“Mother, it’s good to see you are well,” I blurted out once I’d absorbed everything around me. I kicked myself for my lack of composure, I would play her frigid, inhospitable game better than her if that’s what she wanted. I squared my shoulders off, sat upright in my chair and gave a cold, impersonal look that concealed my soul from her. Breaking the ice was painful as my words seemed to blend slightly with the eerie music playing in the background.
I was just going to ask Georgia a question about my past when Francs rudely entered the room, completely unannounced. There was a man standing behind him, at least it looked like a man. He was wearing a Hugo Boss suit with a hemp bag covering his head! I quickly glanced over to mother who showed no emotion at this horrendous display, then back at ‘it.’ The poor guy must have be really ugly I thought to warrant a sack over his face.
He followed Francs and walked over to mother, grabbed her hand and kissed it through the sack. His wet lips left an imprint that dribbled through the coarse cloth, disgusting I thought to myself. He lurched rather suddenly into the chair next to her. The chair wobbled slightly from the awkward, unbalanced force it took him to find his place at the table.
The man under the bag could’ve be anyone, aside from the obvious question: why was this sack-head here in the first place? Who was it that was being paraded like an animal before slaughter? Georgia certainly knew how to get my attention and keep people firmly in their place. My dislike for her was mixed with awe. Here was a woman who truly knew how to manipulate people and her surroundings to suit her tastes and needs. I knew I could learn a lot from this cold-blooded beast.
“Now son,” mother snickered, “it’s rude to stare.”
‘Stare!’ How would anyone react to the apparition of a man with a bag for a head? “Excuse me Georgia, what is the meaning of this?” I asked as I pointed at the man sat next to her. “I didn’t come here for a show and speaking about why I came here, where is Demetrius? You owe me some explanations,” I said in a calm manner. I arched my eyebrow at her waiting for her response like I’d rehearsed in front of the mirror repetitively over the past few days.
“Oh Khedlar don’t be such a bore, there is plenty of time to satisfy your curiosity dear,” she said as she laughed in my face. She rang a silver bell and Francs came over to her side, ready to fulfil any wish she might have. “We will eat now Francs, thank you.” He nodded and left quietly to do her bidding.
I took a large gulp of the red wine that had been poured in my long-stemmed, crystal glass. It had been there, waiting for me, before I had even entered the room. The flavour was fruity and very sweet and it reminded me of a child’s non-alcoholic wine. It left me unsatisfied and I scanned the table to see if there was anything decent to drink.
Something strange started to happen to me. I was looking at the grubby sack, I kept on seeing my face projecting onto it in blinking flashes that came and went. Something was horribly wrong. Had I been drugged? These weird hallucinations couldn’t be real could they?
The room began to spin slowly with lighter and darker shapes, allowing shadowed faces to infest my mind. Nothing was making sense in this distorted, warped place. Something struck my head with bone-breaking force that knocked me out cold and darkness was my only friend.
I lay unconscious for what felt like an eternity, until I finally awoke, feeling groggy and disorientated. My head was pounding relentlessly with brutal pain, blurring my vision. Mother sat by my bedside, she looked warm and her skin had a healthy glow to it. The complete opposite of how I’d seen her last in the dining room. Even her eyes seemed unguarded, almost vulnerable.
I was surrounded by pure white once more in my life. The colour coated the walls, floor and ceiling, making the lines blur and causing my eyes to leak sticky fluid with the strain. Georgia was wearing a light, puffy white dress. How bizarre, it was like I’d disappeared down the rabbit-hole and landed up in a warped wonderland world that the Devil had sent to me straight from hell! I just lay there in shock and wondered briefly if I was dreaming. I asked myself what is going on here.
“Now dear, don’t worry. You tripped on the carpet and hit your head, you’ve been out for a while. I was just about to call for a doctor,” she said and smiled sweetly at me.
Carpet? What carpet, I thought I was sitting? She explained my situation too easily in my cynical opinion. My eyes trailed towards the door and the crack under it revealed a pool of darkness. What was real, I kept asking myself and who is waiting outside for me?
