The Penn Friends Series Books 5-8: Penn Friends Boxset

by T H Paul

  Penny was through with the first bag of drugs before the weekend. She’d not been in college for three days, and Millie had been leaving messages for her. Penny was trying to get hold of Clive.

  “I’ll bring some around later,” he said, finally calling back after she’d left approaching a dozen voicemail messages. It was good to keep them desperate.

  She didn’t show up for work on Saturday. That was the first time she’d ever done that without calling ahead. Clive had come over late on Friday, Penny already desperate and sweating as he pulled up. He offered her just enough for a quick fix, to get her through the night, promising more if she did another job for him. This time it was a man named Philip. He must have been nearly sixty and was a little overweight. He paid her three hundred, despite Penny demanding more. He slapped her hard across the face when he’d finished with her; his sexual tension released and only anger for the whore now underneath him.

  Penny, scared yet in control of her gift, gave Philip the fear of being around women. It was the first time she’d used her gift in months. Philip fled the house.

  Clive had been waiting outside. He saw Philip running away. Clive would decide whether or not he was going to do business with the man again. Clive knocked on the front door and was pleased to see Penny opening it moments later. Her left cheek was red.

  “You okay?” he said, glancing around to see if anything had been damaged.

  “Fine,” Penny replied.

  “He hit you?” Clive said, coming over and taking a closer look at Penny’s face.

  “It’s nothing.” Penny felt numb inside. She hated what she’d just done, felt every bit the prostitute Penny knew she had become, not to mention drug dependant. She needed another fix. “You got me some more syrup?” She knew full well by then what it was, but she’d always referred to it like that since Clive had first introduced her to it, and it had stuck.

  “Yes, plenty,” and Clive pulled a large bag of the stuff from his jacket pocket, easily enough for a couple of weeks. Penny’s eyes lit up. “But first,” he said, closing his fist around the bag so that it was no longer visible, “you have to do something for me.” He led her up the stairs, Penny just following. She knew what he wanted precisely, and didn’t say a word as he led her into the same room she’d only been in moments before.

  6

  Believe me, when I look back to this period of my life––an often hazy, memory absent section, granted––I am not proud of any of it. It disgusts me. But I’d been taken advantage of, tricked into something by someone who I had deemed a friend, and yet he was more of a monster. I was an addict.

  Plus, I needed the money at the time.

  His calls, in those early weeks, were few and far between. Enough bags of heroin––I knew what it was by then––to tide me over, and all I had to do was keep his clients happy for the odd night or two. I could fit that all around my current life, though there was nothing ordinary, or sweet, about any of it. The drugs helped numb the pain––I was soon taking them every day, twice on days his clients came over.

  But one thing was to also shine through during that period, which is why we are here. Like a bright patch on a foggy day, I was to learn some things that winter that would change my world.

  Penny hadn’t spent any time on the computer in the last two weeks, especially not in the forums that had seemed to enthral her a fortnight ago. The after-effect of the drugs was a definite factor in that. But that is where she found herself again as college broke for the Christmas holidays. She had two weeks ahead of her, and while there was a little extra work going at the pub, she’d not taken as much as she could have, nor as much as she had planned to take a month before. Now she had another source of income that paid five times what she earned at the pub, not that she could tell anyone about it.

  Three hours into a session, Penny had finally caught up with things. She’d followed the link that she’d been sent the last time she was online, though that forum was also now dead too. As with the one she witnessed, there had been a flowing conversation, before two new people jumped in––their usernames again ominously suspicious––and the posts now showed deleted, the discussion long silent.

  Penny tried a private message, sending the same thing to Rogue2017 and User123456; I’m back online. Where can I find you to talk?

  A couple of hours after first coming online, she had a response and clicked on the link. It took her to another thread within a familiar forum, started by another new user, asking; Can anyone else out there move things with just your mind?

  Penny froze. The conversation was active and very recent. The original post, by AITOO003, was less than five minutes old. There had been many replies since. Penny scanned the flow and scrolled to the bottom of the screen. The initial messages had been an intro, mainly, Rogue2017 jumping in early, though there was no sign of anyone else Penny had come across before.

  Rogue2017: Coming back to your original question, are you talking about a magic trick?

  AITOO003: I don’t know.

  Rogue2017: Explain.

  AITOO003: Things happen around me. It’s hard to explain.

  Penny edged forward on the sofa, subconsciously holding her breath.

  Rogue2017: It’s okay for you to share what you need to say. It’s just us but won’t stay that way for long. We don’t have much time.

  AITOO003: Much time? Why?

  User123456: Sorry I’m late, but I’m here now. AITOO003, what Rogue2017 means is that people can drop in at any moment. Some users will want to mock you, and they’ll come here to ruin this conversation. It’s what they do for fun. Tell us what you mean. Are you a teenager?

  Penny took a breath for the first time in a minute. Here these two users were again working in tandem, it seemed, reaching out to another person as she’d seen them do before. Penny wouldn’t be leaving the laptop this time, and she was wondering about entering the conversation herself. Rogue2017 had sent Penny the link, so he knew she was probably watching.

