baby66
New Member
- Joined
- Apr 16, 2005
- Messages
- 3
- Gender
- Female
- HSC
- 2005
“Its not my fault! I don’t work! Don’t take it out on me!” I yelled.
“It is your fault! You never do anything to help around this house,” he yelled in reply.
“Yes I do. I help out when you’ve asked!”
“Yeah when you’re asked! You have no idea how much effort and money I put into this house. And you don’t even appreciate it! You are all so selfish. You have no idea what its like in the real world.”
I stopped myself from replying. He was in one of those moods again. Ever since mum had started working dad had taken it upon himself to act like a dickhead almost every night of the week. He was always complaining about something. If it wasn’t the state of our rooms, it was the state of the kitchen or sometimes the whole house in general.
“This house is a pigsty,” he would say. I could almost pick the precise moment he would say it.
I picked up my bowl of scrambled eggs and walked through the kitchen and just as I was about to pass him, he started up again.
“Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t finished yet!” Finished what? Being a shit or giving me chores to do I thought.
“Don’t you make that face at me,” he said loudly. I controlled the urge to roll my eyes. This was just getting worse.
“Have you emptied the dishwasher yet?”
“Yes.”
“Have you fed the cat? She’s still hanging around.”
“Yes.”
“Have you cleared up all the mess you made?”
I didn’t make any mess but what the hell …
“Yes.”
“Don’t go getting smart with me!” he exclaimed, his voice rising even more.
“I’m not! At least I'm trying not to. I was just answering your questions, that’s all,” I said defiantly.
“Don’t argue with me. Go clean your bathroom and when you’re done you can do our ensuite as well.”
What?! I thought. This is getting ridiculous. I had to bite my tongue to keep from protesting and consequently causing more trouble.
“Yep ok.” I replied with a fake smile.
“Good. Off you go. Don’t come back out until you are finished and don’t stop until you are finished either,” he said without even glancing at me.
He always went on about how he worked so hard and brought all the money into this house. I wish mum was here, she always seemed to make me feel better and calm dad down too, at her own expense. I walked quietly into my room so as not to give him another reason to go off. I shut my door and walked over to my stereo. It clicked on and music filled my room. I just needed to get my mind off things.
At first, I thought it was just a phase he was going through and that it would blow over eventually. However, it had been a year since he started acting like a shit and now I’m not sure what to do or think anymore. Early this afternoon he was fine, we were talking about my car and he was explaining to me how he had to insure it and all. It was only an hour or so ago that he started needing anger management … again.
I had walked out into the family room, which joined this kitchen as one room.
‘So what is for dinner?’ I had asked him.
He just looked at me as if he did not even understand what I had just said. I got up and walked to the pantry. I was looking at the sauces that we have with stir-fries and I found one of my favourites, ‘sweet chilli chicken’.
‘Hey Dad can we have one of these?’ I asked and showed him the packet.
‘No, I’m not making that tonight; It’s too hard,’ he had replied.
I looked down and put it back on the shelf. I walked out and headed back into my room.
‘Why don’t you have those rissoles?’ he asked.
I murmured that I might have them later and kept walking. He spoke again and asked me if I wanted steak.
“No it’s ok, ill just have the rissoles later,” I replied.
Suddenly he started going off because I had apparently turned my nose up at some sort of high quality steak he had just bought and said I could make my own dinner. I remained calm and said fine and proceeded to get some eggs out instead of rissoles because I didn’t feel as hungry anymore. When he saw what I was doing, he started up again because now, according to him, I was turning my nose up at rissoles as well. I replied that I just felt like a small dinner like scrambled eggs. Straight away, he commented on how it was pathetic that at seventeen years old I couldn’t cook rissoles. I ignored the comment, because he, like all parents, used the ‘you are nearly seventeen’ or ‘you are seventeen’ cliché to make kids feel incompetent. I had heard it so many times before, ever since I was eight and it had lost all meaning for me. I know how old I am and I know how to cook, I thought. I can cook rissoles but not with him yelling at me the whole time. I am more likely to spill something and then have him yelling at me even more.
