Chapter two
The party's over.
She leans on the wall staring absentmindedly at the brush marks that smudge the cream surface. She's been this way for over three hours, staring at nothing, thinking of John, and praying he'd return. She finds it ironic. She doesn't even pray. The only time she does is when she knows she's screwed for the maths test she somehow forgot to study for.
People's voices have been swirling around in her brain for the past three hours like an annoying itch: her mother's endless bickering about how she's almost an adult, her father roaring over the stereo whilst drinking some beer with her uncles, Nicki Minaj's high pitched, over styled American rapping, her aunties' gossips, and her cousins and friends endless chatter.
She's been out of it for three hours. Shrugging, nodding and shaking her head when she feels like it. Her mother asked what was wrong. Her aunties wanted to know. Her father glanced at her for two seconds. Her cousins were too busy looking at pictures of Justin Bieber. Her friends were watching scenes from Magic Mike of Channing Tatum stripping.
She's wanted to scream for three hours. She's wanted to howl his name hoping he'd hear her in space and return to her. But as she cuts the cake with a scowl on her face and gloats at the window, she feels trapped. She bows her head as the house caves in on her.
Her mum looks at her like she's an ungrateful child.
Her aunties keep on gossiping.
Her father drinks his beer.
Nicki Minaj keeps rapping about fucking people.
Her cousins sing to Justin Bieber.
One of her friends calls her a bitch and a party popper.
Touché.
Now the party's over. Everyone's gone and she's left all alone with the dirty dishes, the half-consumed mutilated cake, the turned over chairs, Nicki Minaj's annoying voice in the background, bits of paper and plastic on the floor and the shitty weather outside.
"Don't forget to take your pills," her mother says as she climbs up the stairs. She's pissed. Monique can feel it. It's like a foul odour in the air. She doesn't care. She just wants John back. She watches her mum slowly disappear upstairs into the small golden light.
Lightning cracks like a witch's laugh and Monique flinches. She needs John. She wants John. She removes her gaze from the window and begins putting all the rubbish in a big, black, plastic bag thinking of how it would make an efficient body bag. Watching Law and Order is finally coming in handy.
She slams her hand on the stereo pressing the stop button in the process. The rapping and autotune has been terminated. She ignores the dishes in the sink. She can't be bothered with them. Her mum will probably put them in the dishwasher in the morning. Instead, she sits on the table and stuffs her mouth with the six thousand dollar Barbie cake her mum had specially ordered for the party.
No wonder her friends thought she was like a six-year-old.
She doesn't give a damn anymore. It tastes good. Food is a girl's best friend when she's depressed.
Monique wishes John is by her side as her stomach constricts, telling her to stop eating. She wishes she could play a game of chess with him. She smiles at the thought of it. He'd probably whip her arse during the game. He always does.
She places the tattered remains of the cake in the fridge and takes the two pills prescribed by the doctor for a medical condition she's never understood. She heads upstairs before turning off all the lights. She closes the curtains in her bedroom and lies back on her bed.
Monique feels a large lump rise in her throat as she tries not to cry. John is meant to be here. He promised he would never leave. He never breaks a promise. Once he promised to give her a diamond worth a million dollars. She didn't believe him until he gave her one after she received an award for her artwork at school. She didn't deem the diamond's worth until she showed it to her father.
He took it away from her and bought a bigger house for them to live in.
Monique fights the urge to cry. She's not strong. She's never been strong. She's crap at maths. She's shit at laundry. She fails science and barely makes it through guitar lessons.
She rolls over on her side and raises her knees to her chest. Damn him. Damn him for leaving her. Her eyes feel as if they're on fire as her gaze falls on the letter on the bedside table. She turns the other way and stares at her wooden wardrobe. When she was little, she believed in Narnia. That's why she begged her parents to get her a wooden wardrobe. She believed it'd take her to the magical world of fauns, talking beasts, centaurs, Minotaurs and Aslan himself.
Monique almost snorts at her stupidity. She can barely recount how many times she's entered the wardrobe trying to find Narnia. She even got stuck inside once. She remembers the first time she went inside the wardrobe. She had put on her warm boots, coats and beanie. She even packed some snacks and tea for Mr Tumnus.
She had entered the wardrobe expecting to feel the snow on her fingers and prickly leaves on her face. She felt nothing. The cool, hard, wooden surface of the back of wardrobe shattered her dream. Of course, she told herself she had done something wrong and read The Lion, the witch and the wardrobe, over and over again. Every day she tried to enter Narnia with no avail. She even forced her mum to take her to Harvey Norman so she could try and enter Narnia. They were kicked out after she tried three wardrobes.
She decided there was something wrong with her wardrobe. She asked her dad about the wardrobe. Was it made from an apple tree? Was it from England? He looked at her as if she had grown three horns on her head and said she should go and get ready for school. She persisted. She groaned. She moaned. She yelled. She screamed. She wasn't a brat. She just wanted to go to Narnia. She wanted to know magic was real. She wanted to talk to Aslan. She wanted to experience the adventure the Pevensie children had when they arrived in the magical world. She wanted to defeat the white witch, sail to the end of the world and fight battles.
Her father finally turned to her and told her magic didn't exist. Narnia didn't exist. It was all a lie. She needed to shut up and eat her cereal.
That was the first time bitter tears fell from her eyes and slithered down her cheeks before dripping onto the marble table.
Monique removes her eyes from the wardrobe as the room door creaks open. She can still hear the thunder outside. The heavy beating of the rain on the roof overwhelms her senses. She hears the faint sounds of footsteps as they near her bed.
"Monique darling." Monique bites the inside of her mouth. Only her mother would call her darling. "What's wrong?" The bed gives a small shrill as her mum sits beside her. The bed never squeaked when John sat beside her. Monique shrugs. A deep sigh comes from her mum. She runs her hand through her hair. Monique almost recoils from her touch. Almost. "Come on darling. What's wrong?"
Monique grits her teeth. "It's John."
Her mother's jaw hardens for a split second. Monique instantly regrets telling her anything. Her mother smiles. It's a fake one. A Barbie's smile. Monique does nothing. She doesn't say a word. "Have you taken your pills darling?" Her mother says.
Monique wants to hit her across the face.
Chapter Three
The alarm rings.
She reaches out to press the stop button. She feels the table beside her. She can't reach the alarm. It keeps ringing, grinding into her skull like a chainsaw. She groans. She swears. She curses the arsehole who invented the alarm. She finally finds the device and slams her palm hard on the shut up button, before throwing it on the floor. There's a loud crash and then silence. Monique closes her eyes for a minute. She hopes the damn thing is dead. Her life would be so much better without it.
Instinctively she cocks her head to the side and whispers his name. She waits. He doesn't answer. It's then she opens her eyes and reality sinks in like a tonne of bricks. He's gone.
She wants to lay back and go back to sleep. She didn't dream of him last night. She tried envisioning him beside her. All she heard was a muffled voice. All she saw was his figure in a flannel shirt.
He didn't have a face.
She slowly gets up and places her body under the shower. The water is boiling hot. It scalds her skin. Her flesh becomes bright red, angry at the rising temperature. Steam fills the cubicle. She can barely see the tiled walls around her. She closes her eyes. She breathes in.
"John, where are you?" She asks softly.
There isn't a reply. The water falls like daggers on her skin. She reaches out and turns off the tap. The water freezes mid-air.
Monique stands in the shower, breathing and blinking. She squints her eyes. Maybe just maybe if she imagines John, he'll come back to her.
The air becomes cold and stale. Goosebumps appear on her arms. Her bones freeze the layers of skin and muscle. She begins to shiver. Her dad pounds on the door telling her to hurry up. It's almost seven fifty and school starts at eight thirty.
Great.
She wraps a towel around her body and steps out of the cubicle. She grabs her yellow uniform and hurriedly puts it on. She cringes when she looks at her reflection in the mirror. Yellow looks shit on her. Most colours look crap on her skin tone. She grabs her bag and heads out the door with an apple in her mouth.
John isn't there to say goodbye.
She's popular. She's the girl with over a thousand friends on Facebook. She's the top girl in the school's social hierarchy.
It's all a game.
It's a facade. This is how she's survived high school. She knows the rules of the game.
Once she enters the school building, everyone's eyes are on her. Some look at her with adoration. Others with loathing and self-pity. She ignores them. John taught her not to care. He said life was too short to care about other people's opinions.
But she can't help but stare at them once she turns away. Her skin prickles under the intensity of their gaze. Her friends come crowding weird her, their words violating her brain as the seconds pass.
She feels trapped. She feels lost. John had once described their relationship as that of a doll's house. She was the doll, he was the house. He was her protector; she was the damsel in distress.
John always said the doll never left the doll's house. A doll was nothing without her house. He said she couldn't live without him. He was forever her safety blanket. She needed him.
While everyone glares at her; as their voices fill her brain, she understands. She understands what happens to a doll once the dollhouse is gone.
She is broken.
Chapter Four
Monique shuts her locker. Her shadow, Stella, is beside her blabbering on about Channing Tatum or Robert Pattinson. Monique can't keep up. Stella runs a hand through her hair. Her nails are pink. Fluro pink. Just like the one Jennifer Goodwin wore to one of the many award ceremonies celebrities attend.
"I enjoyed your party yesterday," she announces as they head off to the change rooms to get ready for sport. Monique rolls her eyes. She wants to remind Stella she spent over two hours watching scenes of Channing Tatum stripping. Instead, she dumps her bag on the bench and removes her shirt. Stella does the same and goes on to talk about how much she loved the Barbie cake and how she rocked the hideous poo green dress her mother insisted she wear for the party, because it was part of her birthday present.
Monique removes her neatly polished black shoes and puts on her sport shorts before removing her skirt. More people enter the change rooms. They all say, "Hi," in high-pitched voices. Monique forces a smile. She puts on her Adidas shoes and heads out of the change rooms with Stella. They go down the stairs towards the oval. They're doing athletics for the remaining two weeks of term in order to get ready for the carnival.
Monique is keen. Stella isn't.
Monique begins stretching as other students arrive. Stella eyes their twenty-something-year-old teacher. The rule is as long as he's not married and over thirty-five, he's available.
They're given instructions to run a kilometre: five laps across the oval. Stella groans like an over constipated obese man.
Monique begins running. She knows the drill. She finishes her first lap. Then her second. Her third soon comes along and she aces it. She's halfway through her fourth when the pain kicks in. Her muscles constrict and tighten at her calves. Her breaths are deeper and quick. Sweat forms on her temple. Her chest is heavy.
Inhale....exhale......inhale...exhale
She tells herself as she does her final lap. She feels the tears stinging at the back of her eyes.
Inhale....exhale......inhale...exhale
She crosses the finish line. The teacher is impressed. Stella comes last.
Next up are hurdles. Monique aces it. It's all about technique. Like her dad said, timing is the key. And she nailed it.
It's five minutes until the bell rings. They are sent to the change rooms to change back to their uniform. Monique doesn't waste any time. She's out of there in three minutes.
She sits at a table during recess munching on Tim Tams when the rest of the popular group come along. She's detached from the conversation. She doesn't care about the party coming up and stalking Liam Hemsworth. She has her own problems to deal with.
Science is a blur. She only has vague memories of writing fuck this shit all over her textbook. Learning about a rat's reproductive system was much better.
Maths is the same. Only this time she does a quick sketch of John in her textbook. Her teacher, Mrs Bones finds out and shows the entire class her drawing. She has just moved up the list of people Monique wants to kill once she gets out of high school. Even better, she's just taken the number one spot.
Congratulations.
By the end of school, Monique is drained. Even worse, she knows John is not going to be there when she gets home. The final bell rings at three ten. Not a second early. Not a second late. Monique wishes she could go back to the start of the day again.
She takes her things out of her locker and slams it shut. It's overcast. It's going to rain and she doesn't have an umbrella.
"Hey!" She grinds her teeth together when she hears Stella behind her.
"What?" The words come out harsher than intended.
Stella winces. "Why are you so distant-"
"Distant?" Monique snaps back.
"You're acting so pissed and moody. Is it your time of the month or something?"
