Under My Skin

by James Dawson

  Jennie, tiny little Jennie, reached forward and grasped Sally’s knee with a surprisingly strong fingers. ‘I will do anything you need. You know that.’

  ‘Thank you. No more questions?’

  ‘I can’t promise that, but I’ll do what you tell me to do. How about that?’

  ‘Deal.’ Sally felt better than she had in weeks. Jennie had taken on some of her burden. ‘I need to get her removed. It’s the only way I can think to stop this, but the last time I tried it she said she’d hurt me . . . or worse.’

  ‘So what can I do?’

  ‘I need you to get me to the clinic in the city. If I go there alone, she’ll take over. I need you to be with me the whole time. You’ll need to chain me to the chair. And . . . and somehow you’ll need to convince them that whatever I say, however many times I tell them to stop, to carry on. She’ll do anything to save herself.’

  Jennie’s mouth turned down at the edges. ‘Will that work?’

  ‘I don’t know, but we have to try – you promised. The other alternative . . .’ Sally really hoped it wouldn’t come to this, ‘. . . is that you get some acid from school and we do it ourselves.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’m serious.’

  ‘Oh my God, no! I can’t do that! You’d be in agony!’

  ‘So we try the first option?’

  ‘Sally, I dunno.’ She chewed a bit of skin on the side of her fingernail. ‘Wouldn’t Stan be better for this job? I mean, he’s twice my size for one thing. He can put up more of a fight or . . . sit on you or something.’

  Sally knew she was right. ‘I know, but things are weird with me and Stan at the moment. I didn’t know if he’d do it.’

  ‘He would. You know he would. He’d do anything for you.’ Jennie flipped her hair over her head. Maybe the pink and purple strips in her hair did sometimes betray how wise she truly was.

  Sally shrugged as best as she could with her arms behind her back. ‘I’m not gonna lie. This might not be safe. If I turn, I don’t know what she’ll do . . . she’s gonna be so mad. The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I’ve completely run out of ideas.’

  ‘Do you think she’d try something in public?’

  ‘I honestly don’t know. She’s capable of anything. God, that sounds like a line off the TV.’

  Jennie smiled a wry smile. ‘How do you want to do it?’

  ‘In my coat pocket there’s my dad’s credit card. I know the PIN. If anyone asks, I’m Mrs G Feather, child bride.’

  ‘OK, where’s the clinic?’

  ‘The address is on a piece of paper in my pocket.’

  Jennie fetched her jacket. ‘I’ll give them a ring and make an appointment.’

  ‘You’ll do it?’

  She nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. If it’s what you need.’

  A fat tear rolled down Sally’s cheek. She’d never felt so loved.

  Jennie showered and dressed before giving the clinic a call as soon as they opened at nine. Sally heard her talking with them on the landing although couldn’t make out every word. When she came back in the bedroom, Sally could tell it wasn’t good news. ‘They’re totally booked up today,’ she reported. ‘I tried . . . I begged, I said it was an emergency. The receptionist told me there’s no such thing as a tattoo emergency!’

  Sally rolled her eyes. ‘I beg to differ.’

  ‘But they can see you first thing tomorrow. You know it’ll take lots of sessions though, right?’

  ‘I know.’ Sally nodded. ‘I’m just hoping that as she fades, so does her power.’

  ‘What do we do now?’

  ‘I’ll need to stay here.’

  ‘All night?’

  Sally nodded. She wasn’t thrilled about the situation, but there was no other way. ‘Maybe we can cuff me to a bed tonight? If I’m free, she’ll run – I know she will.’

  Jennie kneeled next to her. ‘You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?’

  ‘Without wanting to sound histrionic, I’m deadly serious.’

  Jennie thought about it for a second. ‘Well,’ she said brightly, ‘we have a whole night and day to get through. We’re gonna need snacks and my laptop. I’m gonna have to feed you like a baby!’

  ‘Thank you, Jen. This means everything to me.’

  ‘I’ll go get some supplies. Any requests?’

  ‘Just whatever you want.’

  Jennie hurried away to get provisions from the kitchen. Sally shuffled on her bottom, her buttocks already going numb. If it got really bad, she’d be able to kneel or sit on her side. This wasn’t too bad.