“What is happening to me?” I asked as my voice croaked in my parched throat as my words barely escaped my cracked lips.
“Nothing dear, now darling, is there anything I can get you? Are you hungry or thirsty?” she asked. She patted my shoulder to soothe me.
“Water, I need water,” I said, almost begging this demented demon to help me. “Who are you? Why am I here? What’s going on? What have you done to me?” I asked as my voice trailed off into nothingness. I felt like a child, lost and alone.
She smiled as if to confirm that I was insane and then laughed. “You are going to be okay dear,” she said and walked out of the room.
“Wait!” I shouted, as she opened the door into the darkness. I tried to move but my hands and legs had been cuffed to the bed. The cuffs were white too, coordinating them with this crazy room. I spiralled into my freaked out mind as the realization sunk in that I was being held captive and imprisoned in a way I’d never experienced before.
I battled against loosing odds, trying to free myself from this madness and after an hour of trying to get loose, I gave up and fell into a deep, unnatural sleep. I didn’t dream but I always knew in my gut that someone was watching me.
I woke up to find myself in the first bedroom Francs had shown me to when I’d arrived. This was all too surreal, was I dreaming again? I stumbled out of bed on jellied legs and staggered over to the door. I opened it a crack and peered out into the corridor only to find the sack-head man pacing up and down making funny noises. He sounded angry and was breathing heavily. He caught me off guard as the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my flesh grew goose bumps. A shiver ran down my spine even through my numbness. These people managed to have the power to affect me profoundly when everyone else seemed like shadows and puppets that weren’t real. The sack-man freaked me out the most, even more than mother or the constantly changing rooms.
I had to find another way out! I ran to the window as I rapidly formulated an escape plan. I would walk along the window ledge and find a way to climb down the side of the building. I pulled myself out onto the narrow ledge and peered down at the ground below me, it seemed a very long way down. My heart was racing and I felt like a trapped rat! I could hear the pounding of the sack-head man’s feet on the wooden floor as he ran after me. There was no way down without landing up six foot under, my only alternative was to get into another room and try to escape from there. I desperately threw myself into the next open window from the ledge and landed on the wooden floor with a hard thud!
Chapter 21
Light as Dark
I couldn’t believe my eyes, I had crash-landed into my childhood nursery which had made my worst nightmares a reality! I saw my cot, it was an antique cream crib with wooden frames. It had a mobile hanging above it with evil clown dolls tied on firmly by their throats. The clowns’ faces that leered at me were serious and sinister in their expressions. They were painted with colours that had dripped and melted over the years, making them look like they were distortions in a carnival hall of mirrors.
I recognized several of the soft toys and I picked one of them up to examine it closely. It was the rabbit I used to hold onto when Georgia would start screaming at me. I had called him ‘Dede’ because I was only a toddler at the time. His eyes were disproportionately oversized and they seemed almost sad to me. His neck and arms were ripped in places from where mother had snatched him out of my little hands. None of the toys here seemed to be ‘happy,’ or even remotely what you
would expect to find in a child’s bedroom.
There was a colourful Jack-in-the-box that had a rusted, broken spring and dead flowers that filled the space with a scent of decay. I noticed scratch marks on the frame of my cot where I had grabbed on so tightly I’d broken my tiny nails. Particles hung so densely in the stagnant air that I felt the dust settle on my skin as I moved about the room. Even the green velvet curtains tamed the sun’s rays and the filtered light was dim and watery. The window seemed to loom with pending gloom into this desolate, hollow place. A place that reeked of rot, damp and death to my soul.
Memories came flooding back in waves, overwhelming my locked off mind, forcing me to relive my childhood. Just from standing here in this derelict place all the memories played out, as my mind projected the shadows of the past into the current space. I think I’d hidden these dark thoughts to protect myself and to be able to function on a day-to-day basis. My skin crawled as if it was infested, clawing out the sensations of being systematically abused, over and over again in this room. One thing was clear, Georgia was just as evil as Ann. There didn’t seem to be any place in this family for ‘love,’ only hatred seemed to burn deep through our tainted veins.