  AITOO003: What does that have to do with anything?

  Rogue2017: What happens when you move stuff?

  AITOO003: Things move. I think it, and they shift.

  User123456: AITOO003 - you aren’t the only one, don’t fear.

  Rogue2017: How does it feel?

  AITOO003: I don’t understand.

  Rogue2017: When you make stuff happen. What does it feel like?

  Penny was trembling. Her insides were churning with all force and power, her gift fully active; she felt more power flowing inside her than she’d ever felt before, felt able to make anything possible.

  AITOO003: My head, I think. Something happens in my mind.

  WAI2001: Your head?

  Penny had jumped into the conversation without really meaning to, typing the reply as she was voicing it aloud in her lounge.

  AITOO003: How is it for you then WAI2001?

  Rogue2017: Don’t say anything!

  WAI2001: What?

  User123456: Yes, significant BS coming out of AITOO003. We’re out of here.

  AITOO003: Don’t go! I need help.

  No responses were coming from the others as Penny sat there pondering what she should do.

  AITOO003: WAI2001, you still here?

  Penny was about to reply when the posts from Rogue2017 and the two from User123456 all started deleting. Now the thread only showed AITOO003’s entries, as well as her own two. Another direct message came through from Rogue2017 before Penny could respond. Come away from that thread, delete your comments and find us here. We are both waiting for you. A link appeared at the bottom of the message again.

  Nothing made sense to Penny at that moment. She did what they asked, however. When she clicked on her comments, a delete box appeared, and she cleared both of her entries. She hovered over the others, but could not delete comments from anyone else. She left the thread, going back to the message she’d just received and clicked on the link.

  WAI2001: I’m here.

 
Rogue2017: You deleted everything from before?

  WAI2001: My comments, yes.

  Rogue2017: And you didn’t say anything to that liar?

  WAI2001: No, nothing. Look, why do you say it was a lie?

  User123456: Well done.

  Rogue2017: Can’t say right now.

  User123456: WAI2001, did you know what that other user was talking about?

  Penny felt thoroughly confused. She’d been in the conversation with them, but now it was just the three of them, couldn’t help but feel as if it was her against them this time.

  WAI2001: Who are you both? I mean, you know each other. You are in the same threads.

  User123456: Can’t tell you that. The beauty of this forum is that we are all nameless, faceless souls.

  WAI2001: Then what’s the point of any of it?

  Rogue2017: Good question!

  User123456: People find power in anonymity. They can speak their mind, follow their fantasies––you name it; anything is possible here. Most people, however, aren’t what they appear to be.

  WAI2001: Meaning?

  Rogue2017: Meaning you have to be able to be sure that the person you are speaking to is genuine.

  WAI2001: Genuine?

  Rogue2017: Exactly. And that other user got a question wrong.

  User123456: Careful there, Rogue2017, as we don’t yet know.

  WAI2001: Don’t yet know?

  But then Penny got it. They were talking about her. Didn’t yet know if she was genuine. Were they? How was she supposed to know who was who in the world designed to be anonymous?

  WAI2001: You mean if I’m full of crap too, I take it?

  Rogue2017: No offence intended. But people who aren’t who they pretend to be are always trying to glean every piece of information they can, so that next time, they are more convincing.

  WAI2001: But you’ll know the username. You’ll know next time.

  User123456: If only it were that simple. Many others might get fooled, plus that user will just create a new avatar.

  WAI2017: People do that?

  Penny couldn’t see any reason why that would be worth the hassle.

  Rogue2017: You have much to learn young one. Learn to read the username chosen by each person. Some are genuine calls for help. Some, like mine, are words. Others, like User123456, are generic. A few are initials, but as we’ve said before, most crave anonymity here so there would be no sense in that; if you are ever curious about what the letters used in a username might mean, shove them into Google. AITOO is a little unusual, and doesn’t yet come up on Google, but there are a few users here with that combination. Am I The Only One. These types of calls come in all variations. You’ll learn to recognise them in time.

  WAI2001: Like WAI, I imagine.

  User123456: My, you are learning fast lol.

  WAI2001: So you are wondering if I’m a genuine call for help––Who Am I?––or just a charlatan playing you all for fools?

  Rogue2017: In a nutshell, yes, and nice use of vocab.

  User123456: You see our challenge?

  Rogue2017: So tell us, why did you know AITOO003 was a fake? What made you jump into the thread as you did?

  Penny’s heart was pounding fast again. However, taking on board everything they’d just said to her, the next reply came naturally.

  WAI2001: How do I know you aren’t trying to get information from me?

  Rogue2017: You are learning fast. The simple answer is, you can’t, of course. So we have to trust each other.

  WAI2001: How can you tell the ones to trust and the ones to delete?

  Rogue2017: You’ll pick it up.

  WAI2001: That still doesn’t help me know if I can trust you?

  User123456: A valid point, though we invited you here, not the other way around. Most fakes start a thread. You’ve seen us on a few, I guess, answering people who draw our attention. If they don’t start a thread, they gatecrash one. I think you were around for the last time that happened, right? Remember DemonHunter whatever number he was.