  ‘Bet ya think you’re pretty goddamn smart, donchya?’

  The voice made Sally jump. It was a low, guttural growl. With Jennie out of sight, Molly Sue was back, pacing angrily across her back.

  I sort of do, Sally told her.

  ‘Just try it, darlin’.’

  What are you gonna do? Pull my hands off?

  ‘Why not? It’ll do for a start. And just wait and see what imma gonna do to your little friend downstairs. I’ll make you watch while I pull her insides out.’

  What? You’ll do that with no hands? You can’t do anything, Molly Sue. Just give up now. It’s over.

  ‘Oh, the kitten finally got her claws. Pride, sugar . . . it comes right before a fall.’

  Sally said nothing, but knew that she and the thing inside of her had reached checkmate. There was only one move left, and it was hers to take.

  Chapter Thirty

  The day dragged on for ever. The walls of Jennie’s bedroom seemed to be shrinking in around Sally like a funhouse illusion. Sally just wanted it over. If Molly Sue had any more tricks up her sleeve, Sally wanted them where she could see them. There was some security in the fact that she’d told her parents she was coming here to help Jennie look after the house while her parents were in Seoul. She knew Molly Sue wouldn’t be so stupid as to kill Jennie here when she’d be the only suspect – unless she killed her and fled.

  Sally kicked that thought right out of her mind, hoping Molly Sue hadn’t considered it.

  Sally and Jennie passed the day watching Satanville and a couple of films that had the actors who played Dante and Zeke in. On a normal day that would be bliss, but each forty-five minute episode seemed to last for a month. Being fed by Jennie was somewhat humiliating, but Jennie seemed to quite enjoy playing Mummy and Baby so Sally didn’t complain.

  After they’d eaten dinner, the doorbell rang. It was starting to get dark behind the blinds so Sally guessed it was around seven. She frowned at Jennie. ‘Who’s that?’

  Jennie bit her lip and looked sheepish. ‘Look, don’t get cross, but I told Stan to come over.’

  ‘What? Jennie!’

  Her friend stood, hands on hips. ‘Oh, come on! If this Molly Sue character is real then we need all the help we can get! And Stan has been doing his press-ups or whatever and I clearly haven’t!’

  Sally sighed. She was right. This was bigger than her beef with Stan. ‘Whatever.’

  Jennie went to answer the door and returned with Stan a minute later. His square shoulders filled the doorframe of the bedroom. Initially, he looked blindsided, like he was trying to work out what he was seeing. He stared down at her, his face unreadable; was it pity? Was it confusion? Hate? All of those things? ‘What the eff is going on, you guys? Seriously. If this is a joke, I don’t get it . . .’

  Sally couldn’t say anything, she couldn’t even look him in the eye.

  ‘Come in,’ Jennie said, ushering him into the room and sat him stiffly on her bed. ‘We can explain everything.’

  ‘Can we?’ Sally muttered.

  ‘Sally, what’s happening? Please tell me. You’re scaring me.’ Stan’s blue eyes looked watery. It sounded like he was only just holding his voice steady.

  Sally began, ‘Stan, this is going to sound like an episode of Satanville, but please try to believe me. You know me . . . you know I don’t lie.’ Well, she certainly never used to. She told him the
same version she’d told Jennie. Stan listened without interruption, eyes on his lap, with Jennie next to him on the bed. ‘So, do you think I’m insane?’

  After a beat, Stan shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘Really?’ Sally half-laughed. ‘I wish I were so certain.’

  He came to her side. ‘May I?’ Sally nodded and he delicately lifted her vest, taking care not to pull it up too high. He ran a finger over her tattoo and she shivered at his touch. ‘In a way it explains everything. Things have been so different these last few weeks. I thought you’d changed, but I had no idea we were talking, like, possession. . .’

  Sally looked into his eyes, struggling for the right words. ‘I . . . I think she called to me somehow, and I walked into her trap. She used me because I was weak.’

  ‘You’re not weak,’ Stan said softly before turning to Jennie. ‘Jen, could you give us a second by ourselves? There some stuff I should have said ages ago.’

  Jennie concealed a knowing smile. ‘Sure, I’ll go put the kettle on. It’s dangerously close to an hour since my last cup of tea.’