A bitter laugh escapes her lips. She laughs so hard she can't stop. She's sure she looks like an idiot. She looks Stella in the eye. She tries to hide the quiver in her voice as she says his name. "It's John. He's gone."
She turns around and leaves the school building. She's barely three blocks from her school when the heavens burst open and large, heavy droplets of rain cover the town.
Monique's eyes dart around the street. She nearly smiles when she sees the small shop tucked neatly in the corner. She picks up her pace and runs towards it. She pushes the door open and hurries inside. There's a single fluorescent light on the ceiling. Different types of chocolate are arranged neatly on the tables and shelves. It doesn't take long for Monique to realise it's a chocolate shop. Rosalie's Chocolate Shop, to be exact.
"Hello. May I please help you?" Monique turns around too quickly nearly pushing some chocolates to the floor. A woman stands in front of her. She has a small hawk-like nose and her red hair is pulled into a tight bun with sharp needles to keep it in place. For a moment, Monique wonders how it got into the country in the first place. It could do some great damage.
"Hello. Sorry I'm not butting in here to steal or anything. It's raining outside and I don't have an umbrella, so I decided to come in here."
The woman nods her head. "I'm Rosalie."
"Monique."
"Here. Take a seat." Rosalie points to a chair in the corner. Monique takes a seat. She instantly regrets it. Her arse digs into the material before stopping to rest on the wooden structure. She squirms but quickly stifles it. She doesn't want to be in the rain. She watches as Rosalie gracefully moves around her, inspecting the chocolate. "I hand make them," She says as she pushes a box back into place. Monique nods. John loved chocolate. "Are you okay?" Monique's head snaps up and she smiles.
"Yes. I'm fine."
She can tell Rosalie doesn't buy her lie for one second. Rosalie reaches down and takes out a box of chocolate. She opens it and beams as she picks one out. "Here, have this. It should cheer you up." She places the chocolate in Monique's palm. Monique turns it over. The words Blood Red is typed in a fancy font. She unwraps the chocolate from its wrapper and pops it in her mouth. She closes her eyes as it melts on her tongue.
She forgets about John. She forgets about the rain outside. She forgets about Stella. She forgets about parents.
Blood Red numbs her senses.
Chapter Five
Monique takes pills.
She pops six a day: three in the morning, one after school, and two at night. She doesn't know why she takes them. Her parents tell her it's because the doctor said so.
Monique fills the glass with water and takes a pill from its plastic bottle. It's big, shiny and green. She hates it. It tastes like acid in her mouth. She quickly swallows it and sculls some breakfast juice to rid her mouth of the aftertaste.
She glances at her phone as it vibrates on the bench top. She picks it up and places it down. It's a text from her mum telling her she's booked an appointment with a psychiatrist. Monique places the plastic bottle back in the fridge. She doesn't need a shrink. She doesn't need someone to sort through her problems. She's more than capable of doing it herself.
She heads upstairs and changes out of her uniform into thick trousers and a t-shirt with Swipe Me written on it. She takes a ten dollar note from her wallet, puts on her converse and heads out the door.
The shops are only a ten-minute walk from her house. They are all arranged in sequential order: the fish and chips shop, target, the art store, the news agency, the sweet shop, Coles and Bakers Delight. The automatic doors open, welcoming her into the arms of a heater. She passes the news agency and quickly looks away when she notices the manager looking at her with pointed eyes. The woman, whom she calls PMS, has always hated her for some reason. Monique is still yet to find out why. Maybe it's because she's never bought anything from the shop. It's not her fault a small packet of lollies cost five dollars instead of two dollars fifty, or that their books are over ten dollars.
She enters the sweet shop. It's heaven. Stacks of sweets, lollies bubble gum and chocolate are stacked on shelves and counters. It's a self-serve shop. That's why she loves it. And it's cheap as well. That's a bonus. She takes a large candy bag and begins filling it with chocolate, sour worms, gummy bears, jelly babies, chocolates and white chocolate fudge. She pays the Asian lady seven dollars and heads out of the shops into the cold weather.
She dislikes winter. Her hair becomes frizzy. It turns into an ice sculpture when wet and takes a long time to dry. She can't wear her shorts and she gets severe colds. But on the other hand, she doesn't have to shave her legs.
She turns left at the end of the street. This is where the suburb ends. She's in the outskirts now. No one ever wanders there. They stick to their nice, cosy homes, delighting in their apple pies and warm custard. Dead leaves crunch under her feet as she makes her way through the mangled mess of trees, vines and thorns. She's glad she wearing trousers and a long sleeve shirt. There's a high chance of being hurt out here whilst alone. She should have probably used the short cut. Oh well.
She turns at the final tree and smiles when she sees what she's looking for. A large patch of grass is only a few feet from her. A small lake lies in front of the grass. Ducks sometimes come there to swim and play around. And the good thing is, no one else knows about this place. This is Monique and John's territory.
Monique sits on the grass and begins eating a sour strap. She loves the way the sour taste tingles in her mouth before the sweet strawberry flavour takes control.
She looks at the sky. It's blue. There are no clouds today. It's just her, her sweets, the lake and the sky. She takes a chocolate and begins eating it. It's white chocolate, her favourite and it doesn't take long for her to devour it whole. She leans back on the grass chewing some gum. The grass is wet from the rain that fell earlier but is soft against her skin. Her eyes close as a cool breeze blows across the secluded spot. Strands of hair touch her face as they do their dance in the breeze.
"Monique." Her eyelids fly open at the sound of her name. It can't be. She turns her head to the side and sees him smiling at her. He's lying beside her. His arms are under his head and he's dressed in his favourite red and blue flannel shirt.
"Where have you been?" It's hardly the usual way to welcome back someone into your life. Her happiness has melted away. She's pissed. She's hurt. She's betrayed. He missed her birthday. He left her hanging. He left her vulnerable.
John only smiles. "I love you," he says as he suddenly begins to fade. His voice is carried in the wind. His body soon follows.
Monique opens her eyes and sits up. Half her sweets tumble from her lap to the floor. It's the least of her worries. She looks around. She turns her head left and right. She looks behind her calling his name. It's just a dream. It was only a dream.
Her eyes catch an object shining in the sunlight. She crawls towards it and picks it up. It's a necklace with M engraved on it. It doesn't take her long to realise it's his writing. She reads the note attached to the necklace.
Sorry, I missed your birthday. I love you.
It's then she cries.
Chapter Six
"I'm not seeing a shrink," Monique says as she stabs her fork into her piece of steak.
Her mother raises an eyebrow. "What did you say?"
"I. Said. I. Am. Not. Seeing. A. Shrink." Monique states again as she roughly cuts the steak with her knife. Small drops of blood dribble down the side and onto her plate. They stain the mash potatoes and her vegetables. She likes her steak rare.
"Why don't you want to see a psychiatrist?" Monique can see her mum is choosing her words carefully. She wants to win the argument. She has to win the argument. That's the thing with lawyers. They have to win every single argument.
"I don't have problems," Monique replies as she chews on the meat.
Her mum sips on her champagne. "I didn't say you have problems."
"Then why do you want me to go to a psychiatrist?" Monique knows the answer before her mum can say anything. People talk. People have always talked. It wouldn't look good if everyone thinks she's mentally insane. Her parents have a reputation to keep. She's nothing but a hindrance with her "problem"
"I'm just worried about you?"
"Worried? Since when did you care?" Her mum recoils. Monique stares her pointedly at her. She was never there when Monique was growing up. She'd rather spend time in the courtroom sending rapists and baby killers to jail than spend time with her own daughter.
"Your appointment is at five o'clock tomorrow. Don't be late."
She doesn't go.
Her mother has a fight with her. She screams and then gives her the silent treatment. She refuses to make her meals. Monique buys her dinner at McDonalds.
Saturday night comes along. She goes to bed early. The last night of the silent shitty mood treatment is always the worst. She locks the door and closes the curtains. She can finally look at her bedside table with normal eyes. She burnt John's letter, but his present is still around her neck, tucked under her shirt. She gives into sleep and is knocked out cold.
It isn't long before she hears voices. She can hear him screaming her name. Blaming her for everything. He howls begging for mercy. He tells her to help him escape. He's hurt. He's dying. He's on fire. She always reaches out, trying to touch him. Trying to save him. She's almost there. She never touches him. He always slips through her fingers. By the time she wakes up, sunlight is flooding into her room. She's drenched in sweat. Her throat is dry.
Her mother says hi to her for the first time in three days. Her father drinks a litre of orange juice before heading off to his study to do some work. Monique flicks through the channels and watches some Vampire Diaries. After ten minutes she becomes bored. Elena annoys the crap out of her.
She changes into her tracksuit and goes running across the suburb. The cold air blocks her nose and freezes her lungs. Her back of her head tingles. Her legs burn.
She passes the shops. She passes her school. She runs across the oval three times and heads back home. Her mum is out. Her father is still in the study. She chucks some premade food in the microwave and makes herself a smoothie.
Four minutes later the microwave beeps. The smoothie is on the table. She settles down to eat.
Tomorrow begins the last week of term. She has exams in five weeks. She should honestly start studying.
Monique finishes eating and cleans her mess. She heads upstairs to her bedroom and changes into her pyjama bottoms. As she removes her top, she sees him standing by the window. His face is charred and bloodied. His flannel shirt is now dark brown, soaked in blood.
"Save me."
She can barely hear him. His voice is cracked. Before she can reply he screams and vanishes.
The necklace burns her neck. She quickly throws it to the floor and watches as it bursts into flames.
Chapter Seven
Monique hates Mondays. Today tops the list of everything that can go wrong on a Monday morning:
Her hair is mangled.
Her shirt is crinkled.
She has lost her stockings.
Her shoes are soaking wet from the rain.
She hasn't completed her biology homework and somehow forgot about the music performance she has in ten minutes.
To top it off, she looks like a crack addict.
Swearing under her breath, she picks up a spare guitar and goes on stage as her name is called. Her teacher, Mr Blue, is not going to be impressed. Sometimes she wonders why she's so popular. She should be a social outcast.
Oh yes. She can't be an outcast. Her mummy and daddy are very rich people. People would kiss her arse to be her friend.
Her entire year group plus the principal are here to watch her make a spectacle of herself.
She begins to play and instantly cringes. Her guitar is out of tune. Her voice is pitchy. She forgets the words and muddles up the chords. She hasn't done Legohouse any justice.
Ed Sheeran would want her head on a silver platter, and she'd gladly give it to him. She finishes playing and walks off the stage. Her friend Tess walks up to her and gives her a hug saying how good she is. Monique is tempted to ask her if she's deaf, but thinks better of it.
She places the guitar back on the rack and walks away. At recess she's bombarded by people telling her how good she was at the performance.
She ignores them.
Once school is over, she hurries to Rosalie's shop and buys a pack of Blood Red. She takes one once she gets home and another before she goes to sleep.
On Tuesday she does some research on the afterlife trying to find the reason to John's torture. The only information she finds out is that he must be in hell.
She shuts the laptop lid and takes some more Blood Red.
Rosalie tells her to return back to the place where she first met John. Monique rolls her eyes at the idea.
John is not a ghost.
He's real.
Why won't anyone get that?
Chapter Eight
Monique doesn't understand her parents. Whenever she asks how they met and fell in love, her mother gushes and starts telling the story as if it's a fairy tale. They met in their final year of high school. He asked her to prom and they got prom king and queen, and things went on from there. Her father is blunt about the matter. Her mum fell pregnant with her at the age of eighteen.
It's not all rainbows and butterflies.
Her father has locked himself in his study. All he does is blabber on about money and drink beer. He's an accountant. They say money is an accountant's god. For the first time, Monique thinks it might be true.
Take for instance the time she earned money from her first job. She worked at a small fish and chips cafe near the beach. It was less than glamorous. She was given the job of peeling prawns. They were little spiky things that came in twenty-five-kilo cartons. She earned twenty-five dollars for each carton she completed. It was a shit job. By the end of the first week, after earning a hundred and seventy-five dollars, she was fired. She was too slow at peeling the prawns. Her fingers were too small and dainty. She was a delicate little thing.
Monique wanted to burn the shop to the ground.
