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Torment

Page 3

by Leanne Wood


  A door slammed, just as it did when she was hidden away in the cubicle. This time it came from outside her car and she was propelled to the present. Tears lingered in her eyes. Her determination for payback returned. Samuel Easton would not get away with what he’d done.

  The image of people standing around her desk pointing fingers and laughing at her played on repeat in her mind. She needed to cast those thoughts aside and remain focused. As the runners disappeared over the hill all became quiet.

  She watched.

  She waited.

  Movement.

  Finally, there was movement. Samuel opened the front door. Bridget slunk down in the driver’s seat. She peered over the steering wheel. Nausea swirled in her gut. She stared as he threw his lunch bag over his shoulder and strolled to the familiar red, beaten-up Volkswagen that sat in his driveway. He’d purchased it years ago; it was his pride and joy. It appeared nothing much had changed for Samuel Easton, and the feelings she held towards him hadn’t changed either.

  Watching him made her sick to the stomach. He appeared so smug. If she were a man, she would have wiped that smile off his face years ago. Bridget’s anger grew as she watched him climb into his car. Her jaw tensed, she glared. Gripping the steering wheel she maintained her focus. Patience would be her virtue.

  Samuel’s car roared to life, backfired, released a puff of smoke and in no time he was speeding down the road and over the hill. So far everything was going to plan.

  Five minutes passed. Then five more. The front door opened. This time it was his wife. But something was wrong – she was running early. She never ran early. Normally, she wouldn’t leave until eight thirty. Watching her dash towards her car, Bridget realised she had another major issue – Samuel’s daughter was missing. Where the bloody hell was his daughter? Without everyone accounted for, her mission would be impossible.

  “Fuck!” she exclaimed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  Sitting still Bridget contemplated her next move. She watched as the car disappeared from sight then recalled Daniel’s words: “Your past may shape your future but your mind determines your actions.”

  Was she crazy to believe her strategy would deliver peace? She closed her eyes and wondered if she would be better off abandoning her plan. But if she did, wouldn’t she be giving in? Wouldn’t that mean she was nothing more than a failure? Time passed. Bridget remained put. Hearing a car approach she ducked her head. It was a silver Mitsubishi station wagon. It was Veronica, Samuel’s wife. Bridget silently cheered. Hope returned. Thoughts of abandoning her mission vanished. Her patience returned as Veronica leapt from her car and dashed into the house. The waiting game recommenced.

  Minutes passed with no sound or movement. The front door to Samuel’s house was finally thrust open. Out emerged his wife Veronica and their daughter Sharon, voices raised. Sharon was complaining about her dad while her mother attempted to quell her grievances by justifying her husband’s actions.

  “He is a busy man, like your father says… us women will never understand the pressure a man endures. It is our duty as the females in the family to look after him. He needs his space. It’s not too much for him to expect the house to be tidy and for his meals to be served on time. You know what time he leaves for work – every day is the same time. I do not understand why you would interrupt his routine by using the bathroom when you know it is going to annoy him.”

  “Annoy him? What about me?” Sharon cried.

  “You… you should learn to wait, just as I wait. You’ll see, one day young lady you will be married and you will understand the importance of keeping your husband happy.”

  “Married,” she huffed. “If this is what it’s like when you get married then I am never going to marry. Oh no, I take that back. I’m going to become a lesbian, at least women know how to treat each other with respect.”

  “Sharon Easton, you watch your tongue,” Veronica snapped. “If your father heard you say that you wouldn’t have a tongue left in your head! Not another word, I will not listen to another word!”

  Both car doors slammed. The loud bang of metal against metal with only a thin strip of rubber seal between plus the revving of the car engine illustrated the frustration of the Easton women. Bridget continued to hear raised voices as Veronica reversed out of the driveway. She couldn’t help but smile. It appeared she was not the only one with grievances towards Samuel Easton. She wondered how his daughter would react to her plan.

