by Megan Mason
‘Can I help you?’ I asked sternly,
‘No’, he claimed.
‘What are you doing here this is a female ward only’
‘I live here’, he said smoothly.
‘What? Don’t be outrageous, this is a damn hospital!’
‘Hahahahaha.’
‘What’s so funny?’
‘Your face!’
‘What about it?’
‘I’m here to help you.’
‘How?’
‘I know your story, how you were raped and all that jazz.’
‘Shhhhh you don’t have to shout it!’
‘Why? Only you can hear me, I’m special you see.’
‘Pshhh, whatever.’
‘I’m being serious, I’m special and I can help you. Why hurt yourself when you can hurt him?’ His voice was monotone and his face straight. ‘You can get revenge, I can help you. My name is Danny by the way.’
‘I don’t think so Mr Danny,’ I was getting agitated now.
‘Why the long face?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’
‘C’mon you know you could use my help’
‘What do you want?’
‘Nothing, I just simply work on justification, I feed on it’
‘How do you know about the circumstances anyway?’
‘Because I read your mind.’ He claimed simply.
‘You’re being outrageous again’
‘It’s true.’
‘No… that’s impossible’
‘Not in my world’
‘Suppose you help me, then what?’
‘Then I go away.’
‘It doesn’t seem that simple’
‘Why ever not? You know you need me’
My head began to hurt and I squinted through the pain. He glared at me severely, awaiting a response. It seemed he was growing impatient, he’d been prompting me to agree. ‘No, I can’t do them things.’ I couldn’t help but wonder how he knew my story, he suddenly reminded me of the pursuer himself, telling me he had ‘sources’ and that he used ‘reverse psychology’. I felt sick. Nothing would ever take away that memory or account for his actions. Nothing would ever ease my torture.
‘Sure you can, if you hurt yourself, you can hurt anyone else. Hurting yourself takes more courage than getting revenge.’
‘What do you have in mind?’
‘A special plan, just for you.’ He smiled emphatically. It was warming yet fiercely cold at the same time. It was as if this man were excited by torment and infliction of pain.
‘You best get out of here before the nurses see you’ I said glancing over at the woman in blue scrubs who’d just entered the room. Worrying that someone would see us and that Danny was manipulating me, I danced around the idea. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to get revenge. I had been very wrong about Harry from the start. The things he did to me had been dreadful and the effects would be long lasting.‘Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. They won’t say anything.’ He was right, the nurse glanced over seeming not to notice his presence as she stared straight through him as if he was invisible. She didn’t even seem to notice that his only garment was a plain pair of black shorts, his abdomen on full display. Not the best attire for entering a hospital, especially a female based ward. Why didn’t the nurse care?
I began to ponder the idea of seeking revenge on Harry. It seemed logical. After all, he had ruined my life. I had grown severely ill because of him, spending time at hospital, attempting to take my own life. Danny was right, it took me more courage to hurt myself than someone else. Hurting someone else would be easy, especially Harry. My temperature rose as I thought of him and his invasiveness. But how did Danny know these things? How did he have such knowledge about me? Who was he?
‘Who are you?’ I asked sternly.
‘Why I’m Danny, your guardian angel.’
‘Angels don’t exist!’
‘Fine, I’m someone who cares.’
‘How do you know these things about me?’
‘Simple, you told me.’
‘Now you sound like Harry!’ I bared my teeth angry at the thought.
‘Wow, that’s no way to introduce yourself to someone who wants to help you. Listen Kat, I want justice, I research people who stay silent. I find things out.’
‘And what reason do I have to trust you?’
‘You don’t. But sometimes in life you’ve just got to take a chance.’ Danny had been right again, sometimes in life I take chances and some of them have had the best outcomes imaginable. Other times… outcomes had not been so great. How though, could he research me? There was nothing alerting anyone at work. Nothing noticeable that even the nurse on shift that night hadn’t clocked the abuse. The only thing I could think of was if Danny had accessed my text messages somehow. Yet, why would he access mine? Surely he didn’t read the text messages for the whole of England? Nothing made sense. There was something about Danny though that made me curious. Something that screamed he was genuine. Something that made me feel connected to him, as if he’d known me all my life. As if, he was almost my spirit guide. Of course though, that would be outrageous and unbelievable. There was no such thing.
‘I’ll do it’, I said weakly. My heart raced as I agreed to this, as if my body regretted the decision as soon as it was made.
‘Good, I’ll see you later.’ Danny stood and walked out the room. No one seemed to notice him, let alone say a word to him, it had been a bizarre conversation and a strange circumstance.
It had taken a week for the crisis team to make their way around to me. It was a man and a woman who had come to assess me. The man was tall and slim wearing a white shirt, black trousers, a black tie and his blue lanyard with the abbreviation ‘NHS’ printed in white all over it. He must’ve been in his fifties as his hair was grey yet his face did not hold many wrinkles. The woman wore the same lanyard with a grey skirt and a white blouse to compliment. She didn’t look much older than me as her pale face was smooth and her long brown hair tied up in a bun neatly. She wore black ballet shoes with tights. It had been cold that day apparently, which wasn’t surprising considering it was now the middle of November. I just wondered how long I’d been out for.