Once she took her pay, her father began raving on about accounts and investing her money in the bank. It was as if he was speaking German. She hardly understood a word he was saying. All she wanted to do was by sweets and a Tamagotchi. Her father said she was mad. Her mother said nothing. Monique told him the money was hers to spend. He went back to drinking his beer. John later told her she was brave.
She's barely seen John but her nightmares still continue. No one else knows about it. She's feels helpless to do anything. It's starting to drive her insane.
She looks back at the maths investigation assignment she has to do during the holidays. It's on geometry and trigonometry. Both are her worst areas in maths. She closes the twenty paged booklet.
Maths can kiss her arse.
She climbs to the top of the roof and sits there. The sky is beautiful tonight. Stars twinkle brightly in the midnight sky. The breeze blows gently, ruffling her shirt. She and John used to sit up there talking about random things such as a rabbit's promiscuity and fairy tales. They even sometimes talked about Pride and Prejudice, even though she doesn't understand the book. She still hasn't read past page ten. She'd rather die.
It's the same with Twilight. Her eyes bled.
Fifty shades of Grey made her cringe. She still doesn't understand why it's so popular.
John sometimes said she wasn't a book person. She told him she had read all the chronicles of Narnia series and Eragon. He called her a liar. A Pretty Little Liar. She refused to talk to him for two days.
She goes back down to the attic, watching her steps carefully. Falling down and breaking her neck would be an unfortunate accident. She almost giggles at the thought. The attic is warm and cosy. A large bookshelf is stationed in the corner next to a table and chair. A bed lies in the middle of the room. John loved it here. Monique runs her fingers through the books. She's someone you'd call a serial reader. She can read many books at a time but rarely finishes them. It's not her fault they lose their sense of plot, wit, humour and action by the twentieth page. Sometimes it's too damn hard to understand, especially when all the characters are blonde blue-eyed bimbos and have names starting with S. It's tragic.
There's one thing she has in common with John when it comes to books: the intense and undying hatred of vampire and werewolf fiction. It's a sour taste in her mouth. Over twenty million hits appear on goggle when she searches the Internet. Over ninety percent of them are shit.
She likes Vampire Diaries, though. Damon Salvatore is a sex god.
True Blood sends her head spinning. Their small town country accent makes her think the show should be about cowboys. It's a turn off, not to mention the sex scenes that occur every five minutes.
Her mum's out again tonight, staying back at work to do extra paperwork for a case coming up. She's sure she has everything under wraps. Monique doesn't care. She's not a lawyer. She doesn't study Politics and Law at school. Her dad drinks his beer in his study. It's the only thing the man ever does. Drink beer and sort out accounts.
He's gotten drunk many times before. The first time, he broke his laptop. The second time, he ruined the study. The third time, he broke her mum's favourite china set. The fourth time, he hit her mum.
It's not all rainbows and butterflies.
Chapter Nine
She turns. She moans. She trashes on her bed. She screams. She bites her lip until blood dribbles down the sides of her mouth. Her fingers dig into the pillow, yanking the feathers from within the material. She howls his name like a lone wolf in the night.
"John."
Her eyes open. Her breaths are deep and heavy. Her bed is drenched in sweat. She can hear her parents banging on the door yelling her name, begging her to open the door. Monique shivers and curls up in a ball. She raises the rouge blankets to her chin and stares into the darkness.
Morning comes. The birds sing outside her window. She wants to shoot them. She wants to roast their chicks and fry their eggs to let them know the consequences of disturbing her sleep. She can't be bothered. Maybe tomorrow she'll do it.
It's eleven o'clock when she gets out of bed. She stumbles to the bathroom and empties half her guts into the toilet. She sits on the cold tiles for fifteen minutes before flushing the toilet. She can still taste the vomit in her mouth. She rinses her mouth with water. It still tastes like acid. She can still taste a small hint of cheese from last night's dinner. She even has a piece of lettuce stuck on her teeth. It's disgusting.
She leaves the bathroom and puts on over five jumpers. It hurts to breathe. She gently opens the door and heads downstairs. Her mum sits at the table still dressed in her nightgown.
"Where's dad?" Monique asks as she walks past her. She needs something to drink and fast.
"He's in the basement," Her mum replies. Monique pours a bottle of juice into a cup and drinks it ice cold. Her body tingles. She shivers. Her mum stands up and hands her three new pills. "What are these for?" She's not in the mood for extra pills.
"It's to help you sleep better."
Monique doesn't hesitate. She throws her head back and swallows the pills. She heads back to her room and instantly blacks out.
She forgets she hasn't eaten. She hasn't taken the pills the doctor said to take. She's going to become mental. A feral. An animal.
She forgets as she is drawn into the waves of sleep.
Chapter Ten
She hasn't taken her pills in two days.
She breaks out in sweat.
Her hands shake.
Her words mix and blend together. Her nightmares come back in full force.
A little boy haunts her dreams every night. He has blue eyes like John. He cries for his mummy. He begs her to let him go.
Monique can't get him out of her head.
No one hears her scream. She howls in her head. It's a beautiful delirium. She's slowly going mad. Mental. She's turning into an animal. No one notices. That's what the doctor's pills are for. They are there to make her sane. It's too late now. They are no more. She emptied the bottles and flushed the pills down the toilet.
Suddenly the sleeping pills her mother gave her are no longer lovely. They're deadly.
She doesn't sleep at night. She sits on her bed staring endlessly at the moon. She's almost halfway through the first week of holidays. Her maths investigation booklet lies in shreds on the floor. Her science textbook has been ripped in half. Her stationary has been snapped into two. Her bedside lamp is on the floor. Smashed. Broken into pieces. The glass shards litter the floor. And she has no memory of doing it. She's possessed. Something has a hold on her just like her mum used to say, "Never go down to the basement. Evil things lay there. They'll follow you and devour your soul."
That's what happens to her father when he gets drunk. The evil ones take a piece of his soul each and every time.
But she hasn't been down to the basement. She's never entered it.
Morning comes. She can still hear the boy's screams. She can't push him away. She can't get him out of her head. She stands up and opens the door. She begins climbing down the stairs. She walks to the kitchen and takes a knife from the drawer. It's large and sharp. If wielded properly, it could take down a grown man. Monique doesn't think. Her mind is detached from her body. She's lost in limbo. She's floating in space.
Her feet mechanically make their way to the door near the garage. All she has to do is reach out, open the door and walk down the stairs. Then she's in the basement.
Her hand reaches out to open the door when a scream shatters her brain. She turns around to find her mum behind her, hurling out questions. She says, "What are you doing? You know you shouldn't try to go down to the basement." Monique cocks her head to the side. She's not letting go of the knife. Her hand is shaking. Her head is spinning.
Where's John?
Where's John?
She needs him.
Where is he?
She needs her pills.
Where are they?
Her skin prickles. Her blood boils. Her mother took John away. Her mother has him locked up in the basement. Her mother is trying to kill John. She has to protect him. She has to get John out of the basement.
"Where is he?" Monique's voice doesn't sound like hers. She sounds like a monster. She's an animal out for revenge.
"I don't know what you're talking about Monique. Drop the knife."
Lies lies lies. Her mother is telling lies. She has John tied up in the basement. She can hear the voices coming from the ground.
"What are you doing to him?"
Her mother pales as Monique edges closer towards her, "I don't know what you're talking about." Monique edges even closer. Her mum becomes white like a sheet of paper. Her pupils dilate. Small beads of sweat form around her temples. She cowers back. Monique edges forward. Her eyes are black. Predatory
Monique roars and lunges at her. She waves the knife around like madwoman. Her mum hits her across the face. Monique stabs her with the knife. She howls in agony. She hits Monique again. Once. Twice. Three times.
Monique refuses to drop the knife. She staggers backwards. She tries to reach for the door handle but her mother throws her to the side. Monique stands up. She laughs. She's demented.
She holds the knife with both hands.
"Don't do this," Her mother pleads. "Please don't do this." Monique tries to scream. She attempts to claw her way out but is held down by bony hands. She's falling. She's crying for John. She begs the monsters to let her go.
Do it.
Kill her.
Kill the bitch.
She has John.
Kill her.
Monique takes in a sharp intake of breath before the knife is plunged into her abdomen.
The monsters are eating her soul. John is trapped in the basement. She can still hear the little boy crying for his mummy.
She blacks out as her blood sips through the gaps in the tiles.
Chapter Eleven
She groans as her eyes adjust to the sunlight. She slowly sits up and looks around. She's at a meadow. A small apple tree rests behind her. She can do nothing but blink when she sees him in front of her with his arms crossed. "I don't see why you're looking for me, Monique. You can never find me." Monique's throat constricts. Her mouth runs dry. "You have to forget about me. It's not safe."
Monique's voice quivers slightly as she makes the confession, "But I need you."
John gives her a half smile and shakes his head. "No. You don't need me." He vanishes before she can say another word.
The sound of beeping machines brings her back to reality. The smell of bleach and disinfectant hits her like a blow to the senses. White walls and machines surround her, and her body is wrapped in wires.
She begins to hyperventilate.
"Monique calm down." She looks up to see her father staring down at her with a scowl on his face. Monique cowers away. She feels numb. Drained. Lifeless. She touches her abdomen. It's covered in bandages. She doesn't remember how it got there. "You tried to kill your mother," He says. He's borderline of being pissed and murderous. Monique hopes he's just pissed. He could snap her neck if he wanted to. Not here though. Back home.
"I don't remember." She sounds like E.T. She sounds like a dying woman.
"Of course you won't remember. You didn't take your pills." Monique stares at him blankly. She's not going to tell him she flushed the pills down the toilet, or that she remembers stabbing her mum.
She isn't going to tell him anything.
A doctor walks in and stands beside her bed. Monique's eyes fall straight to the nametag clipped onto her blue overalls. Her name is Lisa Curry. That's funny. She isn't Indian.
"Hello, Monique. How are you feeling?" Monique wants to give a sarcastic response but doesn't. Her dad's in the room.
"Numb," She replies. "I feel very numb." Curry nods her head. Monique wants to say, 'I feel like shit. What have you put in my system? I'm not going to an asylum so don't even think of putting me in a bloody mental hospital, else I'll slit your throat.'
Curry takes some notes before looking at her with stern eyes, "Why haven't you been taking your pills?"
Bitch.
Monique looks at her innocently. "Please clarify which ones. I take six every day. No, actually I think it's eight or nine-"
"Just answer the damn question!" Her dad roars.
"Mum gave me some new ones so I thought they were a replacement for my old ones," Monique hastily answers.
Curry gives her a sympathetic smile. "Monique, next time just take all your pills, even if your mum gives you additional ones." Monique wants to tell her mixing drugs can be lethal, but she shuts her mouth. Curry gives her a final nod before walking out.
Her mum later enters the room and begins gushing at Monique. Monique can't remove her eyes from the bandages wrapped around her mum's arm. The doctors say as long as she takes her pills, she'll be fine.
Monique knows she'll not be fine. She can still hear the boy's shrieks in her head.
Chapter Twelve
Monique isn't looking for a friend. She's just bored. It's been three days since she left the hospital, dragging her stack of We Love You cards, and teddy bears with her. She's been sitting around all day in the backyard doing nothing. She's immobile. She can't go running or do anything strenuous. She swears she's put on some weight.
People have been arriving at her place to see how she's going. Monique hates it.
They've already started to talk. The incident also appeared on the news. Someone even made a Facebook page hoping she'd get better soon. Her entire wall and inbox has been overflowing with heartfelt words from people she knows and complete strangers. Monique just wants them to disappear. She doesn't want anyone's pity.
She tells her mum to take her to Rosalie's shop. She doesn't have to beg. Her mum complies. She drops Monique off in front of the shop and promises to be back in another hour. Monique takes a deep breath before entering the building. Rosalie is on the phone, talking to someone about cocoa powder. From the sound of it, she's annoyed. Very annoyed. It's confirmed when she slams the phone on the table and begins swearing. Monique sits on the chair watching the entire scene unfold before her.
She has never seen Rosalie angry before.
Rosalie looks up and her eyes widen when she sees Monique. "Hello Monique," she says as she walks out from behind the counter. "It's nice to see you again. How are you?"
