“It’s fine. Really.”
Ronson nodded and made a note on his paperwork, which was the only thing standing between Jasper and his freedom.
“So.” He said, looking over his notes. “You have been with us for almost five years now. I’m told you have made great progress over these last eighteen months.”
Jasper nodded. “I feel good now, I think I have come a long way.”
“How old are you now Jasper?”
“Twenty-three.”
More notes were scribbled, and Ronson folded his hands on the desk and smiled. Jasper couldn’t help but look at the doctor’s fingers, how manicured and perfect his nails were. He looked down at his own chewed to the skin appendages and hid them out of sight on his knees.
“How do you feel now, about what happened before you came here?” Ronson asked.
Jasper felt a flicker of the bad stuff, the darkness that sometimes fizzed and bubbled in his stomach. For a split second, he saw himself launching over the desk and tearing Ronson’s tongue out. Instead, he smiled.
“Of course, I feel bad, sorry and ashamed.”
It was a lie. He actually didn’t know how he felt about it all, however, they were the words that Ronson would have wanted, and so they were the ones he gave.
“And what about the crows? How do you feel about them?”
A surge of emotions coursed through Jasper all at once. Rage, terror, paranoia. It took an incredible force of will for him to avoid glancing at the window, especially since that was what Ronson was watching for.
Fuck you Ronson.
“That’s something else I’m ashamed of. I... don’t want to talk about it.”
For all the deceit that he had planned, that was the first true thing that Jasper had said since the assessment began. Ronson was staring again. How he hated that stare. It had switched from kind and friendly during the introductory small talk, to one that was purely judgmental, and seemed to burn into Jaspers' very soul. He was certain that Ronson knew everything. Knew about the lies, knew about the plan to bluff his way to freedom.
Knew about the crows.
He coughed into his hand. “I would rather not bring it all up again.”
“Look, Jasper, I’m not against you here. But we need to talk about this. I need to assess that you do, in fact, have a firm grasp on reality. Until I can satisfy myself and the board of this hospital that you truly are ready to go back into society, then I won’t be able to agree to your release. Please, talk to me about the crows.”
Jasper hesitated, and couldn’t help flick his gaze to the window. He instantly regretted it, because Ronson saw it. He cleared his throat and looked the doctor in the eye.
“They don’t speak to me anymore if that’s what you want to know.”
“So I understand from my reports. How do you feel about that?”
Careful. He’s trying to catch you out here.
“Well… I know now that they never did. I know I can’t blame them for my actions.” He said with a shrug.
“You admit responsibility for what you did to your mother and brothers?”
Jasper paused, as a series of quick-fire images came to him, images forever burned into his memory.
Bloody kitchen tiles.
The knife clutched in his shaking hand.
His mother’s glassy, dolls eyes, horrified and staring into oblivion.
The crow at the window. Watching. Always watching.
He shuffled again and looked at his feet.
“I know what I did, and I know I have to live with it for the rest of my life.”
“Jasper, when the crows used to speak to you, what was it like? How did they sound?”
He paused to consider the question, desperate to look out of the window but afraid of what he might see if he did.
“It was always just one. A big one. At first, I didn’t think much of it. It started showing up in the garden. I didn’t realise at first, but every time I saw it, something bad happened. That first time, my dog Toby was run over in the street. I loved that dog. I remember going out there where he lay, broken and panting in the street, and as I was cradling his head, I looked up and saw the crow. It was just standing on the lawn watching me.”
“I see,” Ronson said, making more notes.
He pushed his glasses back up his face, and then looked at Jasper. He was now in full on professional mode. Gone were the friendly smiles and encouragement. He had a look in his eyes which said he was looking for information, and wouldn’t rest until he had everything he wanted.
“When did you see it as more than coincidence?” He asked, pen poised over paper.
“When they started to read my mind,” Jasper replied immediately, then hesitated, and offered a nervous smile. “I mean when I thought that’s what they were doing.”