  Once she’d left, an awkward, endless silence fell over the bedroom. Stan sat with his back up against the radiator next to her. ‘I thought there was so much I wanted to say,’ Stan started.

  ‘Do you believe me?’ Sally broke the ice that had descended on the room.

  ‘A hundred per cent. I don’t believe this is something you’d make up. You’re the rational one.’ He threw his hands wide. ‘Just because I’ve never seen a ghost or a demon or an alien doesn’t mean I’m stupid enough to think my eyes are the final word on the matter.’

  If Sally hadn’t been shackled to a radiator she’d have thrown her arms around him. As it was, she turned to him, eyes wide and earnest. ‘But tomorrow we can stop her. Will you help?’

  ‘Well, duh.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice wobbling. She should have trusted Stan, but then . . . ‘Stan? I have to ask . . . why did you tell Melody about me and Todd?’

  He winced. ‘God, Sal, I’m sorry. I was such a dick. I was just so angry. It was like this red mist fell over me or something. I couldn’t believe it . . . like, you and Todd . . .’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean? That I’m not good enough for Todd Brady?’

  ‘No! That he’s not good enough for you.’ Another dense silence followed. The air between them felt stodgy. ‘Honestly . . . I just wanted to hurt you because it hurt me. I know, it’s mean and petty and stupid. It was a . . . low blow. I knew Melody would finish it one way or another so I told her and kept my hands clean. I was a coward. I was jealous.’

  All those rumours at school about her and Stan, all the whispers in the common room that she’d brushed off for so long. Everything that Molly Sue had said. She’d been so blind. Perhaps wilfully so. Now she had to face it head on. ‘You were jealous? But, Stan, why?’

  ‘Because when I think about us growing up, everything is this shape-shifting shit of a confused mess. The only thing I see for definite in my future is you.’

  Perhaps she’d always known, but hadn’t believed anyone could want her in that way. This certainly complicated things and she didn’t have a clue what to say. ‘Stan . . .’

  ‘It’s true. You know how everyone always thinks we’re together? Well, I let them. I just assumed that we’d end up together. That one day we’d stop being friends and become something . . . more. Like, who doesn’t want to fall in love with their best friend, right? I thought you felt the same . . . and then I saw you with Todd.’ He spat the last word as if it had a bad taste.

  Sally couldn’t untangle words from the spaghetti in her head. She’d never heard Stan speak for this long without making a lame joke or pulling a goofy face. This version of Stan was something new. He was older somehow, wiser . . . This wasn’t the little boy who used to catch frogs with her down at the pond, and yet there was still that Stannish Stanness that was, well, Stan. ‘I . . . I thought I liked Todd, but . . .’

  ‘Now you don’t?’

  ‘I think I liked the idea of Todd more than Todd,’ Sally admitted. Stan’s bare arm was pressed against her bare arm. His skin on her skin. It was electric. ‘I wonder if I got hung up on him because it was safe. It was like fancying Dante or something, you know – nothing was ever gonna happen. As soon as it became real, I didn’t like it so much.’

  His relief was almost tangible. ‘It was so scary,’ Stan went on. ‘I never realised how much I took you for granted. I thought we’d always be together and then you started to change . . . your hair, your clothes. I thought we were losing you.’

  Sally sighed. ‘Everyone changes. You’ve changed too, Stan.’

  ‘I haven’t!’

  ‘You have.’ Sally smiled. ‘Look at you.’ Oh, she looked. There was a long, stodgy silence. And then it happened. She wasn’t sure if it was how close he was to her, or his scent, or how good he looked but she was suddenly kissing him.

  If he was surprised, he adapted quickly. He moved in closer, so close she could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He cupped her face with a bear paw hand, taking charge of the kiss. If this was his first kiss, and she thought it probably was, he had a knack for it. His lips were confident. There was a strength to him, but no eagerness. It was . . . well, good. She’d been nervous as hell with Todd, but with Stan, although it was weird because she was KISSING STAN, she could just relax. No need to think, only to do. She wasn’t worried about how good she was or what he thought of her, it was just Stan. And Stan was highly skilled at kissing.

  He pulled away, a broad smile on his face. ‘God, I have spent so long wondering what that would be like.’