"I'm fine."
Rosalie pulls up a stool and sits next to her. "So how is life treating you?"
"Shit. It's boring."
Rosalie laughs. "At least you're alive."
"I feel like a dead person," Monique replies as she runs her hand through her hair.
"Wait here. I have something that will make you feel better." Rosalie announces as she hurries to the back of the shop. She comes back with a large bowl of chocolate. "Tadah!" She places the chocolate on the table between them. "Chocolates are a girl's best friend."
"How much do I have to pay for them?" Monique asks as she takes one.
Rosalie shrugs, "They're free. Consider them a present. You're the only one who comes in here and talks to me."
"So you're an introvert?" Monique queries as she chews a chocolate.
Rosalie shakes her head. "No. I guess not many people like me."
"I can relate to that sometimes," Monique mumbles.
"What?"
"It's nothing." They eat in silence for a while until Monique says, "I need your help."
"What's wrong?" Monique looks her straight in the eye for a moment. It's the she knows she can trust Rosalie. Maybe it's because she gives her Blood Red. Maybe it's her big green eyes. Monique doesn't know. "Let's say you like a guy and then he suddenly starts ignoring you and pretending you don't exist. What would you do?"
Rosalie's eyes darken, "What would I do?" She plays with a chocolate wrapper. She beams. "I'd make him pay. I'd go out and show him I can do just fine without him. After all, the world is your oyster and there are many men out there."
Monique places a Blood Red in her mouth.
Rosalie's answer doesn't seem like a bad idea.
Chapter Thirteen
Monique first met John at the park when she was seven. He fixed her broken Barbie doll. He was a gentleman. He also had a toothy grin. He told her stories of castles. Of knights and adventures. He made her laugh at his antics. He snored when he slept and would always scare the monsters away at night.
When she'd ask him why he did that, he'd say, "The monsters live in the basement. They can't get to you if I scare them away."
Monique hasn't tried to go to the basement. Her parents watch her every move. Her mum still gives her pills. She takes ten now.
She sits at her study table doing her maths investigation. She received extensions from her teachers and new booklets because of her little accident. She's about finishing the maths booklet when she hears ragged breathing behind her. She turns around expecting to find her mum behind her.
She's wrong.
The boy looks at her with red eyes. Her blood runs cold. She tries to scream but nothing comes out. There are bags under his eyes. He's gaunt and stands at an awkward angle. Blood dribbles down his face. His skin is as white as paper.
"I want my mummy," He says. "I want my mummy." Monique closes her eyes. He's not real. He's a nightmare. He's a trick of the imagination.
John's voice echoes in the back of her mind. "The monsters live in the basement. They can't get to you if I scare them away."
Before Monique can say anything, the boy moves so close, their faces are almost touching. Monique crinkles her nose at the putrid smell that he emits from his body. "Why don't you help me? Get me out of the basement." He wraps a hand around her neck. Monique begins to gag. His hands are cold. Too cold for her liking "Get me out of the basement. I need to see my mummy. I want to see my mummy."
Monique wants to pry his hands away but is too scared. She can't remove her eyes from his neck. It's been slit. He's dead.
Panic rises in her chest, higher than ever before.
There are monsters in the basement.
He's the monster.
He's one of the few John has been protecting her from. Now she's alone. Vulnerable. She has no protection. The monsters can run loose now.
"Why are you in the basement?" She manages to say whilst gasping for air.
The boy's face is rigid with fear, "Man put me there. He said he'd give me some candy."
"Who is Man?"
The boy stares coldly into her eyes. He whispers, "There are more of us in the basement. It's only a matter of time before we come for you ...including the Doctor."
Monique gulps, "Who is the Doctor?"
The boy grins. He only has his two front teeth. They are yellow. Rotten. Disgusting. "Blood Red."
He vanishes.
Monique stares at the Blood Reds on her table.
Chapter Fourteen
She moves to the rhythm of the beat of 50 Cent's Candy Shop. The bass line is slow and deep as she sways her hips in accompaniment. Disco lights flash around her. Sweat rolls down her face and arms. People grind one another on the dance floor. Her black dress sticks to her flesh like a second skin. As she drops down low, her hair sticks to the back of her neck.
She shouldn't be here. She's snuck out of home. She shouldn't be dancing with him. She shouldn't be close to him.
His breath is hot against her ear. He smells like chocolate and mint; just like John. He's like a drug she can't get enough of. It's like snorting cocaine over and over again. She's high. She's not sure whether it's his cologne, the cocktails or the pills she took. But as Nicki Minaj says, she's higher than a motherfucker. She grinds her hips to his. It feels good. The blood rushes to her brain. The room is spinning. She hangs on to him for dear life. Her arms wrap around his neck. His hands are on her hips as the dirty dance on the floor moving their hips to the beat.
She has five things on her mind:
Forget about John.
Forget about the little boy.
Don't think about the basement.
Don't think about Blood Red.
Keep your fear at bay.
She has enough of dancing and removes their hand from his neck. She turns around to tell him goodbye. He smiles and gives her a peck on the cheek. He's a real gentleman. She takes some more shots. Her throat burns. Her head feels even lighter. It feels like she's taking poison. It's a shock to her system, but she's enjoying it. The handsome stranger sits next to her and orders another shot for himself before gulping it down. Monique can't help but notice the way his Adam's apple bobbles as he drinks.
He smirks when he catches her looking at him. Monique hides a blush. He takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor one more time.
She shouldn't be here. She should be heading home by now; or should she? Is it twelve or three am? She's not sure. She's too happy to care. The world is brighter and intense. The music fills her brain one more time. She doesn't even mind that she's dirty dancing to Pitbull, Kesha and Minaj. She can't help but laugh as he puts his arms around her.
She's in Narnia. She's sailing on the Dawn Treader. She's in battle with the Pevensies. She even gets to marry Prince Caspian. Of course, he looks just like Damon Salvatore. He has to look like him.
It's then she realises she's not on the dance floor. She's against the wall making out with the handsome stranger she met only two hours ago. Her hands go to his head trying to pry him away. He latches on refusing to let go. She is his drug. She's his for the night. She hasn't kissed anyone else but John. No one has ever touched her.
Don't think about John. Don't think about him.
John said she was too precious, too beautiful to be treated like dirt. She was worth more than a one night stand.
Don't think about John. He left you. Forget about him.
She squirms under him. He's crushing her rib cage. It's getting harder to breathe.
Her handsome stranger isn't handsome anymore. He's a monster.
She tries harder to push him away. He refuses to let go. His kisses are becoming more aggressive and needy. He wants something more. He's using her just like she used him. She doesn't want this. The drugs make her legs feel like jello. She can't do this. She can't cave in.
He touches her thigh. She snaps. She knees him in the groin. Once. Twice. The shock registers on his face before he falls to the ground.
"You bitch!" He yells, gritting his teeth. Monique hurries back to the table and grabs her bag. She passes him as she runs out the door. She doesn't look back. She takes out her phone and calls Stella. She tries to hide the quiver in her voice. She can't cry. John would never cry if he was in her shoes. He'd keep a straight head.
It feels like years until Stella comes to pick her up. They drive back to Monique's place in silence. As Monique is about exiting the car, Stella says, "You look like shit." Monique doesn't reply. She heads off to the side of the house to the open kitchen window and hauls herself inside the house. It's dark and cold. Monique is already shivering.
She carefully makes her way up the stairs praying from God to Britney Spears, the damn things wont squeak. She's safe. She's made it to her bedroom door. She slowly opens it and heads inside. She closes the door behind her and feels her way around the room until she finds the new lamp her parents bought to replace the old one. She turns it on and finds herself face to face with the mirror. Stella was right. She looks like a mess. Her lipstick is smudged all over her face. Her mascara is smeared all over her eyes. Her hair is a mess. Monique drops her bag to the floor. She feels dirty. She feels used. She's about heading off to the shower when she hears the clearing of throats.
Her parents are right behind her. Monique can't even look them in the eye.
She wishes she was dead.
She wishes the monsters would eat her.
She wants John back.
Chapter Fifteen
Her shrink crosses her legs as she pulls down her violet pencil skirt.
"Hello Monique," She says as she opens her notebook. Monique doesn't reply. She stares at her fingernails. They're starting to get a bit too long for her liking. They are cracked and worn from clawing at the walls at night.
Monique lifts her eyes from her fingers. She hates this place. She can't figure out if it's her shrink or the baby pink walls and the neatly organised furniture. Either way, she's getting agitated. She used to visit shrinks when she was younger. Her parents thought the idea of being able to see John was a joke. They teased her about it and let it pass for four months. Her mum even said he was her guardian angel. After a year had gone by, her parents became "worried." There's a moment where you draw the line between reality and insanity. That's what her parents did. They tried telling her John wasn't real. Of course, she didn't believe them. She could see him.
Monique met her first shrink three days after her eighth birthday. She was nuts. She sounded like some sort of new age spiritual teacher. Monique hated her pink leopard print glasses and crackly laugh. She despised the way she thought she was stupid. She even made fun of John. That crossed the line. No one made fun of John. No one ever made fun of John.
She turned the entire office upside down. The cost of the damage was over twenty thousand dollars. It turns out the furniture was one of a kind.
Monique should have bitten off the shrink's arm instead.
She met her second one a week after her tenth birthday. She was a bitch. Too bad she died of a drug overdose.
Her third shrink was her favourite. Maybe it was because it was a man or he had blue eyes like John? She still can't tell. Or maybe because he was the only one who seemed to understand her. He didn't say she was crazy. No. He immersed himself in her world. He even told her about the friend he had when he was seven. Her name was Lucy but he called her Lucy-Lu. She was Asian with big brown eyes. She always wore her hair in pigtails with red bows attached to the ends to keep them in place. He said her smile shone brighter than the sun and warmed his heart like an overflowing cup of hot chocolate. Monique never got to learn much about her because their meetings were soon terminated. Her parents thought he was unprofessional. He was meant to give them a diagnosis on her "condition" but instead made her fantasies seem real. His license was also terminated. Monique sent him two thousand dollars and some red clip on bows to him via post. Her father never suspected she was the one who took the money from his table. Three weeks later she got a letter in the mail from him saying thanks. Attached to it was the sketch she did of John. He told her to keep it. It was too precious to discard. He even sent her back a bow so she'd always remember him.
John liked him too. He liked to call him Goof. Losing Goof was like losing a life long friend. Monique still has his letter and presents with her in a safe box.
Goof never stopped loving Lucy-Lu. True love never dies.
"So I am told you have an imaginary friend," The shrink says as she looks through her notepad. Monique takes a chewy from her pocket and begins munching on it. It's mint flavour, just how she likes it. It's also John's favourite. "So," The shrink is trying to ignore her rude behaviour. "His name is John?" Monique snorts. Her mum would be appalled. "You've known him for nine years?"
"Check your notes. Shouldn't it be there?" Monique keeps on chewing the gum. She loves the way the flavour seeps through her tongue and teeth. It feels good.
"Based on the information about you, I think it's safe to say you have schizophrenia."
"Fuck you."
"Do you take your pills?"
"Ask my mother."
"Did you take your pills this morning?"
"Do you want to sample my urine?"
The shrink sighs. "I think you need help Monique. You are a danger to not only the people around you, but yourself. You've already attacked your mother and stabbed yourself."
"I'm not going to a fucking asylum. So fuck your diagnosis. I am fine. I feel good. I have friends. I have a life. Unlike you, I don't stay in an office that stinks of lemon air fresher and looks like what is supposed to be a baby's nursery. So screw you."
Monique looks at the clock. Twenty-five minutes to go. She abruptly stands up and walks out slamming the door behind her.
Chapter Sixteen
Monique runs seven red lights and almost kills five people in the space of under an hour. Adrenaline is still pumping through her veins from the meeting she had with the shrink. She's not sick. She's not mentally insane.
"Can you take me back to my mummy? She said she'd make me bacon and eggs for breakfast and then take me to the pictures." Monique slams on the brakes. She grunts as the she's jerked back into her seat.
She turns to the boy casually seating on the passenger's seat beside her and says, "Who are you?"
He shrugs. "I just want my mummy."