He searched Ronson's face for any inkling of a reaction, but the doctor only looked back, waiting patiently as he always did. After all, what was time in a place like this? Jasper flicked his eyes to the window and the green gardens beyond, and when he saw that it was empty, he continued.
“I saw it again, that same bird a few weeks later on the day my dad had his heart attack. I know what you must be thinking. How can I know it was the same one?” He grinned, but it was a pained gesture which felt alien, and he reverted to his neutral frown.
“It’s kind of hard to explain. Somehow, I just knew it was the same bird. I knew it as a certainty. That’s when I first heard it in my head. I heard it telling me I was right, that it was the one that had been there when my dog was killed, and that if I ever told anyone, they would come for me.”
He paused again and began to rub his thumb and forefinger together.
“My father died in the hospital that night, although in a way that didn’t matter as much as the crow. Even though I couldn’t see it, I knew it was there, hovering in my head, listening to my thoughts, invading my privacy.”
“This certainly still seems to be stressful for you. Would you like to take a break? If you don’t feel ready for this we can postpone.”
“No, that’s alright. I don’t mind. It’s just not something I like to talk about, that’s all,”
“I just wanted to be certain. Please, continue. You are doing really, really well.” Ronson said, giving Jasper one of his best encouraging smiles.
“I’m unsure if I should. How do I know this isn’t a trick? What if you’re trying to get me to say something that means I’ll have to stay here?”
“Jasper, you should know by now that I want what’s best for you. Since you came here, I’ve done everything I can to help you.”
Jasper nodded. It was true, Ronson had always tried to help, and seemed to have a genuine interest in his progress. “And besides,” Ronson added, looking around the empty office, “it’s just us here. Talking like the friends. I hope, by now, we are. Please, continue.”
Jasper scratched at his hair, snatched a quick glance out of the window, and continued.
“Well, it went on like that for a few months. At first, I would see it every few weeks or so, and when I did, something bad would always happen.”
“What kind of things?”
“You know this.”
Ronson didn’t reply. He simply waited. Good old ever patient Ronson. With a sigh, Jasper continued to talk.
“Nothing too serious at first. Just minor stuff. I broke my leg. The kitchen somehow got set on fire, stuff like that. No matter what happened, it was always there, watching me from the garden. And even when I couldn’t see it, I could hear it in my head. Talking to me, taunting me, threatening me.”
“How did it feel? The voices inside your head?”
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” Jasper mumbled as he looked at the window, not a glance this time but a full on stare. He looked out into the gardens beyond, satisfied himself that all was normal, and then turned back to Ronson. “It’s like… you know when there’s a wasp in the house, and you can hear it buzzing, but it’s kinda quie
t?”
“I know what you mean.” Ronson said. “I grew up on a farm in Texas. It was a problem we had a lot.”
Jasper nodded. “That’s how it was. It was in there, just buzzing around in my head. It’s odd because I didn’t even have to speak. I could just think of something and it would know about it and answer me. It was around that time when I started to see it more often. Almost every other day, and pretty much straight away, things escalated.”
“What happened?”
“You know the answer to this… I don’t want to go over it again.”
“Talking about it is good. In fact, it’s a vital part of the healing process.”
“You promise me this isn’t a scam?” Jasper said, narrowing his eyes at Ronson.
“It’s nothing of the sort. Please, go on.”
Don’t do it, you know what they said if you told anyone. You know what happened last time.
He was afraid, but he was also tired of the secrets. He wanted to start living his life, a chance to just be normal and do normal things. He wasn’t sure the words would come out at first, but they did, and he was surprised by how smoothly they rolled off his tongue.
“I was sitting at the kitchen table, just looking out the window, and as always the crow was there. Standing on the grass, staring in at me, and as always, I could hear it in my head, buzzing and darting around and saying things. I… I threatened to tell people about it, and… it took flight and landed on the window ledge. It was standing on the other side of the glass, inches away and just… looking at me. And I don’t know if it was because it was so close, but I heard it as clear as you and I are talking now, telling me that if I told anyone about it, they would make me pay.”