‘Hello Katrina, how are you feeling’, opened the man.
‘I’m fine’, I replied.
‘I see, well I’m Doctor Jenkins and my colleague here is Davina, a mental health nurse.’
‘Okay’
‘We believe you’ve been suffering from some suicidal impulses recently’ he said wholeheartedly with a concerned expression.
‘What is this? An intervention?’, I felt uncomfortable and unreal with their expression. It made me feel fake.
‘No, we are here to try to help you, can you tell us how often you have these thoughts?’
‘Often, I hate my life, it’s impossible to feel normal!’ I exclaimed.
‘Sorry to hear that Katrina, how long has this been going on for?’
‘I don’t know’, the conversation was making me restless.
‘Okay, and do you know what’s caused it?’
‘No.’ I lied. I didn’t want to say the words.
‘Have you been hearing any voices in your head?’ the nurse queried.
‘No, do you think I’m crazy?’
‘Not at all Katrina, we just believe you could use some support to help you feel a bit more normal. Do you see things?’
‘Not at all.’ I began fidgeting, feeling rather uncomfortable. Without an escape, I blanked out for most of the conversation responding solemnly as required.
‘Okay, well we believe some medication will be vital for this moment in time and a referral for counselling. Also, we would like so assign you a CPN to monitor your health weekly.’
‘I don’t believe that’s necessary doctor. I’m fine, I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Okay, perhaps you’re not ready to talk, but the medication is important, will you agree to take that?’
. I thought about medication. It seemed wrong to take something, yet perhaps I wouldn’t feel so dreadful and have flashbacks.
‘Okay’ I mumbled.
‘Great, we are going to prescribe you fifty milligrams of sertraline to start off with. That should help you feel more normal for most of the days. However, you may feel slightly worse during the first few weeks which we believe would be necessary to monitor you whilst you adapt to them. How about the CPN?’
‘I don’t think that’s necessary doctor, I’ll be fine at home’, I was growing agitated now.
‘Considering your recent history, we want to be safe and ensure you adapt well enough for discharge.Also, the community psychiatric nurse (CPN) can be really helpful to talk to about things.’ Jenkins smiled politely. He obviously didn’t want to cause me more agitation, yet I suddenly felt overcrowded and undermined. I had no choice but to agree. They had already decided on the precautions to take therefore, I would be required to stay longer in hospital. ‘Fine.’ I muttered silently.
‘Great, we will begin the process immediately.’ The doctor and the nurse thanked me for my time and paced themselves out of the door to the room. I lay back on the bed and began to tire easily. I thought of the events today, what Danny had said, the plan to hurt Harry, what had Danny meant by this? I wasn’t sure how to go about it, I didn’t want to get into trouble, yet what would Harry do?
***
The black creatures crawling on the ceiling. Their fangs appeared as they snarled and their faces were raw flesh red, chopped pieces hanging on for dear life. Their legs backed and their scaled tails whipped nearly catching me as I screeched and howled for help from the bed in the hospital. My brain swam as I reached for the water to launch. The tail of one of the creatures whipped again knocking the jug to the floor.
‘Katrina… Katrina!’ The nurse ushered me awake.
‘Huh?’
‘You were screaming in your sleep, is everything okay??!’ The nurse looked concerned.
‘Fine! Sorry… nightmare.’ I said a little too fiercely.
‘I’m sorry, do you want to talk about it?’
‘No, not at all. I never want to speak a word of it.’
‘Well if you ever do decide otherwise, we’re always here.’ She claimed soothingly.
The following day I began recovery. The physiotherapists helped me stand and walk with a zimmer frame that they had brought. They instructed me on how to balance my weight properly and how to move one foot in front of the other. It seemed strange that the body could forget how to walk, yet at least once I could mobilize again they could stop the fragmin injections which were given to prevent blood clots and improve circulation. I took my time to walk from the bed space to the toilet just outside the room, but I did it. I walked with assistance. I was so happy to finally get out of the bed and wash properly. I took my time to shower and dry and finally I shifted myself back to my bed space where Danny had waited and began spiraling the plan.
‘We take him down.’ He said. ‘We stalk him, and we kill him.’
‘Kill?! Who said anything about killing, this isn’t what I agreed to’ I panicked.
‘It’s what we must do, this man will continue to rape people whether he is in prison or not, he’ll continue to ruin their lives.’
‘I suppose, but isn’t there another way to make him stop?’
‘I’m afraid not Kat. This is a rapist. He must die and I know you agree as I am your mind.’ He said emphatically.
‘Don’t talk stupid. Anyway, I don’t agree with killing’
‘Really, so you don’t believe capital punishment should be brought back for paedophiles and kidnappers and child murderers?’
‘Well…’ I hesitated, Danny was right, I did believe this. However, it seemed extreme. Killing Harry was on another level and I didn’t feel I had it in me to kill him.
‘C’mon Kat, you know it’s the right thing to do.’
‘Maybe, but us? We’re not the ones who should be the culprit.’