  The time for action was fast approaching. Bridget reached over towards the passenger seat as if retrieving something as Veronica reversed back within meters from her car. Her heart thumped so fast she felt as though it would burst. She swallowed hard. Veronica’s car stood next to Bridget before she placed it into drive and took off down the road.

  The sound of raised voices and the car soon faded into stillness. Bridget breathed a sigh of relief. Sitting back up, she scanned the street. All was silent but she waited. Waited for enough time to pass so it would reduce the chance of being caught. Normally they wouldn’t return until the afternoon, but there was always a small chance something could have been forgotten. It was better to be safe than sorry.

  Ten minutes passed. With the house vacant and no activity within the street Bridget climbed out of her car. She scanned the street, ears pricked. Her heart pounded. She wiped her sweaty palms down her jacket. There was no turning back.

  Moving around to the passenger side she opened the back door and retrieved all she required. Weapon clenched in her right hand, another quick scan ensured the coast was still clear. She dashed across the road.

  Inside the gate and on the front lawn, she froze. Doubt crept in. She crouched struggling to maintain composure, and remained still until she could catch her breath. The thought of the arrogance she witnessed in Samuel’s eyes soon evaporated her hesitation and fear. His arrogance would soon be wiped from his face and be replaced with humiliation and embarrassment.

  Rising to her feet she took another moment to compose herself. She inhaled deeply and reminded herself who started it. She wouldn’t be there had they not treated her so badly, so cruelly. I’ll show everyone what you are.

  She sucked in the cool morning air, placed her white face mask over her nose and mouth, securing the elastic strap over her ears and behind her head. She walked swiftly from behind the front fence towards his house. A straight line. Her focus was on a brick line at the front wall of his house. She paused, turned to her right then circled the massive lawn – it had to be at least fifteen meters wide and possibly ten meters deep with only a driveway to the left of the block. She returned to the front fence and again walked directly towards his house. Speed and attention to detail were her friends; she needed to be smart.

  The next few minutes were spent focusing on her steps and dwelling over the pain Samuel had inflicted. His lawn was another pride and joy. His lush, well-manicured buffalo lawn would be her canvas. She continually scanned the street. There was no sign of life. Bridget was alone. She would soon be on her way. Her job would be complete. Before she knew it, she was striding the last path towards his house. The anticipation of her results made her smile. The outcome would begin to show in a matter of days.

  Dashing across the road she opened the rear door and threw in her tools. She slammed the door closed and jumped into the driver’s seat. Removing her mask, she flung it onto the back seat.

  “Woohoo!”

  It was a moment of great jubilation. Tears of overwhelming joy streamed down her face. What a rush! She was pumped. She was done. She felt invigorated. Alive.

  Driving home, she knew she just needed to wait. So she did. She carried on with her daily routine as she thought about her next move. She had another visit from Zack and she spoke with Daniel on the telephone – assured him she was fine.

  She waited patiently. Drive-by events occurred every morning. Nearly a week had passed before she began to spot glimpses of yellow. Yellow changed to brown. B
lades of grass began to wither and die. The affected area grew. Prominent lines and curves formed.

  Three weeks later her masterpiece appeared. It was a stroke of genius. Samuel Easton was a prick and his lawn announced his presence in bold, eight-meter high capitals.

  He was mortified.

  Bridget drank a toast to her successful mission.

  Revenge was sweet. The negative feelings associated with Samuel Easton would no longer evoke fear or anxiety. A sense of power returned. Samuel Easton was just the start. Her job was incomplete. It was her duty as a responsible citizen to report an act of vandalism. She made an anonymous report to the local newspaper. The good people in her neighbourhood deserved to know what was happening.