I cracked the eggshell, poured its contents into a bowl, and whisked it a bit. In those short ten seconds it took me to do that he had thought about something else to have a whinge about, opened his mouth, and began telling me how dirty the house was. Truth was, it wasn’t. I had just vacuumed yesterday and everything had been tidied up. The part he was looking at was where he had walked in the door with his filthy shoes on to get his phone. He started going on about how mum worked now and that she doesn’t get home till late and apparently doesn’t contribute anything to the house, mortgage or in general. This was all a lie because she was always the one buying me things I needed like books for school and the groceries as well.
As I was finishing writing in my diary I heard footsteps storming down the hall. Oh shit, I thought. I forgot the bathrooms! I rushed into the bathroom opposite my room and started frantically tidying up. Dad walked in the adjoining room.
“Are you done yet?” he asked, looking around.
“Uh, no not yet.” I replied hurriedly, praying he didn’t come in and see I hadn’t even started.
“Have you done the ensuite yet?” he asked.
“Uh … no” I winced.
“What? Well what have you been doing all this time? I told you to clean the bathrooms almost fifteen minutes ago and you still haven’t done either!”
“I was doing some homework.” I replied, trying to stall him.
“But I told you to do this first!” he said.
He was approaching the door. Oh, no he’s going to kill me I thought. I turned around. He stood in the doorway with a deadly look on his face and for once, I was genuinely frightened.
“Look at this,” he said, pointing to the sink.
“It’s filthy. Why haven’t you done anything about it?”
“I’m getting there,” I replied, attempting to stand up for myself. He’s not going to walk all over me as usual. I can take care of myself.
“No, you’re not!” he yelled and moved closer. He was standing so close I could feel his breath on my face. Now is not the time to tell him that he needed a ticktack I thought.
“You’re hopeless and pathetic, you never do anything properly!”
“Yes I do!” I replied defiantly.
His hand rose above his head and swung around to connect with the side of my face. I fell to the floor from the impact.
“I’ll say it again, you’re hopeless and pathetic, you never of anything properly.”
Then he stormed back out. I kept myself from crying until he had left and then I burst into tears on the bathroom floor. He hit me, I thought. How could he hit me? I didn’t deserve that, it’s not fair. I was actually starting to get scared of him, terrified even, of my own father. I continued to sob for a good ten minutes on the spot where I had fallen battered and bruised.
“C’mon wake up” a voice beckoned as a hand pulled the sheets off me, letting the cold air sweep across my body.
“Yeah alright” I murmured, my hand reaching for the sheets and just grabbing the end of them between my fingers.
“No common get up it’s 7:30am already”
“Oh what!? I still have to have a shower.”
“Well you better hurry up.”
I jumped out of bed, slipped my feet into my blue and black slippers and raced to the laundry. I found my white shirt and skirt hanging on the cupboard, already ironed. I raced back into my room grabbed stockings and underwear and hurried into the bathroom where I had been crying only hours before. I slipped off my pyjamas, adjusted the hot and cold taps and stepped into the shower. Ahh… I thought, so refreshing. I stood there for a few minuted just enjoying the warm water run down my body, washing away all the dirt and filth.
10 minutes later, I turned the taps to the right and stepped out of the shower. I grabbed the blue towel hanging on the back of the door. As I dried myself, I glanced in the mirror and suddenly noticed the bruise that was emerging on my cheek. I gasped. How was I going to explain this? What would my friends say if they saw it? What if the teachers noticed?
I started to panic. Dad had already left for work but he would be back tonight and by then it would probable stand out like a massive bruised bulge on my face. I got dressed quickly and hurried back into my room to pack my bag and examine my sore cheek under a better light. I know I will cover it with some foundation, that will work and no one will notice. I found my light coloured powder but my foundation had disappeared. Powder only stays on for a couple of hours. I will have to keep reapplying it. After I was done, I slipped it into my pocket, checked myself over again and headed out into the kitchen.
“C’mon, hurry up. We have to leave in 10 minutes,” she said.
“Yeah I’m coming” I replied.
I sat down to eat my already served toast, which was cold and had a sip of my already prepared Milo, which wasn’t cold and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry. Besides, my cheek ached when I chewed. I ate half of the toast, half of the Milo, picked the rest up and disposed of it. I looked around; she was not anywhere to be seen. Should I try to find her? Should I tell her what happened? What if she went off at him and he hit her too? I could not let that happen, I would have to be strong and ride it out and hope it does not happen again. No one could know it would just cause even more trouble.