The room was chillingly cold and deathly quiet, I could hear the sound of my metallic heart beating in the muted silence. I began to search for anything that could give me a clue as to what was happening to me. I was confused and lacked coordination, I fumbled about the dimly lit spaces to see if I could find a way out. My head felt like it was swimming and I could feel my brain sloshing against the sides of my skull. I had definitely been drugged. These sensations reminded me all too vividly about the times I had needles rammed into my flesh, filled with psychotropic medicines to sedate me. My brain felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool and my eyes burned feverishly and intensely. I hoped whatever Georgia had given me would soon wear off, I needed my wits about me, as I wasn’t sure if I would make it out of this house of horrors alive.
I stood for a moment in a state of shock, taking in the dark and dismal room. I wondered if this was real or just another illusion, a warped hallucination in a haven of these insane games. My body shook as the tremors pulled at raw nerve endings and my bones ached with a deadly chill. What had Georgia given me? Had she been trying to poison me or just send me off to the land of vulnerability? My trailing sight was starting to get clearer which was a slight relief as I heard my pulse pounding loudly in my ears.
I remembered bits and pieces of those painful nights when I was a baby. I wondered abstractly how my brain could summon these images back to life. I couldn’t stop laughing, the thought that this was all real was just ridiculous. My face hurt, I couldn’t stop, I was cackling hysterically at my life, at all the deaths and at my existence. This had to be a joke and I was the crazy man who had believed it all. So I guess the joke was on me!
My eyes streamed with emotionless tears when I recalled Ann grabbing and rocking me aggressively. I could feel pain in my body in the exact same places where she had viciously snatched me and tightly over-squeezed me in her arms. I also remembered the sound of my biological mother crying nearby as Ann and Aunt Morgan told Georgia that she was an ‘unfit mother,’ and that they were taking us away for our safety.
All of this confused me so much. How come I never remembered this before and how could I remember so much if I was just a baby? All of my memories were abstract and fragmented, nothing flowed, nothing made sense and it was all too dark and twisted to believe it was true.
Music started to play in my mind as the wispy voice of a woman’s singing blended in with the eerie tune. They twisted in waves that went from serene tranquillity to tormented screams. The taste of blood was so metallic it coated my mouth and drowned my soul in a lonely abyss. I couldn’t handle this, I felt suffocated to my core. I couldn’t breathe. My shirt collar tightened and seemed to draw me back to that time that place. The abstract images started to take their true form in my visual mind as the sounds smoothly blended in seamlessly with them.
Who were these people? Was this my past? Could my biological mother have been just as abusive as Ann? I had to sit down as my legs were about to give way. I found the darkest corner of the room and my eyes shuttered open and closed for moments at a time. I was overloaded with things I didn’t understand, feelings I didn’t want to own. The trauma of my past had created damage that was widening the cracks in my fractured mind. I sat rocking back and forth muttering, “It’s not true, it’s not real,” trying to convince myself that it was just my mind playing tricks on me again.
My thoughts were interrupted as the concealed door creaked ominously open to reveal the sack-head man.
“What are you doing in here?” he mumbled through the thick sack.
“What?” I asked him, trying to buy time. If I could keep him distracted I could get out of this room and hopefully find a way to escape the house.
“You heard!” he snarled at me.
I could tell he was really pissed off at me. What had I ever done to offend him? I wasn’t the one who had made him wear the bag over his head. I decided to fight his aggression with stubbornness. “What do you mean me? What are you doing in here? This was my room when I was a baby. Get out!” I shouted, dismissing him and his existence.
“You shouldn’t be in here, it’s forbidden,” he said sulkily. He took one hesitant step back after I had yelled at him.