  WAI2001: I do. So I should just trust you?

  Rogue2017: That’s all we can each do until we know for sure.

  WAI2001: Know for sure? What happens then?

  Rogue2017: Wouldn’t you like to know! Let’s just say, for the one we find in Wonderland that we see is genuine, the curtain gets pulled back––we take you to the Wizard.

  WAI2001: There is a Wizard?

  Rogue2017: The Wizard of Oz. It was a metaphor. You’ve never seen the movie, or read the book?

  WAI2001: Nope.

  Rogue2017: Did apes or something raise you? Lol.

  WAI2001: Might as well have.

  User123456: Interesting.

  WAI2001: What is?

  User123456: You’ll see.

  Rogue2017: Tell us––and it’s just us, this is an invisible thread––how did you know AITOO003 was a fake?

  Penny hadn’t taken in that she had come through to a new thread, and sure enough, the header was a different colour; it confirmed it was invisible. Only those invited by current members would ever be able to see it. There was no gatecrashing this party.

  WAI2001: It’s not the head you feel it in when you make stuff move.

  Rogue2017: Go on.

  Penny’s fingers hovered once more over the keys, frozen a few centimetres above the laptop as she contemplated if she should say any more. It wasn’t a matter of trust. She knew these two were both genuine. She just didn’t know what they were honest about, for what purpose, what reason. Why were they searching, and for whom were they looking? Had Penny finally found another outlet where she could reveal her secret? How much should she say? A full minute passed. Still, that final encouragement to go on was the last thing mentioned by any of them. She could only imagine the anticipation by the other two––whoever they were and wherever they were––as the seconds passed.

  WAI2001: It’s the stomach.

  She’d typed it. Still, there was silence, the absence of further conversation only urging her on. They wanted to know more, not to pick up snippets, not to learn stuff for the first time, she was sure, but to know for sure she was genuine. Everything inside Penny told her that was the case.

  WAI2001: It first happened to me when I was thirteen. I didn’t know what it was. It started in my stomach, connected with thought and something that shouldn’t have been possible happened, right in front of my eyes. It changed someone, and that cost me our friendship.

  Rogue2017: Bingo!

  User123456: Halleluja!

  Over the next half hour, Penny typed and typed, just pouring out stuff that had happened, while holding back some of the consequences. She wasn’t ready to have others know about them yet, if ever. In that thirty minutes, which was almost entirely dominated by Penny and her many words, the other two just adding the occasional comment, Penny experienced freedom she hadn’t known since her visits with Joy had ended. Something was compelling about sharing herself with others, her real inner self, the side she always shielded from others, too afraid and too ashamed to expose that part of her, yet it was her core being. It was who she was, and she’d known that for a while already. There had been a wild abandonment in just coming out with everything as she had and sharing with those two complete strangers.

  The strangest thing of all, for Penny, the longer the morning went on, and the more open her confessions became, the more they believed her. It was as if they’d been searching for her, though they had not said anything to that effect, not that she could recall, anyway.

  WAI2001: Look, I need to go, but I’ll be back on soon. Send me the link when you are able.

  Penny realised the time, as well as the effects of withdrawal. Her fingers were beginning to shake so that typing was becoming more of a challenge. Nothing a little more powder wouldn’t be able to help her with, but even as the thought entered her head, she hated Clive and his clients all the more. As the conversation had progressed, Rogue2017 had mentioned some invisible forums that
once she was approved, they would send her links. She was told to sit tight as it could take a while, but she’d certainly find them fascinating, if not life-changing.

  She shut down the laptop, taking the dozen or so paces it took to get into the kitchen, and in less than two minutes, a dragon once again got chased.

  7

  My all-time favourite books and films growing up have to be Harry Potter––I was hooked as many people were. It was the one memory I had of my father spending any real time with me, the first five books anyway. He was gone before we could read book six together. However, and now that I am old enough to watch it, I do enjoy The Matrix. And there was something about that week that was like I was waking up for the first time, in the Matrix itself, and aware that nothing was as I had deemed it.

  The incident that probably scared the life out of me the most happened between Christmas and New Year that month. I still get shivers down my spine thinking about it. Not the shivers I got when my drug-dependant body was craving its next fix, or the shudders that came each morning after another session with one of Clive’s clients, but raw panic. Blood-curdling reality.

  I was about to see my gift. Not see the direct effects, nor the indirect consequences, but actually, see it for the first time.

  The incident happened on Thursday morning three days after Christmas. It was still early, and Penny was low on food. She was heading toward a supermarket that, besides national holidays, was open twenty-four hours a day. It was not yet six in the morning. Penny was flush with cash––it’d been a particularly profitable night––and she was on her way to spend something on herself, for once.

  A little snow had fallen, though not very much, the temperature, especially at that time of the morning, was a few degrees below freezing. Ice warnings were up everywhere.

  The roads were quiet, though what commercial vehicles there were had already started their morning rounds. Penny had passed a couple of milk floats by the time she hit the ring road.