“Are you ready yet?” she asked as she came back into the kitchen.
“Yeah” I said quietly as I picked up my bag and headed for the back door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked curiously.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I replied quickly as I stepped out onto the veranda. She frowned but didn’t say anything more. I left her to lock the house and put the alarm on. As if we are going to get any criminals around here, I thought. We have some hi-tech security system, plus two dogs. I do not think this house will be one on the top of their list. I continued to walk to the end of the veranda. My feet hitting the wooden deck, making only little noise. Hang on, I thought. It’s too quiet. Usually our dogs Misha and Benny were jumping around joyfully, just so happy that they were with us. However, today, I heard nothing. No barking coming from the back paddock, no playful growling nearby, nothing at all.
“Misha, Benny come here, Comon” I called. There was no response. I whistled and tried calling again.
“Misha, Benny Comon.” Not a sound. This is weird I thought. Our block was only 5 acres, surely if they were in the vicinity they would have heard me. She had stopped walking too and even as I strained my ears for a sound, of any sort, there was nothing. I turned to her, she returned my gaze. Her face was blank, she looked a shade paler. She didn’t know what was going on and neither did I. I put a foot forward and headed to the end of the veranda. She followed my lead. I looked around the corner of the house to see … nothing. This is getting scary I thought. I only then noticed I could hear nothing except my own breathing. I couldn’t hear the trees swaying in the breeze, the birds chattering, the chickens making their annoying whining noises. Nothing. I dropped my bag and ran to the end of the driveway. I looked up and down the road. Nothing. I spun around to look at her. She looked panicked, she something was wrong. Then I saw it. The sight of my two, gorgeous, German Shepard’s lying so still behind the garage. At first, I was relieved at because I had found them, but that sick, dark feeling wasn’t gone. I ran over to them and suddenly knew why. Both were dead. They were lying so silently still. She came rushing over and at the sight of the still bodies let out a scream. I couldn’t believe it how could this have happened. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I looked around on the ground, searching for something, anything that would reveal how Misha and Benny died. She just stood there shocked, almost shaking.
“Sit down,” I said to her softly, she just kept staring.
“Comon sit down before you fall over,” I said more strongly. She sat down on the ground still in shock.
“How … how could this happen?” She asked.
“I don’t know.” I replied still searching. A glimmer of light caught my eye. I turned towards the reflection and found to my shock that it was a knife. Not one of those little pocketknives you can by over the counter, this one was like a butchers knife. I shuddered as looked it over and found it was covered with blood. I picked it up slowly and turned to her. I saw fear in her eyes when she realised what had happened. I looked at the knife again, it looked strangely familiar. Then I remembered, I had been using one just like it to chop up some meat a couple of days ago. I checked the end of it. I had a silver line on the back of the handle, just like the ones we have. It belonged to a set that was kept in the kitchen. I dropped the knife and bolted down the driveway, turned the alarm off hastily, ran down the veranda, unlocked the door and stepped inside. Still silent. No surprise there. I went straight to the kitchen and the place where I knew the knives were kept. I stopped dead in my tracks. All the knives were gone. Right down to the little steak knife that came with the set. I backed away and glanced out the window. I saw to my disbelief that a car was parked down at the shed, a mere 200 metres away. It was dads’ car.
I scanned the area, looking for any movement. Suddenly I saw him lurking just near the bushes near the veranda. A head of brown hair appeared, followed by dark eyes and a sharply cut nose and chiselled chin. To my dismay, he was holding a knife. Blood stains covered his hands. What had he been doing? He cannot have murdered the dogs. Why would he? Oh no, I thought, she was still outside. He was heading for the stairs that led up to the veranda. I didn’t have much time. I couldn’t think straight; I didn’t know what to do. Dazed and confused I stood there, frozen to the spot. I couldn’t understand why I was unable to move. He kept coming up the stairs, slow but persistent. There was an evil presence around him, something was defiantly wrong; I could feel it. At last, I managed to move my legs and I crept through the house to the door at the other end. I unlocked the wooden glass panelled door as quietly as I could and shut it the same way. I looked around. If he was coming up the stairs to the veranda I would have a bit of time, except I didn’t know if he was going into the house or not.