Jasper was now staring into space, chewing at his fingertips as he recalled his story.
“I was angry, so I told it that it was just a bird, and I was going to tell my mother. It said it would be a mistake, and they would prove it, and with that, it took off and I didn’t see it for a week.”
“What happened after that?”
“You know what happened.” He snapped. “My mother was raped on her way home from work.”
The room fell silent. Ronson made more notes, and then looked at Jasper.
“You thought what happened to your mother was something to do with the crow?”
“I knew it was – or at least I thought I did. See I saw it again, later that night as my mother was taking her fifth shower since the police let her home. I was in my usual spot in the kitchen, wondering if it could be a coincidence, and I heard that buzzing in my head and knew it was out there.”
“You saw it?”
“No. It was dark, and all I could see through the glass was my own reflection. I just knew it was out there, watching me from the dark. It was in my head, telling me it had proved its point and if I wanted to stay safe, I needed to keep what I knew about them to myself, and from that day forth do whatever they told me.”
“And you agreed?”
“I did.” Jasper sighed. “By then, I was too afraid not to. Things got pretty bad, pretty fast from then on. I was convinced that if I didn’t actually see it, nothing bad could happen to anyone close to me, so I holed up in my room. Painted the windows with black paint so I couldn’t see out, and just sat there in the dark. My mother and brothers were worried, but I couldn’t tell any of them what had happened. I was too afraid.”
“How long did this go on for?”
“Oh, a few months. I couldn’t sleep, I barely ate. I just sat there in the dark, listening to that maddening buzz in my head as it told me things, things I had to do. I tried to be strong, Doc Ronson, I did, but they were like poison, and it didn’t take much for them to break me. I was isolated and scared, and in the end, I did what they told me to do.”
“Which brings us to the day when you killed your family.”
To hear it said out loud made Jasper's stomach roll, and he lowered his gaze, staring at his white hospital issue pants and pumps.
Apart from the persistent tapping of the rain on the glass, the room was silent.
“I... I wish I could take it back.” He said, his voice barely a whisper. “I was ill, and whatever I thought I could hear, seemed real enough to me at the time to make me do what I did.”
“Tell me about it Jasper. It will help if you get it out in the open.”
Jasper looked his doctor in the eye, searching for reassurance, and finding it.
“They… they told me my brothers were a part of it. That they knew all about the crows and what they did. They told me if I wanted things to go back to normal, I would have to kill them. By then, of course, my brain was pretty much fried. Of course, you already know that I have been here long enough to make that point obvious enough. As sick as it sounds now, the idea to kill my brothers seemed like the most reasonable idea in the world. Joe was seven, and Mark was fourteen. I…”
Jasper swallowed hard, struggling to hold back his emotions.
“I took the carving knife and I….” He trailed off and reverted back to rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as he jigged his leg up and down.
“I can see you’re getting upset, but we’re almost done,” Ronson said. “Can you go on?”
“I stabbed them.” Jasper blurted, losing the battle to keep his tears at bay. “I started and I just couldn’t stop. They were in my head, counting along as I did it. I stabbed Joe twenty-three times and Mark fifty-seven times. I… I have no excuse.”
“Jasper, Don’t blame yourself. You were ill, suffering from acute schizophrenia. It wasn’t your fault. I…”
“My mother was an accident.” He blurted, flicking his eyes once again to the window. “She came home early from work, and I was there, covered in blood in the kitchen with my brother's dead bodies on the floor. She started to scream. I begged her to stop, but then that damn bird was in my head, telling me to shut her up… and I did... I did.”
Jasper lowered his head, weeping openly. Ronson made more notes. When he had finished, he set his pen down and looked across the desk.
“I know it was hard for you to tell me that.”