"Well, I can't help you if I don't know your name!" Monique snaps. The boy's bottom lip wobbles. It's then Monique realises why she hates children. "Don't start crying!" She looks him straight in the eye, "If you help me, I'll help you too." The boy nods. "Ok. Now that's a good boy. Who is Blood Red?"
"She's the Doctor," He replies.
"She?" Monique begins driving. This time, she takes a left turn at the traffic lights.
"Yes. She."
Monique comes to a stop in front of Rosalie's shop. "Come with me kid," She says as she undoes her seatbelt. The boy shrinks back into his seat. Monique can see the fear in his eyes. She sighs, "Are you going to help me or not?" The boy hesitates and then nods. She opens the door and walks in, her footsteps eating the floor.
Rosalie turns around and smiles, "Hello Monique. Would you like some Blood Red?" Monique's skin crawls. She can feel the fear radiating from the boy beside her.
"Actually no. I just wanted to know, how do you make it?"
Rosalie smiles and shakes her head, "I can't tell you, Monique. It's a family secret."
"She's lying," the boy, whispers.
Rosalie's eyes narrow. "Who said that?"
Monique's face almost drains of colour. She can hear the boy.
Monique turns around and abruptly leaves the shop.
The boy looks at her sadly as she's about entering her car. "What's your name?" She asks.
"Jimmy. Jimmy Timms." Monique smiles. It's a cute name. "Will you help me find my mummy? She must be worried. She wouldn't go to the pictures without me."
Monique nods, "I'll try to find her." She purses her lips together before asking, "Why are you scared of Rosalie?"
"Her name is not Rosalie. It's Blood Red."
"Why do you need her?"
He leans in. Their noses are touching. His eyes burn with intensity. They remind her of the way John looked when he was pissed after she tried to kiss him on her fifteenth birthday. "She left me in the basement. She left me with the monsters. She wouldn't let me go." And with that, he disappears.
John used to say, "People are not really people. Some are just monsters hidden within human features. Soon they break and there's no going back. Only blood lust satisfies them. They feed off people's screams until there's nothing left. They steal their souls and bury their body in the dirt."
He'd then turn to her and smile, before adding, "But everyone dies someday. Don't they?"
Chapter Seventeen
John has a habit of pulling pranks. Take for instance her eighth birthday. He took her to the forest and left her alone for the entire night. She told him she could have died. She could have passed out from hypothermia. She could have been eaten by a Dingo. She could have been bitten by a Tiger Snake. She may have been swallowed whole by a Python. She could have been raped and murdered by a psychopath.
John only smiled and said, "But it didn't happen. You're still alive."
Monique shivers and wraps the blanket tighter around her frame. She can feel the small tingles rising in her toes. It's been eight years; eight years since she's been here. There's no way she could ever forget this place: the way the leaves rustled at night, the luminous glow of the crescent moon, the eeriness of the woods. She can never forget that.
It didn't take her long to find this place. No. She still remembers how she got here.
Her parents were working. Her babysitter had fallen asleep on the couch. Monique was bored out of her mind. She had received the newest Barbie doll and a new monopoly set. Not that she wanted them. She told her parents she wanted books by Roald Dahl. Of course they didn't listen. They never listened. John decided to put an end to her misery after beating her once again at a game of chess. He led her out of the house. The babysitter was too out of it to even notice the door slam behind her. The cold air bit Monique's face as they made their way past the houses, the street, the bus stop and their little haven.
At first she was scared.
She was fucking scared.
To make things worse, she had gone against her parents' wishes and watched Wolf Creek the night before. She almost wet her pants five times. John called her a pansy.
John placed her in the deep in the forest before suddenly disappearing. He left her there for the entire night. Emergency crews found her in the morning half frozen suffering from dehydration, shock and hypothermia. Her babysitter was fired and Monique was stuck in a hospital room that smelled strongly of bleach and other cleaning chemicals.
John had laughed and told her it was a test and she passed.
Not many people had passed his test.
Monique shivers again. She licks her lips and soon regrets it. It tingles as another gust of wind blows. She prays she doesn't get frostbite on her lips. Cracks and cuts will be fine. She can handle that.
The sounds of leaves crunching behind her, catches her attention. She turns, not knowing what to expect. She prays it's John. Words can't describe how much she wants to see him. She needs him. She needs to understand what is going on. Her hands are still sore from clawing at the walls at night. She has cuts on her arm from breaking her mirror.
"Hello sweetie." Bile rises in her throat as his offending cologne hits her nose like a blow: a mixture of sweat and excreta. She slowly turns to look at him. She bolts up straight like she's on a bed of flames. "Scared of me are ya?" Monique starts to back away. Her heart beats erratically. She can feel it lodge in her trachea. She wants to vomit. Her eyes sting from trying to hold it down.
"Who are you?"
His lips turn into a sadistic smile. His face is burned. He doesn't have any eyes. Bits of burnt skin hang from his face.
Monique turns to run. Too late. He lunges at her and throws her to the floor laughing as if he's watching a comedy. Monique stands up once more and tries to run but he grabs her by the neck, his hands restricting the airflow to her system. She can feel her windpipe being crushed.
She curses John.
She curses Jimmy Timms.
She wishes Goof was here.
She wishes she could take some Blood Red.
She wants to die. He forces her to the floor. She takes a quick gasp of air. Her lungs are burning. Her mouth tastes like acid.
He yanks her by the hair, "Save us." His voice isn't distinct. It's hundreds of voices blending together like a mixed tape. Monique is frozen to the core. There's nothing she can do. She looks at his mutilated skin. He's going to kill her.
He's going to kill her.
He suddenly roars. His grip loosens. His hands disappear. He crumbles to dust beneath her feet.
Monique rolls over inhaling quick intakes of air into her failing system. Her head feels heavy as blood flow returns. Her throat feels tight. Constricted. But she's alive.
"I told you not to come after me." John stands beside a tree. He doesn't look pissed. He looks hurt. Monique doesn't know whether to scream or cry. She's angry. She's confused.
She needs Blood Red.
"What's going on John?" She asks. "Tell me!" She shrieks when he doesn't reply. John sighs. He's about to say something when his face contours in pain. He begins to scream as mangled arms take a hold of him, tearing him apart limb by limb until all that's left is a bloody heap on the forest floor.
"Save us."
Monique turns around and runs.
She doesn't remember tripping over slippery leaves or fallen logs. She doesn't remember running into trees or even the heavy raindrops that seep though her clothing.
She pushes the key into the front door of the house and runs inside, slamming it behind her.
"Save us."
She looks around. The room is spinning. "Leave me alone."
"Save us. Save us." The voices are coming from the basement. She's about walking away when she hears John and Jimmy scream her name.
She doesn't think. Her mother's warnings about the basement are lost within the walls of her paranoia. She's a schizophrenic, just like the shrink told her.
She's insane.
She needs her pills.
She needs John.
John. John. She needs him. She wants her dollhouse back.
Monique grabs a knife from the bench and heads to the basement door.
"Save us. Save us." Their voices are getting louder and louder. John's screams penetrate info her brain like a chainsaw. She opens the door, surprised that it's unlocked. She slowly begins her descent down the stairs.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight-
She hears a roar behind her and turns around. She slowly makes out the image of her father darting towards her like a raging lion. Monique rushes down the stairs screaming. She trips. The knife slides out of her hand like butter. The last thing she sees are freezers, and a chainsaw and butcher knives on a wooden table before darkness elopes her like a friend.
Whenever Monique asked her mother why her dad could go into the basement, her mother would always say, "The monsters can't get to your daddy, sweetie."
Chapter Eighteen
"She knows too much."
"She's our daughter, Henry!"
"What about all the others before her? We can always have another one who isn't such a pain in the neck."
"She wasn't supposed to go in there."
"But she did."
Monique groggily opens her eyes. She can't believe she's here again as her eyes adjust to the bright white room. She's in Room 264. She can tell by the small diagonal cracks on the ceiling. And the room still stinks of disinfectant. She turns her head slowly to find her parents beside a large machine talking about her.
Her dad looks pissed. Her mum, defeated. Monique doesn't know what's going on. She doesn't know how she got here. Hell, she doesn't even remember how old she is. Her mum looks at her and gasps as she hurries towards her bed.
"Hello, sweetie. Welcome back." Monique instantly recoils from her. She stinks of lavender. Monique hates lavender.
"What's going on?" She asks as she forces herself to sit up. Her body is going to be a bitch later and pay her back with a headache. Monique doesn't care.
"You fell down the stairs," Her father replies gruffly. For some reason, Monique wants to run from him. But she can't remember why. She looks at his hands. They're clenched at his sides. His eyes are hard and piercing. Eye never lie.
"Which stairs?"
"The one at home sweetie," Her mum replies as she reaches out to stroke Monique's hair.
Monique backs away and says, "I don't like people touching my hair."
But someone else did. Someone used to run their fingers through her hair. She can't remember who. The person didn't smell of lavender, but mint.
She racks her brain. Flashbacks and people zap through her mind like a slide show going at the speed of light.
John.
Jimmy Timms.
Rosalie.
John.
John.
John.
"Who is John?" She blurts out. Her father frowns.
Her mother's face drops but she instantly stifles it. "I'm sorry sweetie but we don't know who John is."
Monique sinks back into her pillow. "Who is Jimmy?" Her father pales. Monique has struck a nerve. Something is going on. She doesn't know whether to shut up and run away from them until she has answers. Instead, she yawns and goes back to sleep.
She doesn't have nightmares. Her brain is too exhausted.
She leaves the hospital the next day. The ride home is quiet. Stale. Silence engulfs the car like a bad odour. Monique is tempted to scroll down the glass window but stops just in time.
The car pulls up outside the cream and gold house. Monique can't ignore the sense of fear and dread, feasting inside her lungs. She takes her bag from the seat beside her and follows her parents into the house. It's eerie quiet and.... shiny. And it also reeks of disinfectant.
Someone has gone into a lot of trouble to clean up the place.
"Monique."
Monique turns around. "Yes?"
Her mother looks at her strangely. "I didn't call you." Monique nods and turns away. Her shirt has suddenly become uncomfortably tight and stuffy.
"Monique. Monique." It's a child's voice. She has heard it before somewhere, but can't remember where.
Monique takes the small duffel bag from the counter is about climbing the stairs when she hears her name being called again. She strains herself to where the noise is coming from. She doesn't have to think of the direction of the voice. It's instinct. She reaches out to the door on the left when a high pitched shrill stops her.
"Don't go in there!"
"Why?" Monique retorts as her mother pushes her away from the door.
"That is your father's private space. We're not allowed in there."
Monique grunts and heads upstairs. Since when did her father become a patriarchal beast from hell?
Monique easily finds her room and opens the door. It's neat. Tidy. Maybe it's too tidy. Monique smells suspicion.
She doesn't remember leaving the room like this.
She drops the bag on her bed and stands in front of the mirror.
She's pale. Gaunt. Stricken. Her eyes are two big hollow balls in her head. Her red hair lies flat and dead on her shoulders. Her fingernails are chipped. Her hands marred with scars.
Something is not right.
She sighs and slumps her shoulder. She notices a small stain on the mirror and reaches out to clean it.
Her hands touch the surface and she hears them.
She sees them.
They howl out her name.
They claw the walls.
"Save us."
Monique pulls back and they disappear. She places a hand on her chest. She's breathing hard. Her heart is lodged inside her trachea. She wants to run out of the room, but is.... oddly fascinated.
"Monique."
She spins around, almost falling to the floor. His blonde hair falls over his shoulders. His arms are covered in scars. He's pale and sickly thin.
Monique has no time to react. He wraps his hand around her head and leans in towards her.
Something clicks in Monique's brain. "John."
What he says next makes her blood freeze.
"Run."
Chapter Nineteen
Words fly around Monique's head: "Representation... Colonisation... Euphoria... Meanings..."
Monique doesn't know what is going on. She's bored out of her mind.
She's still trying to understand what is going on.
Her mother locks her in her room at night. Her father sips his beer as he plays with the knives in the kitchen, both their eyes transfixed on the door leading to the basement.