I ran around the corner of the house and there she was, still leaning over our beloved dogs. I tried to signal to her but she didn’t notice. I picked up a small rock from the gravel driveway and threw it at her. It hit her leg, but I got her attention. She stood up and looked at me angrily; she still had teary eyes. I motioned her to move to where I was. She started towards me, her heavy footsteps crunching the gravel under her weight. At around 65kg she was not a heavy person but the sound made seemed amplified by the silence. I held by index finger to my lips so she would get the hint to be quieter. She looked at me, confused but began to walk lighter. When she reached me, she said,
“What is going on?”
“Shhh …” I replied, “Not so loud.”
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Dad is here, the knives are missing and he has blood on his hands.”
“Oh my god” she replied in shock.
“He is also on the veranda or in the house, I'm not sure which. He could be anywhere now” I said quietly.
“I’m right here,” a voice said. We both jumped at the sound and spun around to find Dad towering a whole six foot over us, while we were crouching on the ground. He was holding just the one butcher knife in his blood stained hand. Her and I noticed this and stood up slowly. We backed away a few steps, just out of his reach.
“So you discovered the dogs did you?” he said, glancing at the lifeless bodies of Misha and Benny, smiling. Her and I did not say a word.
“They were useless dogs anyway, never liked them. They never did anything properly,” he continued with a smirk.
“You bastard!” I screamed and lunged at him. She grabbed me just in time.
I could feel the angry rising up within me. He had murdered them, for no reason. He was cruel, cold and heartless. My hands clenched and the rest of my body was tense. I stole a sideways look at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. She was keeping her eyes on the knife; ready for anything but at the same time was making sure I didn’t do anything stupid.
“You two look tense, what’s the matter?” he said calmly with a huge grin across his face. Again, we said nothing. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. I had to be ready for any sudden attacks; I did not know what was going to happen. He took a step forward; we took a step back.
“Hey Comon, I won’t bite,” he said with a fake hurt on his face.
“Yes well, usually I might believe you but you seem to be holding a rather large butcher’s knife with blood stains on it in your hand, in case you hadn’t noticed,” I replied.
He looked down at the knife, turned it to the side, observing it, as if he was thinking about what he was going to do with it next.
“You killed Misha and Benny!” She exclaimed with anger in her voice.
“Yes, but I already explained that,” he replied.
The grin on his face had faded. Again, I glanced at her. Her eyes darted back and forth. Finally, she met my gaze and we came to an agreement. We both got ready for it.
“So what are you two …”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Her and I spun around and ran.
“Hey where are you going?” he yelled.
We kept running. She was in front of me. I didn’t know where I was running to, all I knew was that I had to get as far away from him as I could. I could hear his slow but deliberate footsteps following us. I panicked.
“Hey wait, let’s go this way,” I yelled at her and ran past her into the garage. She followed me.
“We have to get out of here and fast!” I exclaimed. I knew he wouldn’t be far behind.
“Comon we’ll take the Ute,” she replied.
I jumped into the driver’s side of my car, a little done-up Toyota Hilux, flipped the sun-visor down, put the keys in the ignition and started the engine. At least the p-plates are still on.
“Go, go, go.” She yelled. Without thinking, I hit the accelerator, put the car into gear and reversed right out the gate, almost hitting the neighbouring fence. I put the Ute into first and turned around. He was just standing, smiling at the gate, as if he were farewelling us after a visit. This is getting freaky, I’m out of here I thought. I took off down the road, revving the engine too much before I thought of second then third gear. She sat beside me and started to cry.
“Hey don’t worry its going to be ok, we’re going to be ok,” I said to reassure her and partially myself. The car started to slow, I put my foot down, and it made no difference. Oh no.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously.
“Nothing. The car is slowing down, it won’t go,” I replied.
I looked at the fuel gauge. Empty. That would be right. Right when I needed a full tank of petrol it goes kaput!
“What’s happening?” she asked again, beginning to panic.
