought that I blamed him, because he ran to me enthusiastically, and then ran again wagging his tail, around the place where Angel stood.
‘You know why. If I had mentioned his name to Miller, I could not have made him pay. They would have let him go, I know for sure. People like that, they always let them go. I couldn’t allow that. Certainly not after what he did to you.’
‘You feel guilty about my death.’
‘Yes.’
‘Forgive yourself.’
‘I’m scared, Angel. What if they find out?’
‘Do you really think they know it was you? The poor traumatised student... No one will suspect you. What you did was poetic, an ode to me. That’s why I am here, right?’
‘I still have something to finish,’ I said softly. ‘It’s not over yet. Not before...’
‘Yes, I know,’ she interrupted me.
I sniffed the icy air and couldn’t suppress a laugh when an old Lady passed me and looked through me as if she hadn’t seen me.
‘She thinks I’m talking to myself,’ I laughed a little harder. ‘Roger thinks it’s post-traumatic stress. Do you know that people see weird things? Sometimes fiction and reality are intertwined.’ I looked at her for a long moment.
‘What does that matter, Naomi? It’s about you.’
I laughed, aloud this time. ‘It’s about me!’
‘You’re talking to me because you can’t tell anyone else.’
‘I had no choice. And he deserved it.’
‘You are lying to yourself.’
‘Stop it, Angel. You are here now because of that stupid new therapy. That damn hypnotherapy. I am going to cancel this alternative fucking therapy immediately.’
‘This is just between us.’
‘Of course, Angel. When Roger finds out, I’m sure I will be locked up in the clinic they were working with. They will give me lots of drugs, so that I spend the rest of my life as a Zombie.’
‘But it felt good, didn’t it, Naomi?’
‘It can hardly be good though can it?’ I smiled to myself when I visualised how I threw the Molotov cocktails three weeks ago and set that huge ship alight. How I hid behind the containers and emotionless watched how people were burning and jumping overboard. I waited until I recognized Jack. Waiting until he crawled ashore. I had kept a special bottle for him. I waited for him in black, like a ninja. Invisible in the dark. He screamed when the bottle hit him, but I enjoyed every moment when he lit up the night sky like a torch.
‘You wonder if you’re sick or not, Naomi?’
‘Not sick. Emotionless. They were asleep when I set the fire. I’m just as bad as Jack.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Naomi.’
‘Of course it does. I enjoyed it.’
‘That’s understandable.’
I nodded. ‘It almost felt... it felt so good.’
‘The game isn’t over yet,’ whispered Angel. ‘As long as Joy and Jen are still alive...’
I chuckled at the idea of what I would do to them. ‘Everything in its time, Angel, and that time is set.’ I pulled the plane ticket out of my jacket and stroked, almost lovingly the destination and flight dates.
‘You are going back?’
Angel knew the answer so I didn’t reply. Cookie sat down in the snow and barked at me. I knew then that it was a sign that he had enough. So I turned around and retraced our tracks in the snow.
‘I’m scared, though, Angel. Sometimes, I don’t know what is real and what is not. Sometimes, sometimes I even think that you have never been there. That I just invented you. That I have fabricated everything we have been through together. I think it’s happening more often. I can sometimes feel like I’ve been all alone, not imprisoned. And I can no longer understand how I survived.’
‘Sharon…’ whispered Angel.
Goose bumps came up all over my body when I heard that name, which I thought was buried. My real memories came back again.
‘Yes, Sharon,’ I repeated. ‘Sharon...’
‘It’s the activation word for your hypnosis. Do you remember? He just has to say that name and you are under his control.’
With a shock I understood. My heart started to thump and I saw everything happening again, like watching a bad movie.
‘Shit, I understand it now. He was it... he was it all the time, Angel!’
Silence.
‘Angel?’
She wasn’t there anymore, just like the times before. Disappeared into thin air, from one moment to the other. I didn’t need her anymore, either. From this point I didn’t need anyone any more. Not now that I remembered it, so clear that I even knew the smallest details. Like the knife with the golden handle with which Sharon was cut open. How she laid on the bed. How I watched. Motionless. Apathetic, under the influence of hypnosis.
‘This is what we will do to you if you do not contribute to Net X. You must play the game, Naomi, otherwise this will happen to you, too.’ The hand that held me and put me deeper under hypnosis. And his voice, always repeating: "Angel" and then "Forget Sharon".
Shaking I pulled my mobile phone out of my pocket and pressed his number.
‘Naomi Quinns speaking. I would like to cancel the appointment.’
‘One moment,’ said the secretary.
A click. I was reconnected.
‘H-Hello Roger,’ I said before he could say anything.
‘You can’t just stop the therapy; you have no idea what the consequences can be.’
‘Yes, Roger. I know exactly what the consequences will be.’
‘Angel...’ he said tonelessly.
‘I know your dirty little secret,’ I said coolly. ‘I know everything. It won’t work anymore.’
‘Eh? What...? Naomi, let’s talk about it, please.’ It sounded like he had a lump in his throat.
‘No. I’m fed up with your fake memories. Damn, I’m here in a forest, talking to Angel and only now I see it. Angel, that’s what you called her, isn’t it Roger? Could you call her anything else? That was very obvious. Angel is the activation word for my hypnosis. You first used Sharon, which blotted out the murder. Angel never existed, or did she?’
‘Naomi... please listen... the hypnotherapy...’ gasped Roger.
‘No. I’m done listening. You give me memories and dreams that aren’t real. Like the first session I had with you, where I was raped? That wasn’t real, eh Roger? Why did you whisper it to me? To drive me mad? It was all fake, my nightmares were whispered by you, it was a fiction, to put me in the ultimate reality show, in your sick broadcasts. I remember everything again. You knew about the house and you knew Joy. That’s why I paid so little rent. I was your prey from the very start, wasn’t I, Roger?’
‘You can
’t...’
‘What? Did you really think I would forget it forever? That you could wipe that memory from my mind? It was you on the Net X. You killed Sharon. And you probably arranged that together with Jack for your sick customers. I already took part as a subject during your hypnosis sessions in the Netherlands, didn’t I? God, I was naïve. But I promise you one thing, Roger.’
‘Naomi...’
‘The Naomi you know is dead. Just like you will soon be...’
‘No. If...’
I didn’t let him finish, I held the phone away and blocked his number. An old man with a poodle passed me, he nodded and wished me a nice afternoon. In a friendly way I greeted him back. It had stopped snowing and in the distance I saw the busy road I had to cross to get to the residential area.
‘Cookie?’
The dog responded immediately. He came and stood next to me and I put on his lead.
‘Good girl.’
While I waited for a chance to cross, I heard a voice calling behind me. I didn’t look around, but gripped my plane ticket tightly.
‘Sorry, Angel. I have to do this alone,’ I whispered and I crossed the road.