  Sally smiled back. ‘And how was the real thing?’

  The smile grew even wider. ‘Better than I ever imagined.’

  Sally couldn’t stifle a smile. ‘Smooth! Who knew you could be romantic?’

  ‘Are you kidding? I’ve spent four years watching Dante and Zeke brood at Taryn.’

  She laughed for what felt like the first time in months. ‘Of course! I should have known!’

  There was a tap at the door and Jennie poked her head through. ‘I heard laughing so I thought it might be safe to come back in?’

  Stan sprung up like he’d be caught behind the bike shed, not that their school really had one. ‘Yeah, sure, come in.’

  ‘Did you guys talk it out? Are we all good?’

  Not really. God, that kiss had been something else but if anything, Stan was one more task in her inbox and she had no idea how she felt about it. Sally wasn’t sure what anything meant any more, and she was nowhere near good. ‘We’re fine,’ she lied. She and Stan could deal with the fallout from that kiss once the tattoo was lasered off her back.

  Stan Randall was still beaming. Apparently dealing with excess adrenalin, he paced the floor, wiping his palms on his thighs. ‘Have you eaten? I’m starving? I might get something to eat? Is that OK?’

  Jennie wore a sly smile. Sally suspected she’d been listening to every word through the door. ‘Work up an appetite?’ She grinned. ‘We already ate but there’s loads of provisions in the fridge. Go nuts.’

  Stan thanked her and trotted downstairs.

  ‘Did you hear everything?’ Sally asked once he was out of earshot.

  Jennie sat down next to her and folded her legs like a Buddha. ‘Pretty much. How gross does kissing sound on audio only? Slurpy!’ she giggled.

  ‘Oh, don’t! I don’t know what came over me!’

  ‘You started it? Wow. Was it good?’

  Sally couldn’t lie. ‘I never thought I’d say this, but it really was . . .’

  ‘Sally Feather, you have a look of faraway longing in your eyes!’

  ‘I do not!’ she said, although wondered if she might. She was probably in shock.

  There was a sudden crash from below, something smashing in the kitchen. Sally jumped, banging the back of her head on the radiator. ‘Ow! What was that?’

  Jennie scurried to t
he door and shouted down the stairs. ‘Stan, whatever you just dropped, clean it up!’ There was no reply. Jennie leaned over the rail on the landing. ‘Stan? What did you do?’ She turned back to Sally. ‘God, he better not have broken anything expensive. I’ll be right back.’ Jennie followed Stan downstairs.

  All Sally could do was wait, straining her ears to hear conversation, but there didn’t seem to be any. What was going on? Eventually she heard light footfalls climbing the stairs. She craned her neck around to see Jennie emerge back onto the landing. Her face was hovering somewhere between confusion and concern.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Sally.

  Jennie shrugged. ‘Stan’s gone.’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Sally was equally baffled. ‘What? Where?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Jennie crossed to her window and looked out at the street, trying to locate him. ‘The back door was wide open and there was a plate of chicken wings smashed all over the floor.’

  ‘Can you see him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘OK, that’s weird.’

  ‘I don’t get it. Why would he just wander off?’

  Why indeed, Sally thought. Molly Sue, what are you up to? She waited for a response. Nothing came. Maybe it was because Jennie was in the room. ‘Jen, will you give me a second alone with Molly Sue?’

  ‘Oh. Yeah. OK.’ Jennie, still looking a little sceptical, shuffled out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Molly Sue, have you done something to Stan?’ Again there was no response. ‘Cut it out, I know you can hear me, so tell me.’ Still nothing. With her mind, Sally reached out around her body and head, searching for the greasy black tendrils that were the real Molly Sue.

  And then she started to panic.

  She started at her feet and scanned the length of her body. She’d become accustomed to the strange sensation of Molly Sue’s presence but now it was nowhere to be found. No way . . . she couldn’t have . . .

  Oh, but she could. It had only taken fleeting eye contact between her and the old homeless man outside school . . .

  The kiss. Now that she replayed the moment in her head, she hadn’t initiated it. There had been a split second of darkness and that was all it had taken to spur her on. Molly Sue had lit the match and it had been enough to start a blaze between her and Stan.