“We have run out of fuel,” I replied. I guided the car off the road and stopped it under a tree. I looked back; we were only a couple of hundred metres from the house. I could see a dark figure through the trees. It was moving towards us. It was him. He had known all along that we would stop close to home that’s why he was smiling when we left. He knew we would be stranded. I got out of the car and looked around. There was nothing we could use to defend ourselves with or escape with. I looked at her. She was still sitting in the car staring out the window into the distance. She hadn’t even noticed he was moving steadily towards us.
“Hey Comon get out of the car,” I said.
“Why? What’s wrong?” she asked.
“For one, the car is broken down so there is no point staying in there and two, well he’s coming.”
“What?” she exclaimed and jumped out of the car. She ran to where I was and looked down the road.
“Oh God, what do we do?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
He was coming around the bend behind us, holding as usual his big, gleaming butcher knife.
“Ok lets just go this way,” I said pointing down the road where we would have been heading if the car hadn’t stopped.
“But he’s following us, what can we do? We have to tell someone, we have to get help,” she exclaimed frantically. She was standing there, frozen to the spot. I ran over to her and pulled her. She stumbled towards me.
“Comon lets just go this way. We will find something or someone, I don’t know what but we’ll get help ok?” I said trying to calm her.
“Yeah…ok,” she muttered.
She still couldn’t believe what was happening, neither could I.
The sun was heating up as we stumbled along the road. At least I can see, I thought. But what if we didn’t find help before it got dark? Then we would have a problem, although that was several hours away. I looked back. He was still walking steadily along the road. Always persistent, always looking towards us. She was sobbing as she followed me. I wouldn’t dare break into a run, then he would pick up the pace too and wouldn’t stop until he had caught up even if we slowed down.
“Comon don’t stop, you got to keep walking,” I said to her.
“We can’t keep going like this!” she exclaimed.
“We have to stop and do something. Do you have you phone with you?
“Oh my God, yes! I do! I can’t believe I didn’t remember,” I replied.
“Geez, you could have told me, you could have checked,” she said loudly.
“Ok, settle down. You don’t want him knowing I have it. At the rate you’re going everyone within a kilometre would have heard that!”
“Sorry.”
“Well who should I ring?”
“Uh… the police?”
“Yeah, but what if they don’t pick up or don’t believe me?”
“Uh… the fire brigade. I have no idea.”
“We have to get someone to pick us up.”
“Yeah, well you could ring Shawn, he’d come get us.”
“No way. He’s mates with Dad as well. He’d pick him up first and then leave us … or worse.”
“Good point.”
“Well who then?”
“Look just ring the police and see what happens. Hurry up about it, he is catching up.”
“Yeah, we’re walking slower.”
“Just dial 000.”
Beep Beep … Beep Beep
“It’s ringing.”
“And?”
“Oh no, you’ve got to select who you want and why. This is going to take forever!”
“Can’t you make it go any faster?”
“It’s the friggin police!”
“Settle down!”
“Sorry.”
“Hello? Hello?”
“Hello. How may … Beep Beep.”
“Oh what?” I exclaimed.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Oh shit the battery has gone dead.”
“What? What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know, don’t yell at me!”
I looked behind me. Dad was less than two hundred metres away and making up ground with his long-striding gait. I’ve got to think of a way to get away from him or at least stop him somehow. Ok, what have I got I thought. I looked around. Ok, lots of trees, animals, bikes, horses and oh! Motorbikes! I could grab a couple of motorbikes and take off! That would be perfect, just have to check the fuel I thought with a slight smile. Then my conscious came into play. Oh but then, I would have to steal the bikes and that could be easier said than done. It would also waste time and give him the opportunity to catch up. If he got a bike also then we could be in serious trouble, even more so than now. Ahh, what to do, what to do? I looked at her. She was looking at me expectantly. I turned away and kept walking. I suddenly realised, we were near the main road.
“Comon, keep up, we’re almost at the main road,” I said.
“What are we going to do then?” she asked.
“Get a ride hopefully.”
“Yeah right,” she replied sarcastically.
We continued walking but never forgot about why we were. Her and I never forgot about what was behind us. I could see the cars going past on the main road. If we got there, we could get away from him. I couldn’t refer to him as Dad anymore, I didn’t know him. Although I wasn’t sure if he’d kill us, I knew he wasn’t carrying that knife for nothing.