  The newspaper jumped on the story. Her masterpiece was photographed. A photo of Samuel Easton and his vandalised lawn ended up as front-page news. He was quoted: ‘I am outraged! To think someone would take delight in attacking another person, it’s disgusting.’ The newspaper publicised his address, which resulted in further humiliation and embarrassment. Traffic flow in his street increased tenfold. People stood out the front taking photos, laughing and pointing. Samuel was forced to submit an application for leave. He spent the few next weeks as a recluse, hidden away from prying eyes.

  The world would forever link Samuel Easton to the word ‘PRICK’. Social media went into meltdown:

  What’s another name for prick? Samuel Easton.

  What’s eight meters high and thirteen meters wide? Samuel Easton’s new name tag.

  Who should have gone to Spec Savers before using weed killer? Samuel Easton.

  Who’s a prick? You’re a prick! No I’m not – Samuel Easton is a prick.

  P.R.I.C.K what does it spell? Samuel Easton.

  It was like sitting back and watching a circus. Samuel had been made to look more than just a clown. Bridget wondered if his feelings of embarrassment and humiliation compared to the way he had made her feel. She had no regrets. Had his payback been sufficient?

  Oh, she was just getting started.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  B

  ridget knew what she wanted as she cast her eyes over Daniel. She wanted the good doctor. Her thoughts went well beyond talking. With Zack out of the picture there was no reason why she couldn’t pursue another man. Things that had never crossed her mind were surfacing. Suppressed thoughts and feelings. She felt like a wild animal released from its cage. Like a lioness on the prowl. Revitalised, energised. Ready to strike. She was liberated. Daniel was single. She was single. He said he enjoyed her company. She knew she enjoyed his. Why couldn’t they take their relationship to another level? But what if she told him how she felt and her feelings were not reciprocated? Voicing how she felt could drive a wedge into their relationship. Opening her mouth prematurely could destroy what they shared. Just because he said he enjoyed her company didn’t mean he wanted more. Friends enjoyed the company of friends. Sitting in the familiar corner of his room, she closed her eyes and contemplated her next move. Why wouldn’t you? Don’t pass up the opportunity. You only live once.

  “Bridget… are you okay?” Daniel asked.

  Her eyes sprung open. “Yes, I was just thinking about my feelings,” she said with a sniff.

  Staring across the room she locked onto his eyes. They were gorgeous, so kind and caring and his lips were so pink and soft looking. She wanted to taste his breath, wanted to feel his body next to hers, wanted to place her hands, her mouth all over his body. She crossed her legs, closed her eyes and bit her lip. She imagined. She released an elongated sigh. Tears welled in her eyes. She didn’t want to lose him. His rejection would be devastating. For now she would remain silent. She would talk about what she knew best.

  “Have you ever feared someone or something so much that the thought of them or it makes you physically ill? You have to force yourself not to think, but distraction is impossible,” she said. “Fear infiltrates your every move. Wrapped tightly around your body you begin to feel suffocated. You’re slowly dying as the fear consumes. Sucking away life. You remain a shell of your former self. Trapped within indestructible barriers. Barriers once created to protect now destroy as darkness overshadows your every move.” She clenched her hands as she spoke. “Despair invades, and finally you wake up one morning thinking, why me? Surely this isn’t the life I was expected to have. You wonder why bother. Then comes the hatred.”

  She leant forward in her seat, eyes locked to his. “Have you ever experienced hatred so much that it feels like it bubbles up from inside? Your mind wishes you could strike down those you despise. A vile putrid taste dances within your mouth. Your body pulsates, anger stirs and you walk around as if balancing on a hair trigger. One wrong move and things could explode,” she said, and he didn’t look away. “Issues twist into existence, feeding frustration and igniting anger. Your life spins out of control until finally it feels a bit like going down a long dark alley with no torch and no end of darkness in sight. We live in a world full of dangers, Daniel. Bullies, perpetrators of violent acts and killers exist; they mingle amongst us unnoticed. They strike and disappear into the night until they strike again. The odds are on their side. Unsuspecting victims are left with emotional and sometimes physical scars. How many of them are actually out there? How many will ever be caught and punished? There’s a monster in all of us, if given the chance to be born.”