The monsters still torment her at night. Old wounds on her hands, neck and face have reopened from clawing at both the white plastered walls of her bedroom and her skin.
Her once white sheets are now dark crimson.
The pills force their way out of her system onto the blue carpet, surrounded in saliva and half chewed food.
"Monique!"
She snaps out of her daydream when she feels a hand on her shoulder. It's Stella. She's dyed her hair again. This makes it the fiftieth time she's done it this year. No wonder her hair is dead. "Come on. It's lunchtime." Monique looks around. The class is almost empty, just like her soul. She carefully takes her book from the table, making sure Stella doesn't see her arms. It took her over thirty minutes to cover up her bruises with makeup. Monique doesn't want to give people more things to talk about. She hears what they say in the hallway.
"She's crazy."
"She's mental.”
"She's anorexic."
"She almost killed her mother."
"She's suicidal."
"She's unstable."
"Stay away from the freak."
"Have you seen her lately? She looks like a corpse!"
"More like a corpse bride."
"Skinny bitch."
Monique places her books back in the metal walls of her locker. She rubs her forehead, cringing at the pain that zaps into her brain. She slammed her head on the wall last night. She flung herself on the bedroom door begging to be let out. She wanted to escape the monsters. She wanted to go to the basement. She wanted John. She needed him.
She takes a ten dollar note from her purse and shuts her locker. She walks with Stella into the canteen.
A hundred pairs of eyes turn to look at her. Monique hides a cringe. Once she was looked upon with adoration, love and even envy. Now, their eyes are cold. She's just another maniac to deal with.
Everyone looks down on the freak.
Everyone stays away from the freak.
She buys a curry and soda from the canteen before sitting at her usual spot.
Some of her group members ignore her. They treat her like a problem that will hopefully vanish into thin air. A few pass her a sideward glance and a tiny smile. Others look down on her.
It's their turn to become the Queen Bee. She has been knocked down.
She begins to drink her soda, welcoming the cool tingle that fills her mouth and throat.
Her life was perfect with John. She had everything. Even better, the monsters weren't out to get her. Her parents had always been peculiar, but John easily made her ignore it.
Now she can't.
"You're my doll," he'd say. "You need me. You're mine to play with. You're mine. Without me, you're nothing. Without me, you're lost and afraid." Monique finishes her drink.
"Without me, you're dead."
Monique sees him standing beside the canteen fridge.
The name comes back to her easily: Jimmy Timms.
He yells at her, "You were supposed to find my mummy! You were supposed to find her for me! You're just like them! You're no better than them!"
Monique abruptly stands up and walks away.
She passes Rosalie's shop while driving home but doesn't give it a second glance. Ten Blood Reds are still in her dashboard. They're like a magnet, pulling and enticing her towards them.
They want her.
They want a piece of her mind.
They want her soul.
Monique hurries home and shuts her room door.
Cameras have been installed inside the house. She's a prisoner. She's paranoid.
The cameras see everything. They know everything. Her life is recorded through their clear lenses. Monique waits for the day she smashes their heads in, and watches in satisfaction, as they become nothing but tiny mutilated pieces of technology.
Fucking bullheads.
She takes her laptop from her bed and turns it on. It instantly connects to the house Wi-Fi. Monique disconnects it. Her parents can see what she's doing. She digs into her drawer and pulls it out. It's a small Telstra USB that gives her a secure Wi-Fi for only $30 a month.
She's lucky.
She's smart.
She plugs it in and heads off to Google.
Jimmy Timms.
Over a million results pop up. Monique has her work cut out. She still has exams to study for. They're in three weeks. She has maths first, and she's failing the damn subject.
Jimmy Timms born 1995. Disappeared September 11, 2001, aged 6. Last seen at Park Avenue, Bevelend. Witnesses reported seeing him enter a red four-wheel drive before he disappeared. He has never been found and is presumed dead. His mother, Mary Timms, died in 2011 of heart failure.
Monique sighs and leans back. It's a dead end. She has nothing to work with. Maybe she does. However, she's no detective. She may have read all the Nancy Drew books as a child, but she's no Nancy Drew.
A small breeze blows through an open window. Monique sighs and closes her eye for a moment, savouring the cool air. When her eyes open, she sees it lying on the table.
It's a small business card covered in gold glitter. Written in a fancy font are the words Solo Club.
Opens Friday nights, 5pm-6am. Come along and have some fun.
Monique picks it up and scrutinises it. She doesn't see anything of importance until she looks at the back.
At the back, scrawled messily is an instruction not to be missed.
Go there.
Chapter Twenty
Monique can lie. Her mother once told her lying got little girls into trouble. Monique never listened.
Little girls don't get into trouble. Only big girls do.
But Monique doesn't remember she's a big girl now.
It's easy to lie, as long as there is a partner in crime. That's what Stella is meant for. It's a quick hit. No messes allowed. It's quite simple actually. Monique does it flawlessly. After all, she is a pretty little liar.
She tells her parents she's going to Stella's for a sleep over, so they can study for exams. Stella backs up the story. Even better, her older sister, Evelyn agrees to the idea. Their parents are out of town so they don't give a damn.
There's something good about parents who don't give a damn.
Monique's parents hesitantly let her leave. They can't say no to Stella and Evelyn, especially when they've offered Monique a chance to catch up on work and study.
It's 4pm when Monique takes her duffel bag and purse, and leaves the house. In her pocket is the Solo Club card. Her heart races with anticipation as she shuts the door. Tonight might bring her the answers to her problems.
John might even come back.
She hops into the backseat with Stella and Evelyn and smiles as her prison disappears into the distance. It takes ten minutes to arrive back at Stella's place. Evelyn is going out with her boyfriend tonight, and can give Monique her ID card. Monique is also using her car. With a little bit of makeup and darker hair, Monique can easily pass for Evelyn. Anyway, bouncers are becoming slack now a days.
Stella needs to catch up on Integrated science. Monique has to help her with English tomorrow as a price for helping her sneak into a club.
Monique dumps her duffel bag on one of the thousand dollar cream sofas as Evelyn places an order for pizza. Stella blabbers on about Channing Tatum. Turns out, she's began watching prison break, all over again just to look into his smoky eyes. Monique pretends to care.
She wants answers.
She's going to get John back tonight. He's going to protect her from the monsters. If she sees Jimmy, she'll tell him what she found out about his disappearance. Maybe he'll cross over like ghosts do in Ghost Whisperer to meet him mum. Hopefully.
Pizza arrives half an hour later and the girls dig in. Monique sticks to meat lovers.
It's John's favourite.
At four twenty, Monique pulls out her sequin dress and platform shoes from her bag, praying to God everything goes to plan.
Nothing can go wrong tonight. Nothing.
She puts on the dress and inspects herself in the mirror. She's halfway there
.
Evelyn whistles, "Damn gurl. You look hot!" Monique manages a small smile. She's suddenly become nervous. What if things don't go to plan?
Evelyn takes her makeup kit and works her magic before taking a wig, a darker shade of red and placing it on her head.
Monique looks in the mirror.
Perfect.
She's absolutely perfect.
She puts on her heels, takes the car keys from Evelyn and walks out the door. It's getting dark outside. It's easier to hide secrets in the dark.
She enters the car and drives away from the house.
Nothing can go wrong tonight. Absolutely nothing.
Chapter Twenty-one
Monique has little memory of how she stumbled out of the club and entered Evelyn's car.
Tonight is not going to plan. It's wrong. Everything is wrong.
Rosalie is the doctor.
Rosalie knows of the monsters in the basement.
Carmen is after Rosalie.
Monique speeds out of Fantasy Street, hoping she doesn't come across the cops tonight. That would a disaster.
She over runs a few red lights as she makes her way to Rosalie's shop. By the time she arrives, the feeling of dread has taken its place on her chest. Monique kicks off her shoes and runs into the shop. In her haste, she forgets to take the car keys out of the car.
Monique doesn't knock on the door -she forces it open. The door budges under her weight and flies open.
"Rosalie? Rosalie?" She screams on top of her lungs. There is no reply. Monique fiddles around in the dark until she finds a light switch and turns it on. There's no one there. She carefully makes her way to Rosalie's cooking area.
What she sees makes her heart stop. The world slows down. She feels she's about to die.
Rosalie lies on the floor. Her eyes are open and she stares up at the ceiling. Blood is everywhere. On the walls. The table. The carpet. Even the fridge.
On the wall, written in blood are the words
Murderer
Killer
Blood Red
Blood Red.
Blood Reds are scattered around Rosalie's body. Monique holds down the vomit in her throat.
"You arrived here pretty quickly." Monique jumps as she hears the voice. Carmen is sitting on the table, her legs crossed as she smokes a cigarette.
"What have you done?" Monique's voice comes out as a squeak. She hates it.
Carmen shrugs. "My job."
"You killed Rosalie!" Her voice is loud. Crackling. Desperate.
Carmen stares her down. "What makes you think I am real?"
"What?"
Carmen laughs. "How do you know I'm real?"
Monique begins stuttering and mumbling under her breath. Carmen takes a long breath of smoke before the smoke slithers out of her mouth, between her teeth, like a snake moving across the ground. "Besides," Carmen uncrosses her leg. "I've just done you a favour."
"I don't understand."
In a flash, Carmen appears in front of her. She stinks of cigarette and beer. The red bow tie is still on her hair. "You'll soon understand," she says before she disappears.
Monique breathes hard. She's hyperventilating. She wants to cry. She wants to run. She wants to scream.
She takes a step back and slips on the carpet. As she moves to stand up, she trembles. There's blood everywhere. Her hands are covered in blood. Her legs and cheek are also violated.
Monique begins to crawl away when she sees their reflection through a broken mirror.
Their eyes glance her way, but they can't see her. They're dressed in black and almost fade into the darkness.
Monique's teeth chatter uncontrollably.
She suddenly feels cold. Very cold.
This can't be happening.
No.
No.
Run.
Run.
She bolts out of the store and heads into the car. As she speeds away, she looks at them one more time.
Her parents.
Her parents are in Rosalie's shop.
Chapter Twenty-two
In year eight, Monique read Macbeth. She couldn't help but read with fascination when Lady Macbeth saw blood on her hands and couldn't wipe it away.
She was crazy. She was a murderer. An evil woman. A delusional part of mankind.
Monique can't get the blood from her hands. She suddenly feels like Lady Macbeth.
She's fucking crazy.
Cold droplets of water roll down her porcelain skin and hair as she rubs her hand vigorously with soap. This is her twenty-fifth time. She's been counting, and she's losing it. She scrubs. Her hands are hard and sore, but she doesn't stop. She has to get the blood off her hands.
She hasn't cleaned her cheek yet. She places her hand under the water, watching as the white foam of soap falls to the tiled floor and rolls into the drain. Her hands are still red with blood. It's like a tattoo she can never remove.
Monique loses it.
She slams her fist against the wall. She screams. She swears. She curses John. She curses Jimmy. She curses Rosalie. She curses Carmen.
Carmen.
Fuck Carmen.
Fucking bitch.
Whore.
Drunkard.
Slut.
Murderer.
Her words are drowned in the roar of the water rushing out of the showerhead. Monique sinks to the floor and weeps. The urge for Blood Red has never felt so great.
It takes ten slams on the door from Evelyn for Monique to turn off the shower and step outside. She wraps a blue towel around herself and leaves the bathroom. She goes into Stella's room and gets changed, not giving a damn about the unlocked door. Monique throws her hair into a ponytail trying not to look at her hands.
As she places a hair ribbon around her bun, something wet falls on her face. Monique ties her hair and touches the substance on her face. She cringes when she sees her hands.
Blood.
Monique shudders. She has to get the blood off her hands.
She stands in horror as more drops fall on her face. Monique runs to the windows and look at her reflection. There's blood everywhere. On her face. Her neck. Her chest. Her legs.
She's dripping with blood.
Monique slowly steps back as the room vanishes before her eyes. She can hear their screams again. The ground beneath her feet is cold. Harsh. Unwelcoming.
Monique wants to shuffle away, but her mind is detached from her body.
A table stands to the left with a chainsaw and axe on the side bench. The screams. The screams. She can hear them loud and clear. She sees the children huddling in the corner, some whimper. Some scream for help. Others claw at the walls. Monique looks at her scars and shudders.