· · · · · · · ·
“Hey brad, you better go pick your sister up soon. It’s nearly 3pm.”
“Yeah ok mum. I’ll go in a minute. I just have to finish fixing the car. It’s not starting up properly,” Brad yelled back from the garage.
“No go now. You can fix it when you get back, you don’t want to be late again,” she replied.
“Alright. Fine.”
“Bye.”
Brad hopped into his green commodore, backed out of the garage, out the gate and took off. As he was driving out of the suburbs and into the more rural part of the area, he noticed two figures stumbling along an adjoining road. They were waving frantically as he approached. It looked like they were distressed and needed help. Brad looked at them curiously and decided to pull over. He indicated and turned to the side of the road. The two figures were in fact female. As he pulled over, they came racing towards him. He wound down the window. The first one looked about sixteen or seventeen, blonde and around 5”5. The one behind her looked a bit older, probably early twenties with light brown hair and similar height. There was a close relation between the two.
“Hey I’m Brad, what seems to be the matter?” Brad asked them, half sounding like an interrogating police officer.
“Hi, my name is Dillan and this is Chelsea my cousin. We are in a lot of trouble. Can you help us?” replied the blonde hurriedly.
“What sort of trouble?” Brad asked more seriously.
“Well you see … um … I know this is going to sound crazy but my father has hit me, killed our two dogs and has been following us with a huge knife for the last half hour or so.”
Brad just looked at them in disbelief. What on earth is going on he thought.
“So you see we don’t know what to do and we could use a lift to the police station or something,” Dillan continued.
“You seriously think I am going to believe that. Can’t you make up anything better than that?” Brad replied.
“It’s the truth I swear! I’ll prove it!” she answered.
Dillan wiped all the makeup off her face to reveal the huge sore bruise on her cheek. Brad’s eyes widened and he gasped.
“Oh my God. What happened?”
“Like I said, he hit me,” she replied with tears in her eyes.
“And the whole dog and knife story?”
“It’s as real as this bruise. Can you help us or not. Please.”
“Yeah alright jump in.”
· · · · · · · ·
Brad reached over and opened the door for Chelsea and I. As I turned to look at him, I noticed he was staring out the window. I glanced in his direction and saw it. A tall man, with dark brown hair, in his fifties with sharp features and a lean body. It was him. As he got closer, we could see the blood stains on his hands. Poor Brad, I felt bad getting him involved in my problem.
“Comon, don’t just sit there and stare. Let’s go before he gets here,” she said.
“I think it’s a bit late for that.” I replied.
She turned around as well. As soon as she saw, what was coming her eyes widened and she panicked.
“Quick, Comon lets go.” She screamed.
“I don’t know… maybe if we try talking to him we could …”
“No way! Let’s go!” she replied.
“Brad please …”
“Ok we’ll go.”
Brad turned the key in the igniti0n. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh no the car must be playing up again,” he replied.
“What!” she yelled.
“Hold on it might start now… It’s not going!”
“Oh shit! He’s getting closer!”
“What are we going to do?”
“Start the car, start the car!” I yelled.
“I’m trying, I'm trying. It’s not starting!” he replied.
“Yeah we can see that” she said.
“It was working fine this afternoon” Brad exclaimed.
“What is wrong with it? Cant you just make it go?” she asked.
“I’m trying, I really am,” he answered desperately.
All of a sudden, the car roared to life. Unfortunately, Dad was only metres away, a few more strides and he could reach us.
“OK lets go,” Brad, yelled.
Screeeech! Dad had reached the car, stuck the knife in the side, and slashed a huge chunk out of the side of the car.
“Oh my god! He’s right there!” I screamed.
Brad put his foot down and took off just as Dad was about to smash the windows. I saw his hand go up, just as it had the night before, and come down just as quickly although this time he missed his target.
“Ha ha! Take that you bastard!” I yelled back at him.
“Dillan! You are just going to make it worse. Don’t cause us anymore trouble,” Chelsea scolded at me.
“He can’t get us anymore, we have nothing to worry about!”
“Well what if he finds us? What if he gets us?”