  Daniel remained silent as she spoke. So many variations of the same he had heard – fear, anger, hate, sadness, thoughts of revenge. He wanted to wrap his arms around her, comfort her and take away her pain. Since their first meeting he had admired her, and his feelings had grown stronger over time. Now with Zack gone there was no reason he should hold his tongue. He was single. She was single. She’d said she enjoyed talking with him. Why not take their relationship to another level? But would he be overstepping the mark? She was his patient. What if she felt he had taken advantage of her? Voicing how he felt about her could destroy their relationship. But if he did it respectfully, so as not to offend or embarrass then surely she would understand, and they would remain friends. She had to know his primary concern was her welfare.

  “Bridget, I want to ask you a question.”

  He paused, and she looked up from the other side of the room. Her head tilted to the side and her brows furrowed.

  “What? You can ask me anything, Daniel.”

  “I have been thinking about you a lot lately. I don’t want you to take what I am about to say the wrong way,” he said and gave her a short smile. “You must know I care about you a great deal. I want what is in your best interests.”

  Bridget leant forward in her chair, staring directly into his eyes, her attention fully focussed on him.

  “Bridget…” he hesitated, unsure how to proceed.

  “Yes, Daniel?”

  “I want you to be honest with me.”

  “I am honest with you, Daniel.”

  Daniel rose from his chair and walked around to the front of his desk. Bridget’s gaze never strayed from him. He stopped and lent back against his desk, his eyes locked to hers.

  “Was it you?” he asked.

  “Sorry?”

  “Did you poison Samuel Easton’s lawn?”

  Bridget turned bright red, answering his questions before she spoke it.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  Daniel shook his head, kept his face composed as he watched her. She gulped nervously, but her eyes never left his. Finally, he smiled then clapped.

  “Bravo,” he chuckled. “Bravo, bravo, bravo.”

  Tears welled in Bridget’s eyes, and she swallowed hard. Her body twitched, almost as if she was going to leap into his arms. But that was wishful thinking, so he schooled a serious stare before he spoke again. “I congratulate you, but I must also warn you. Your acts of revenge may end in pain, and I worry you will be caught. Where will it end? What happens if they discover you were behind this?”

  A brief flas
h of pain appeared in her eyes before she shut it down. “If I do nothing they won’t pay.”

  “They will pay. We all pay for our actions. Tell me what happens if they recognise you?”

  “They won’t,” she said. “I wore a large coat, oversized combat boots. I bound my chest so I didn’t even look like a female. I wore shoulder pads and a face mask. I also have a balaclava just in case, and I know how I can distort my voice.”

  Daniel sat staring, amazed at the amount of thought she had put into her revenge but fearful her actions would be exposed. As her treating psychiatrist he could make suggestions and recommendations but he could not control her actions.

  “Please think long and hard before you do anything else,” he begged.

  Bridget nodded. “I will.”

  The timer buzzed; her therapy session had expired. Bridget rose from her chair and Daniel from the desk. They stood face to face.

  “Bridget, before you leave can I say one more thing?” He gave her a small smile when she nodded. “You walk around with clenched fists, you hold to your anger but at some stage you have to let go. You have to open your arms to what lies before you. You have to be grateful for what you have. It’s not about focusing on your suffering and loss, and it’s not about the have nots in life, it is about the haves. What you have now and what you have to look forward to. Please think about what you have in your life.”

  Bridget nodded but remained silent as she studied his face. His words were genuine. She felt so comfortable with him, so at ease. He didn’t make her feel lesser even though she knew he was highly educated and extremely intelligent. Zack was just over six feet tall, but his demeanour had left her feeling like he looked down on her, as if she was inferior. With Daniel, she could look him in the eyes – they were equally matched. It was almost as if they were made for each other.

 

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