‘Who else is going to do it Kat?’ Danny teased
‘No one…’
‘Exactemente!’ Suddenly, things didn’t feel right. I gulped my sertraline. ‘Well then, do we have a deal?’
‘How would we do it exactly?’
‘That is something we are to discuss my dear, I’m glad you’re finally starting to have sense!’
‘Hmmm…’ I mumbled worriedly. Danny was right though, no one would kill Harry and he deserved to die. A man who rapes shouldn’t be allowed to roam freely again. This man was ruining people’s lives, stealing their innocence, burning their minds, destroying their nervous system. This man would do it repeatedly. This man was a man that was capable of anything. I felt my palms begin to sweat. My heart raced. I would become the pursuer. But who else would do it? This man did not belong in our society. This is a man that stole the last piece of my quality of life. Game on.
With that, Danny jumped up pouncing his way out of the door happily. ‘Remember Kat, I am your angel of justice’ he emphasized before leaping out of view.
As the weeks past, I felt myself become more enthusiastic. I was no longer walking with a zimmer frame but independently and a lot better than before as I used to walk with a flick of my feet, but now I walked with just one foot in front of the other straight and assertive. Danny had visited once a week to discuss the plan. My Mum visited daily, bringing food in for me and clothing. I suddenly began to feel thrilled to have become part of a plan to serve justice. Life was about to get better and I was about to be discharged from hospital. Just in time to get to Harry before he got to anyone else, providing he hadn’t already. I wanted to ensure that I was the last and will always be the last. I was to research his details online and find out where he lived. I was to stalk him and track his traces to confront him. I would become a heroine of women. Fighting for justice. For freedom. For life.
Rogue
Changing faces
Alert and surviving
Crossed out names
Culprit arriving
Blaming stakes
Furnaced bliss
Creating drama
For the justice amiss
Battled cries
Dreadful news
Soulless stars
Her new muse
It all began as I clicked on the laptop. Being home from hospital had given me this new found freedom. Having Danny had been a big help, a confidence boost. Someone to rely on. He helped me research Harry’s news. Track him down and collect vital information. We found an address, a landline number and the mobile number which I’d already obtained which confirmed it was truly him. The text messages were becoming less frequent at least, however, he would get what’s coming. He’d asked if I’d been okay and why I didn’t turn up for work. It was none of his business I thought. Avenues of my life had led me to this and it was time that justice was served up on a cold dish. I couldn’t take it anymore. After everything that has happened since I was a child, after being objectified by most of the men in my life and treated like a rag doll, I simply could no longer contain myself. The deed must be done. They must pay. No service comes free, therefore mine will have an expensive cost. I will charge a huge fee and they will pay whether they embrace it or not. A punishment for taking advantage. For stripping away my dignity, my pride, and my autonomy. For stealing my innocence and breaking my fragile heart. For leaving me helpless and dry. For murdering my sanity.
We’d discovered the address online on the website www.192.com. We found information about his wife, his children and his whereabouts in the small city of Liverpool. We discovered the schools they attended. It wouldn’t have worked to obtain the address from work as there was always someone in the offices and there was no way Danny would distract them long enough for me to find it. Researching online though had brought us to our destiny. It had been useful and worthwhile.
The plan was to track down his footings from home to the school and intercept him on the way or perhaps inte
rcept him on his route back from work. There were several routes that he could take, myself and Danny would have to discover his trackings. Essentially, stalk him. Watch him without his knowledge. It had been simple enough to find this information yet, the hardest parts had not yet been accomplished. The mission was red raw like a newly opened wound. Detective work for the greater good of humanity.
The sun had gleamed through the pane of the window, warming the home that day. Gratitude shone as I felt it present. I thought of the ignorance that Harry had portrayed, the smirk, the filthy words that he formed with his mouth and the ejaculation that scarred my anus. He had been rough, forceful and wrongly depicted in the eyes of others. I anticipated interception and the plan that was at hand to kill him. I began to grow blood-thirsty, no longer caring about being caught. Gaining new-found confidence in the plan, I began to research and watch murder-mystery films for inspiration. No innocent person would suffer as far as I was aware. I would track down all the perpetrators and end their life. Legal justice wasn’t justice enough. I felt the burning sensation in the back of my throat to see him whimper in pain, to watch him plead and fight for survival. This man was a wreck and I was becoming a messiah. A saviour of women, children, and those who may be vulnerable. I would be their Goddess, a person they could rely on and trust to serve for the greater good. They would worship me and see my compassion, my courtesy, and my empathy.
A little twist of a knife, watch him wretch and burn his brain. I could feel the thrilling sensation overwhelm me as I thought of him, watched him die a slow, painful death in my mind’s eye. Gasoline and matches. Knives and swatches. Hammers and screwdrivers. Blades of glory. Tools for the project at hand. I thought through all the possibilities that Danny had suggested and thought further afield to axes and razors. Decisions.
I had been lucky to survive my overdose. In a way, I was glad as now I was serving a purpose. Now I had something to live for. I would be a heroine. Someone to act as a role model. I would be mysteriously famous. Messages, notes left behind. Words of wisdom. Golden phrases. Poetically featured. My mind rushed with the thoughts I had.