“He won’t! Don’t you understand? We are going to go to the cops and sort this whole thing out. Then, if it’s possible, we are going to help him. If it’s some sort of problem that can be fixed. Otherwise I don’t know what will happen to him.”
“Well there has got to be a reason behind his behaviour, whether it be psychological or something else.”
“Excuse me. You think that you two are going to be able t0 help him?” Brad interrupted.
“Well, yeah, we have to. He’s my father and her uncle. He’s family,” I answered.
“But what if he has some strange psychotic problem that you can’t just glue back together. I mean look what he has done. He’s abused you, killed your dogs and has followed you for a few kilometres with a huge knife which I’m sure he didn’t intend to do so he could show you how shiny it was.”
“We have to try,” Chelsea rebutted.
“Alright, ok. Lets just get you two to the police station and we’ll sort something out,” Brad said reasonably.
· · · · · · · ·
As they drove towards the police station in the centre of the town, Brad suddenly remembered.
“Oh no, I forgot to pick my sister up from school!”
“Well we can go get her now,” I said.
“It will take another 30 minutes to get there now,” he exclaimed.
“We’ll we can wait. There’s no rush. We are pretty much safe now,” I replied.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get someone else to get her,” he said as he reached for his phone. He dialled home and waited for an answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi mum”
“Oh Brad where are you? I thought you would be home by now and I need you to help me fix my car and…”
“Mum, I’m sort of busy. I have to take two girls to the police. I will explain it all later but someone needs to pick up Lillian. Don’t worry no one is hurt.”
“Oh what happened? Of course, I will get her. I’ll come straight down to the station.”
“No, no. It should not take that long. I will be home soon. Don’t worry.”
“You sure?”
“Yes mum.”
“Oh ok, well I’ll go get her right now. Be careful.”
“Alright bye mum.”
“Bye honey.”
“Your mum sounds really nice,” Chelsea said after Brad had hung up.
“Yeah, she great,” he replied proudly.
“So are you just going to drop us off at the station and then leave?” I asked.
“Well I shouldn’t stay to long. If you two have to be there for a while I can go home then come back if you like,” he offered.
“That would be nice,” Chelsea replied quickly.
“Well it’s not necessary, but if you like then…” I added.
“Of course, I’m sort of involved now so I guess I help you two out if I can.”
“You have done enough already. Taking a chance on us, that was great. I think if you hadn’t shown up then we might not have been as lucky,” I said sincerely.
“That’s ok. Glad I could help,” he replied, looking pleased with himself that he made such an impression.
“Yeah, we will have to find some way to repay you,” Chelsea added.
“Oh no that’s fine. Like I said, just happy I could help.”
They continued on their way to the police. Each one silent, thinking privately to themselves about the situation and how it could have turned out a lot different. As I gazed out the window, I saw kids playing in the street. Only young kids, probably ten or eleven. I realised how innocent and vulnerable they were, just as I was, barely 24 hours ago. I glanced at Brad who was sitting quietly in the drivers seat to the right of me. He only looked about 18 I noticed and was actually quite good looking. That’s great Dillan, you escape what was a life threatening situation and all you are thinking about is how cute the supposed hero is, yeah good one. He caught me looking at him and I pretended to notice something out his window, and then causally turned to look out my own.
As I drove on my mother’s voice echoed in my head. Be careful she said. Well no less than an hour ago I wasn’t being careful, I was being risky and if those two girls hadn’t been in so much trouble I would have been home by now. But then again, if they had been in trouble and I hadn’t listened then they might not have been alive now. Now I think of it, I am actually glad that I stopped. It will be one of those things that I will remember for the rest of my life. Although it could have turned out very different. All of a sudden, I noticed Dillan looking at me. When she saw me, she pretended that she was looking out the window but I knew she wasn’t. She seemed to be a very independent person but at the same time she wasn’t arrogant or loud, she actually seemed alright. She had an aspect about her that seemed to draw me in. With her blonde hair and deep blue eyes, she was really quite … beautiful. Here you go again Brad, always checking out the girls and not even worrying about the situation. Nice move Einstein.