“Nothing is forbidden to me, I’m her son and you’re just a freak who isn’t allowed to show his deformed face. Who do you think you are anyway?” I asked him, taunting him, almost daring him to grow a backbone and defend himself.
He began to walk away, then turned to face me. “You have no idea who I am do you? No idea at all, mother loves me she never would have let me go! You’re the freak, not me!” he shouted.
I could feel the pain in his voice and the emotions pouring out of his unseen face. For the first time in years I felt like I wanted to cry. He was my other brother. I felt like I had been hit by a ten ton weight and I struggled to catch my breath. I slumped down on the rocking chair as I raised my head up to him. “Brother?”
He just stood there, no reaction, no words. I saw his body tense up and his hands clench. He turned silently and stalked out of the room.
I was so shocked that I didn’t realise he’d locked the door behind him. Was that really my brother? Is he deformed just like Demetrius had said? What was the deal with the sack? My stomach was spinning and I thought I was going to throw up as sour, acidic bile burned my throat. I gulped several times to swallow it down and focused on controlling my breathing. I was not going to have a break down, I would not let this house defeat me, and I was in control.
At that point something broke inside of me. I knew then and there that I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. The sack man was my brother and no matter what disturbing truth lay beneath his veil, he was blood. My anger disintegrated into the abyss along with my past, emotions and reality. I knew the only reason I came to this house was for answers not for a family but my chained heart was still relentless in the want and the need to belong, to have a place in this world. If I fled now I was sure to go completely insane, never knowing who I am or how my life had led to such a warped existence.
What was the point in escaping, all I would achieve would be to run from myself and my messed up life. If I died here it would be better than living this life that was filled with so many secret boxes. I had to know the truth even if it killed me. Living this insane lie was destroying my mind and I burned with not knowing who I really was and if I had another brother. Could that warped cartoon of a man have been telling the truth? All I knew was I needed to see Georgia, she was the one pulling the strings in her dramatic puppet theatre. All I could do was dance to her tune until I had gotten what I’d come for, some overdue answers.
I banged on the door feeling fed up with all of it, I just wanted to get out of this room. I felt depleted and frustrated by this circus I had to endure. These people were
worse than the patients in the white hell. At least they had an excuse for their eccentricities, they were certifiably insane! Francs the arrogant butler unlocked the door.
“Master Slater?” he enquired in a state of disbelief, “what are you doing in this room?” A strange expression then took over his face as if he found the situation of me being locked in a room funny.
“Don’t ask. Just let me out of here Francs,” I squawked at the butler, who just looked at me, incredulously. I felt like I was definitely losing it.
“As you wish Master Slater,” he said as he moved out the way to accommodate me.
“Where is my mother right now, Francs?” I asked this bowlegged servant. He raised one eyebrow.
“She is in her dormitory, Master Slater. Your mother is not well. She rests in bed most of the day and only really gets up to eat,” he said. His expression seemed saddened as if his mind was drifting to her. I could tell he had her best interests at heart and truly cared about her.
“Right, and would you say my mother is caring, or cold-hearted, Francs?” He almost fell back at the sound of my blunt question.
“Your mother,” he began, and then paused to clear his throat, “she is the most loving, amazing, beau … .ermm…,” he stuttered to a halt and looked ashamed as if he had said too much.
“Thank you, Francs that will be all,” I said in a dismissive tone of voice. It was my turn to feel amused by his discomfort and awkwardness.
“Master Slater,” he nodded formally as he left. His face was flushed red in embarrassment.
I made my way through all the dim hallways, taking in the real dark beauty of this mansion. There were hand carved wooden gargoyles above the halls’ fireplaces with solid, black stone floors, it was so tragically mesmerising.
There were moments when my mind began to wonder about the butler. He seemed to me a few years older than my biological mother and obviously had a great loyalty and affection for her. I wondered why his cheeks had gone red when I asked him about her, was he blushing? The dynamics of the people that inhabited this tainted house were complex and obviously held several layers of secrets well hidden.
Psycho-Analysis: The Beginning Page 19