Monique's eyes meet Jimmy's. She can never forget his white eyes.
"Jimmy?" She says as moves closer towards him. "Jimmy?" He doesn't reply. He stares ahead, his lips chattering with fear. Monique is about to grab and shake him when the door swings open.
"All right children. I have something for you." Monique's blood runs cold as Rosalie enters the room. In her hand is a large bowl. Monique backs away as the children hurry towards her as quickly as they can. Something in red paper is handed to them and Monique watches in both horror and fascination as they open the small packages and place the substance in their mouth.
It's an instantaneous reaction.
They stop screaming. They stop crying. They lean back on the wall and close their eyes, a smile on their lips.
Rosalie chuckles and turns around. Monique trembles with fear when their eyes meet. Rosalie slowly walks towards her. Monique's eyes search the place for some sort of exit.
But there's none.
"Don't you want one, Monique?" The words roll smoothly from Rosalie's mouth as she takes the last package from the bowl.
"Stay away from me." Monique whispers.
Rosalie grins. "You can't run away."
Monique screams and lunges at Rosalie's face.
Rosalie disappears.
The children disappear.
Jimmy is gone.
The harsh floor has been replaced with the warmth and comfort of a carpet. Monique begins to heave, but nothing comes out. Not even the pizza she ate during the afternoon. She sits on the bed and stares into space.
It's then it hits her.
Nothing went to plan tonight. She does not have John back.
For a moment, Monique wants to cry. She wants to turn the room upside down and curse the universe and the Milky Way for all her problems. But she doesn't.
John would have never done that.
She recalls what he told her once, as they sat in their paradise under the cloak of blue. "Sometimes you have to go away to find answers. Not only does it clear your head, but it gives you a new perspective."
Monique looks outside the window. She knows what she must do.
Chapter Twenty-three
Stella doesn't give up without a fight. She cries, she moans, she complains, gives Monique a dirty stare and then, the much loved silent treatment.
Monique doesn't care. Maybe tonight will end up going to plan. She quickly glances at her watch. It's 11:59 pm.
Maybe tomorrow will go to plan.
Evelyn doesn't care. She was just glad she could do something daring other than steal the biscuits from the cupboard and then blame it on Stella.
"You promised to help me study," Stella screeches again as Monique finishes packing her bag.
Monique turns around and retorts, "No. I said I might help you with your study. I didn't promise anything."
"You bitch!" Stella marches up to Monique, her blue eyes radiating anger inside her chest. She stops in front of Monique, their faces almost touching. "Leave and I'll tell your parents about your nice little trip to Fantasy Street."
Monique glares at Stella. For the first time, she feels weak and unnerved by the blue haired girl, and it agitates her. She doesn't have time for Stella's crap. Evelyn is a smarty-pants anyway. She can help Stella. "What did you say?" Monique asks through gritted teeth. If words could kill, Stella would be on the floor convulsing. Her eyes would turn white and her face pale, as her life would ever so slowly drain out of her system.
"I said "I'll tell your parents about your lovely trip to Fantasy Street.""
Monique sneers. "And I'll tell your parents about your whoring around in the bathroom toilets after school."
Stella pales. "How did you know about that?"
"I didn't. You just confirmed it." With that, Monique grabs her bag and leaves the house. Evelyn asks if she wants a lift home. Monique shakes her head. She has other ways of getting home.
She sits by the bus stop waiting. The nightly bus comes around every forty-five minutes. Monique has thirty-five minutes to wait now, thanks to her little altercation with Stella.
Monique sits still, looking at the crescent moon as she hears a mournful voice singing in the distance: "I've got my red dress on tonight, dancing in the dark in the pale moonlight."
Monique turns her head and snorts. It's probably a drunk woman. The day has only just begun and bad, bad things happen in the dark.
"I got that summertime summertime sadness..." Monique's eyes widen like saucers when she sees the silhouette of the woman, dancing in the middle of the street. Her heels tap on the floor and her hair twirls around as she spins. In her hand is a bottle.
"Carmen," Monique mutters.
She's about grabbing her bag and walking to another bus stop when Carmen's crazed laugh stops her. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Where do you think I'm going?" Monique snaps.
Carmen laughs again. In a flash, she's sitting next to Monique on the bench. Her breath stinks of alcohol and her dress is ripped. The makeup on her face is all jacked and she has blood –Rosalie's blood smeared on the side of her face. It reminds Monique of the blood on her hands.
Just like Lady Macbeth.
"What happened to you?" Monique asks with disgust. This isn't the Lucy Lu Goof told her about. This isn't the Lucy Lu that warmed up his heart like hot chocolate.
Lucy Lu is gone. Lost in the wind, and no one can bring her back.
Carmen smiles before taking another swing of the bottle and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, "Nothing. What are you doing here?"
"None of your business."
Carmen shrugs. "Yeah. That's true."
"Who took you away from Goof?" Monique whispers as Carmen takes another long, drawn out gulp of her poison.
She looks at Monique critically, through her black eyes. "They did.”
"They?"
"Those bastards with college degrees that call themselves psychiatrists."
"Oh." A long silence follows before Monique asks, "Why did you kill Rosalie?"
Carmen doesn't answer for a while. It's as if she's weighing up her options whether to tell Monique the truth or not. "Caroline Doll."
"What?"
Carmen's eyes turn white as the bus rolls down the street and towards them. "Caroline Doll."
And she vanishes into the pale moonlight with her bottle of alcohol.
Chapter Twenty-four
"Stella and I had a fight." It's the best thing Monique can come up with at the moment. Seeing her parents at Rosalie's shop has unnerved her almost to the point of beyond breaking. Carmen's words have thrown her mind into chaos. She just wants to fall asleep and wake up in John's arms. Her parents nod their heads and Monique drags her bag behind her into her room. Less than a minute later, she hears the sound of the key in the lock.
She's trapped, once again. Monique sighs and rubs her temples. Now is not a great time to be struck down with a migraine. She kicks the bag towards her study table and turns on the laptop.
Her parents monitor what she does on the Internet. Monique isn't stupid; she knows. She grabs the Telstra prepaid Internet connection USB from her drawer and inserts the device into the laptop.
It's her dirty little secret.
She goes to Google and with trembling fingers type in two words: Caroline Doll.
Monique's bones freeze and her blood turns to ice.
Dark green eyes glare at her from behind the glass screen. A scowl written on the woman's lips. Her brown hair is a mess. Her cheeks are wide and plump.
Monique opens the drawer and takes out a Blood Red. She can't believe it. She can't believe what she's seeing.
She reads the articles. She watches the trial on YouTube.
She doesn't believe what she's hearing.
Caroline Doll... Charged... Kidnapping... Poisoning... Murder.
Murder.
Murder.
It's all in front of her. She's trying to understand, but her mind is three steps behind.
Monique suddenly feels sick. Her body starts to shiver. Cold sweat breaks out on her forehead.
She sat beside the woman. She ate with the woman. She had been given Blood Reds by the woman. She had seen her lifeless body on the carpet.
Monique slams the laptop lid shut when she hears the sound of the key turning on her room door.
She hurriedly takes out the USB device from the laptop and places it in her pocket before grabbing the laptop and sliding it under her bed.
The doorknob is turning. She begins swearing fervently in her head. This cannot be happening. She hurriedly throws herself under the covers and squeezes her eyelids shut.
No one can find out her little secret.
No one.
Chapter Twenty-five
Monique watches with tired, but alert eyes, as bright rays of sunlight stream through her tattered curtains. Her heart sinks as she scans her room.
Clothes are strewn across the floor. Some of them have been ripped in half. Her table has been thrown upside down. There are more cracks on the wall. Monique holds her breath and falls back on the pillows. Her heart lurches at the sound of crinkling paper beneath her head. She slowly lifts her head and feels under the pillow. Something cold and crinkly touches her fingertips and Monique grabs it, bringing it out into the open.
It's a Blood Red
.
Monique's head pounds. The blood rushes to her head. Her heart rate accelerates. Her mouth waters.
Just one. One bite. One taste. It will help her forget. It will numb her senses.
Just one bite.
Just one.
She shakes her head and releases the Blood Red, watching as it lands on the carpet. She smiles at the sound of the garage door opening and hurries towards the window to see her parents driving away.
Her mind spins into overdrive. She knows what she has to do.
She needs to get out.
Monique grabs the duffel bag she took to Stella's place and adds some extra clothes to it, along with her laptop, the charger and her Internet connection USB, before zipping it up. She hurries towards her drawer and takes the credit card her parents gave her. Finding the car key isn't easy. It takes her ten minutes to find it under her wardrobe.
Monique hastily changes out of her blue pyjamas into jeans and a jacket, and forces her feet into some boots.
Smiling, she picks up the duffel bag and turns the cold metal knob of her room door. For a second she holds her breath, hoping the door would open. With a slight creak, it does. Monique doesn't hesitate -she slams the door behind her and rushes down stairs. She hurriedly grabs some non-perishable items from the pantry, knowing her mum would never notice a single thing missing unless it's her coffee.
As Monique hurries to the garage, she pauses for a brief second in front of the door leading to the basement. It beckons her closer, like a magnet it wants her. Monique can almost hear the voices in her head. She remains firm and hurries into the garage. She places the bag in the boot and opens the garage door.
Her heart beats erratically in her chest. She has to get out. She has to leave this place. Fear seizes her. What if her parents arrive home? What if someone from school sees her?
Monique shakes her head. There's no harm in trying. She drives out of the garage and watches as the door shuts behind her.
As she drives down the street, she doesn't think of Stella or her parents. She thinks of John, Jimmy Timms and Caroline Doll.
She thinks of the Blood Red beside her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
When Monique was twelve, she wanted to have a grand adventure like the children in books did. She wanted to run away to another land and fight dragons. She wanted to be a hero and a princess. John agreed to her plan. He too would be a hero and he'd also be her prince. They'd rule the kingdom together, just like the Pevensie children and go exploring.
Monique had packed a small bag and some chips and lollies before heading out to the street. She and John made their way around town until five o'clock that evening. By then, she had finished the chips and lollies, and both she and John were tired. So, they made their way back home.
Her parents hadn't realised she left the house.
Monique doesn't look at the yellow police tapes at Rosalie's shop. She keeps driving.
She heads out of town with Lana Del Ray songs filling the car.
Life is perfect.
Five hours later, she stops at a secluded fuel station and fills up on petrol. Before heading inside to pay, she grabs a scarf and wraps her hair, nose and mouth. No one would recognise her. After a three-worded conversation, she pays with cash and leaves.
Paying with a credit card is risky. She can easily be tracked down.
Three hours later, Monique finds herself in the middle of nowhere. She smiles. No one will find her now.
John taught her how to disappear.
She takes a right turn at the intersection between some trees. She's been here before. She knows where she's going. She and her childhood friend, Eliza, used to come here on camping trips when they were younger.
The road gets bumpier and Monique feels light headed at the thought of crashing into a tree and dying alone by herself in the middle of nowhere, before having her carcass eaten by wild animals. She thinks of dumping the car and walking to her destination, but thinks against it. She'd probably forget where she left the car. A few minutes later, she sees the small tin roof and smiles. She's almost there. She keeps on driving, watching with glee as the shack comes into view. It stands tucked neatly away behind some trees with a small garage at the side to shelter the car from various elements. Monique parks the car and sighs. She made it.
She wishes John is beside her so she can turn to him and tell him she's not a pansy. But he's not there.
Monique exits the car and takes her bag with her. She looks under the old worn out welcome mat for the key and finds it there. With the fragile key in hand, she unlocks the door and steps inside the dark sanctuary. She feels the wall for the light switch and flicks it on when she finds it. The room is lit up in a golden glow. It's clean and tidy, just the way she likes it.
Monique dumps her bag on the sofa and opens the fridge that stands beside the golden walls. A loaf of bread, a jar of jam and tub of butter are on the first shelf, while a bottle of milk and juice lay flat on the bottom shelf. Monique runs a hand through her hair and nibbles on a cracked lip. She stops when the metallic taste of blood sips on her tongue and into her system. There's no need to cause further damage. She returns to her bag and takes out the food items she brought with her, before putting them in the fridge. Then she grabs a book, Little Women, and begins reading. Twelve pages later, the book falls from her lap as she goes limp.