“It’s the first time I have told it all to anyone,” Jasper said between great, ragged sobs.
“When you came here, I have to admit, we didn’t expect you to recover so fast.”
“Almost five years is hardly quick.” He shot back, wiping his eyes with his shirt sleeve.
“Compared to what could have been? Life in prison perhaps? I would consider this a good day, a day to celebrate you getting better.”
“Does this mean you are letting me out?” Jasper asked, filled with a sudden surge of hope.
Ronson hesitated, and the pleasant smile faded. “Here’s the thing Jasper. I know how bright you are. I also know that you have taken to covering the windows of your room with a sheet during the day.”
“It’s to block out the sun I...”
Ronson held up a hand, and Jasper stopped speaking.
“I also noticed that since we started our conversation, you have been looking out of the window pretty much all the time. I think you still believe that the crows are out there. I still believe that despite our best efforts, you still hear them, and with that in mind, I’m afraid I can only recommend that you stay here indefinitely until such a time when you are fit to return to society.”
Jasper took the information in, staring at Ronson as his lip trembled.
“You said I was progressing, you said I could go home…”
“No, I didn’t. I said it was looking promising, however this conversation has raised concerns enough so that I wouldn’t be comfortable with releasing you at this time.”
Ronson, you backstabbing motherfucker.
He glared at Ronson as the thought bounced around his head, and was surprised to see Ronson flinch.
“There’s no need for that Jasper. I’m trying to help.”
Jasper froze, the skin on his arms rippling with gooseflesh.
“I didn’
t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to,” Ronson said, staring at Jasper. He saw it then, the reason why Ronson always seemed so familiar.
He had the same stare as the crow.
“You’re one of them aren’t you?” Jasper whispered.
He gave Ronson time to deny it. To refute it. To call him ridiculous, none of which he did. Instead, he stared, his eyes dark and somehow terrifying.
“You’re sick Jasper. You need to stay here and let me help you.”
“No!” Jasper blurted, and looked to the window.
The garden was filled with crows. They were standing motionless, staring into the office and watching proceedings unfold. Jasper recoiled, and threw himself out of his chair onto the floor.
“Get them away from me!” He screamed as he pushed his way across the carpet into the corner. Ronson should, by rights be hurrying around the table to help, but he just sat there, a knowing smile on his lips.
He was enjoying it.
“Doc Ronson, please, shut the blinds, they’re out there.” Jasper shrieked, staring at the army of birds on the lawn.
Ronson also looked at the garden full of birds and shrugged. “They are just birds, Jasper. They can’t hurt you.”
“You are one of them, aren’t you doc?” Jasper cackled. He was hysterical and had pushed himself back against the bookcase by the locked office door.
“Call em' off! I promise I won’t ever tell anyone about them. Please!”
Ronson grinned and pressed the intercom on his desk. “Nurse, get someone in here with a sedative, Mr. Collins is having an episode!” Jasper noted that he spoke with mock panic over the intercom, which was replaced by the oozing, cool calm when it was just the two of them.
And the lawn full of crows, of course.
“What do you want from me?” Jasper sobbed as he tucked his knees up to his chin and hugged them.
Ronson stood and approached Jasper. He was holding a silver letter opener.
“Are you going to kill me?” Jasper whispered as the incessant buzzing began to drone around his head.
Ronson crouched and leaned close enough for Jasper to smell the expensive aftershave that he wore.
“No. You’re going to stab me.” He said, and then thrust the letter opener into his own arm. He yelled out in pain, and in unison, the crows as one let out a high-pitched squawk and took off in a flurry of beating wings. It was then that the orderlies burst into the room to see Jasper rocking and staring out of the window and Ronson on his back, holding his bleeding arm and moaning. No words were shared as Jasper was sedated, even so, he could hear Ronson clearly enough in his head along with the buzzing as he lost consciousness.
At The Edge of Night - 28 book horror box set - also contains a link to an additional FREE book Page 27