She dreams she's in a red dress, running through the forest. Wild dogs chase her. Wolves follow her trail. The creatures of the night thirst for her blood. She dreams of falling into a ditch and breaking her neck. She also dreams of drowning in a lake and being dragged deeper and deeper into a sea of blue by mangled hands.
Her eyes open and she instantly sits up. Deep patches of sweat stains the blue couch. Beads of perspiration seat on her head like birds on a tree. A small trickle of sweat slides along her cheek, like a snake slithering across the dying grass.
Monique sighs and runs a hand through her dishevelled mane. She has more investigations to make and doesn't have enough time on her hand. She looks at her watch. It's two pm. It's not long before her parents will realise she has run away.
They find her when they want to. Suspicions are already running high –just like how a crack user fills when they smoke crack over and over again. It's just like the out of body experience of being up in the sky with fairies.
It's like Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds.
Monique stands up and rummages through the old fridge. She cracks a smile when her hand comes in contact with the juice bottle. She takes the bottle with dainty fingers and carelessly pours the drink into an old chipped cup. Once finished, she places the bottle in the fridge and puts the cup on the table beside the blue couch.
Monique opens her duffel bag and takes out her laptop, broadband connection USB and charger. As she zips up the bag, something coarse and sharp slices her index finger. Monique yelps and snatches her hand away from the bag. She watches as the drops of blood swirls around her finger and rolls down her porcelain skin.
She quickly places the bleeding finger in her mouth and cautiously reopens the bag. Her heart lurches at the sight before her. Placed on top of her clothes is a small brown card. Monique picks it up and turns it over.
Scrawled in black ink is the word, Benzodiazepine.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Benzodiazepine:
Enhances the effect of the neurotransmitter gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA-A), resulting in sedative, hypnotic (sleep-inducing), anxiolytic (anti-anxiety), anticonvulsant, and muscle relaxant properties.
Long-term use is controversial due to concerns about adverse psychological and physical effects, increased questioning of effectiveness and because benzodiazepines are prone to cause tolerance, physical dependence, and, upon cessation of use after long-term use, a withdrawal syndrome
Monique glances at the Blood Red beside her and then, the laptop screen. For a moment, she wishes she wasn't so naive. She wishes she never met Ro-Caroline.
The pieces still don't add up. Monique still doesn't know who Man was. She doesn't know what the children were doing in her basement.
Monique reads through all her notes. Caroline Doll was charged with abduction and murder. She escaped from jail, changed her identity and became Rosalie. Sweet Rosalie who ran the chocolate shop.
Monique's skin crawls as she studies the Blood Red between her fingers. She was Rosalie's next victim.
But why wasn't she kidnapped. Why were her parents' in Rosalie's shop at the time of her death?
Things don't add up at all.
Monique closes her laptop and places it beside her. She flicks on the television and almost spits out the juice in her mouth as her picture flashes on the screen.
Monique Samuels, aged seventeen, disappeared earlier this morning. It is advised that if you see her, call the police. She is dangerous and mentally unstable. I repeat -she's dangerous and mentally unstable—
Monique turns off the television. Lies. It's all a bunch of lies. She isn't unstable. She isn't dangerous either.
She takes an over sized jumper and pulls it over her head. She opens the door and heads out into the cold. She doesn't wince as the air numbs her face. She holds her head high and keeps on walking. Monique marks her trail by making markings on tree trunks. She kicks small red stones as she makes her way up a hill. She's about collapsing to the floor when she sees the flannel shirt. She moves closer to the figure in the distance. Her heart races when she sees the short blonde curls and the dirty jean trousers.
"John?" She says as she moves closer towards him. She touches his shoulder and instantly removes her hand as pain slithers through her veins.
John turns around. His hair is on fire. The long sleeve shirt he wears slowly erodes away. John screams her name. Monique doesn't know what to do. She stands there watching as he tells her to go back home. The answer lies in the basement. Everything will make sense once she's in the basement. With a sickening crack and dying breath, John falls to the ground, dead.
Chapter Twenty-eight
2001.
Monique had been playing with her skipping rope that day at the park. She had just made friends with a little dog she called Dopey. Her mummy lay on the lawn with a cigarette in her mouth and a Pepsi-Cola beside her on the grass.
It didn't take long for Dopey to get bored. He soon began running towards the other side of the park, chasing birds and Monique followed him. They played for a while near the lake, looking around for small fish and playing fetch.
Soon, Monique began feeling tired and along with Dopey, began walking back to meet her mummy. On her way there, a woman with golden orange hair like crunchy Doritos, quickly made her way towards her. She told her, her mummy was in trouble. She was involved in a big accident and had to be taken to the hospital.
Monique began crying. She didn't want her mummy to die. The woman told her she had been sent to fetch her by the hospital and that they had to hurry. Dopey wasn't allowed to follow her because dogs were prohibited in hospitals. Monique patted his head and told him she'd come back for him as soon as she saw her mummy. The woman with orange hair then took her by the hand and led her into a blue car. Monique was anxious. She wanted to see her mummy. She wanted to hold her mummy's hand and tell her everything would be ok.
The woman led Monique into a big red four-wheel drive. In a back seat sat a little boy. His name was Jimmy. Jimmy Timms. He told her his mummy was involved in a car crash as well and he was going to see her in the hospital.
As they drove away, Monique saw her mummy, still lying on the grass with a cigarette in her mouth and a Pepsi-Cola beside her.
Monique began screaming and tried clawing her way out of the car.
It was too late. The monsters had got her. Man had found her.
She was to be his little toy.
Present.
Monique parks her car in the crowded car park outside the shopping mall. It makes it easier for her to blend in. People hardly pay attention to little details nowadays, and no one knows the license plate off by heart. Many people will walk past the car without giving it a second glance.
Monique hurriedly crosses the street and briskly walks on the grey footpath that will lead her straight home. She takes a left turn at the Frangipani tree and walks past three houses before she finds herself standing outside her home.
She takes a deep breath and unlocks the door, praying her parents aren't at home. The house still looks the same. Everything's neat and polished until they shine, and the floor smells of lavender disinfectant.
Monique turns towards the basement door and hesitantly reaches for the doorknob. It's cool against her fingers and sends delicious shivers across her arm. Monique gulps as she gently pushes the door open. This is it. It's now or never.
She enters the room and shuts the door behind her. Slowly and carefully, with the use of the railings, Monique makes her way inside the basement. The table still lies in the centre of the room with a large butcher's knife and chainsaw on the table.
Monique's heart lurches at the sound of something scraping the wall. She moves closer towards the other side of the room and finds a large cage with a boy in it.
It's Jimmy Timms.
Monique's mouth runs dry. "Jimmy," she whispers, "What are you doing here?"
"Look in the freezers," is his only reply. Monique looks at him, and then, the freezer.
"What's in the freezer?" She asks as she moves away from him.
"Man and Woman brought me here. They said they were taking me to my mummy. The Doctor gave me her Blood Reds and Man killed me," he replies in a soft voice. It chills Monique to the core.
With shaking hands, she opens the freezer. The foul smell hits her like a ton of bricks. Monique looks inside the fridge and begins screaming.
A large pile of rotting bodies lay there, caked in dry blood.
Monique shuts the freezer and turns to Jimmy. "What's the meaning of this?"
Jimmy walks through the cage and stands in front of her. "They brought us here together. You were at the park when Woman saw you. She said you were the one she was looking for. You were perfect. Absolutely perfect." Monique's knees quake as his voice morphs into a sea of blended voices. "But we were not perfect," they say. "Man killed us and placed us in the freezer."
"So they sent me to kill you." Monique turns around at the sound of John's voice. He looks the same, dressed in his flannel shirt and jeans. Monique wants to run towards him and gaze in his eyes. She wants him to tell her everything will be ok. She wants to believe the corpses in the freezer aren't real and neither is Jimmy Timms. John is back and that's all she's ever wanted. With him by her side, she can keep on living in the dollhouse, wrapped in lies.
But she knows it's not to happen.
"What are you talking about?"
"They took both of us Monique. They brought us here. You were the one Man and Woman wanted. Man killed us all, but let you live."
"But I met you when I was seven."
John shakes his head. "No. You met me when you were five, at the back of the red car. Man and Woman were to take you to the hospital to see your mum, but they never did. Instead, they brought us here."
Monique's head begins spinning. She can feel the bile rising in her throat. She breathes in deeply.
This is not happening. "Why did you want to kill me?"
John sighs and looks away. "You were perfect, Monique. You were the one they always wanted. We were just there as sport for Man and the Doctor. I was meant to kill you that day at the park, but I didn't. I couldn't."
"What's your name?" Monique asks as her memory slowly comes back.
"My name is Jimmy. Jimmy Timms."
A large lump rises in Monique's throat. "Why didn't you tell me?"
John shrugs. "I don't know?"
"Why did you leave me?"
John moves closer towards her and she flinches. "I had to keep you safe."
"Safe?" Monique asks bitterly. "You did a good job at that."
"You were never supposed to meet Rosalie or Carmen."
"But I did." Monique glares at him. "I want answers!"
"I left because the monsters wanted me. I hadn't killed you, so I had to take your place."
"Well, they nearly killed me!" Monique yells as she shows him her scars. John winces.
"I wanted you to find out the answers for yourself," he whispers.
"Damn right I did! Now I don't know what is real or not." Monique starts to cry as the pieces of the puzzle come together in her head. John –Jimmy stands there with a sorrowful expression on his face. "What do I do now?" Monique asks, looking at him with reddened eyes.
"I don't know," He replies. "Honestly I don't know."
Before Monique can sob once more, the sound of heavy footsteps fill the basement. Jimmy disappears and Monique whimpers as her Man's face comes to view. He grabs her by the hair and throws her to the cold ground. Monique screams as her head slams on the concrete floor.
"You bitch!" He roars as he wraps his hands around her neck. "I should have killed you when I had the chance! I knew it!"
Monique claws at his face in a bid to free herself from his grasp. Instead, he becomes angrier and his grip increases. She begins gagging and choking. Her eyes roll in her head as a cloud of white overwhelms her. As she's dragged further into darkness, the sound of Man's grunts and growls fill her ears.
The lyrics of Skyfall come to mind.
This is the end. Hold your breath and count to ten.
Die, bitch.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The summer breeze kisses her face as she lies on the grass. The sun's reflections give the plants a golden glow. Monique stares at the sky for a while longer, before sitting up. She's dressed in white and her red mane runs down her back. She turns to face the boy beside her, dressed in jeans and a plaid long-sleeved shirt. She asks, "Am I dead?"
He smiles and shakes his head. "No. You don't give up that easily."
"Am I In-Between?"
"No. It doesn't exist. You're in your subconscious," he explains.
"Huh?"
"You'll soon wake up, Monique. You'll forget about me and about everything that happened."
Monique shakes her head. "I don't want to forget." Her voice trembles. Tears threaten to fall.
"You have to, Monique. You have to forget."
"But I need you," She whispers. "I really do, Jimmy."
Jimmy smiles bitterly and shifts closer towards her. He carefully runs his hand across her cheek. Monique takes in his features one last time. His blonde hair and those sea green eyes she fell in love with. He leans closer and kisses her one last time.
This time, she feels it.
She feels the softness of his lips against hers. But there's something more. Something hard to put onto words on paper; she feels his love. The smell of mint fills her nostrils.
He touches her face one more time. "I love you, Monique. I always will. I'll always be here, watching you."
"I don't want you to leave." Tears stream down her face like rain falling from the heavenly skies.
John wipes them away and says, "I'll always be here. I won't be gone. I'll be right here, waiting for you." And with one final kiss, he fades away.
Monique opens her eyes. She's at the park again. Dopey barks at her whilst wagging its tail. Her mummy lies on the grass with a Pepsi-Cola by her side and a cigarette in her mouth.
A blue car drives past and she sees a small boy with blonde hair staring at her through the window. Monique smiles, waves at him, and continues playing with Dopey.