As I watched Brad and Dillan they seemed to be thinking not of the situation we had gotten ourselves in, but more about each other than anything else. Dillan kept glancing at Brad, and Brad, well, you can just tell when I guy is thinking about the girl next to him. Lets just say he wasn’t concentrating as much on driving as he would be without us both in the car, but that was to be expected I guess. I could sense a spark between them, chemistry, almost like a bond. Dillan glanced at Brad. Brad saw her and turned to look. She pretended she was looking out the window. We all knew she wasn’t. I smile emerged from what had otherwise been a look of worry and despair. Maybe we would be alright, I thought. We were far enough away from my crazed uncle now that we don’t have to worry as much. He wasn’t one hundred metres behind us with a knife. Now he was merely a speck in the distance, barely visible and hopefully we would never see him that close, like that, ever again. Wishful thinking Chelsea, wishful thinking.
“So uh, tell us about your family Brad. You know about ours already. What’s your’s like?” Dillan asked casually.
“Well, my mum is in a psychiatric ward, Dad is in hospital and my sister is close to going to juvenile, well, little people’s jail,” he replied seriously.
Chelsea and I just stared at him; mouths wide open, not believing a word of what he had just said.
“I’m kidding. Sorry. My family is great. Dad is a tradesman, mum works at a bank and my sister just started year 8 at high school,” he assured us with a smile.
“That was not funny,” Chelsea shot back.
“Sort of seems that you were making fun of our situation,” I added angrily.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to come across that way,” he replied reassuringly.
“That’s ok. I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” I replied.
“So how much further to the police? I just really want to get there,” Chelsea asked.
“Uh, probable another 10 minutes more or less,” he answered.
“Ok well we have to get our story right. What are we going to tell them?”
“We tell them the truth, every little detail,” I exclaimed.
“And what about Brad? Well I guess we will have to tell them how he saved us ay?”
“That’s right Chelsea,” I nodded. I knew she was mucking around. I guessed she was just going over it in her head and wanted some reassurance from me, even though she was the older, more mature one. I guess we all needed to be reminded.
· · · · · · · ·
“So where do you last see him?”
“Near the corner of … road. He was still following us and tried to attack us with a knife but got Brad’s car instead,” I replied.
“Alright well we will send someone out to look for him.”
“Well maybe you should send 2 or 3 officers, he does have a knife, well he did last time we saw him,” Chelsea added frightfully. Talking about the incident had bought up her fear and distress again so she was still quite edgy.
“Ok miss, well we will send a couple of guys out to look for him and see what we find.”
“Ok thanks officer,” I said. He walked away to organise the search.
“Well what happens now?” Brad asked. He was still with us.
“I guess we wait. What else can we do?” I replied.
“I’m sort of hungry though. Can we go get some maccas?” he asked nicely with a smile on his face.
“Yeah I guess so. It’s only just down the road isn’t it?”
“Yep. Do you want to come or …?”
“Yeah we will all go. I’ll go tell them where we are going and then we can head off.”
“Ok, well I grab Chelsea, she’s outside.”
“Alright, ill meet you at the car.”
“Chelsea, Chelsea?” Brad called. There was a silence. Like the silence that happened just before they came face to face with Dillan’s dad. Brad didn’t know this.
“Chelsea?” he yelled again. Something was wrong but who couldn’t tell what.
“Brad? What are you doing?” Chelsea asked as she came round the corner of the station.
“What are you doing? Dillan and I are going to get some food, well maccas. Do you want to come?”
“Yeah sure. I’m starving and I could use some food,” she replied quietly.
“Alright lets go then,” he replied, turning to walk towards the car.
“Hold on. There’s something I should tell you first,” she said, with a flicker of mischief in her eyes.
“What’s that?” he asked as he turned around.
“My cousin likes you. I can tell.”
“Yeah? Well I sort of like your cousin too.”
“Oh is that right?”
“Uh, I guess. Yeah that is right.”
“So is it fair enough to say that you would do anything for her?”
“Maybe not anything, but most things, yeah I guess so. Why?”
“No reason. I just wanted to know where you two stood. How you felt about her and how she felt about you. That’s all.”
“Well how does she feel about me?”
“About the same as you feel about her, more or less.”
“Well how do you know…” he was stopped mid-sentence.
“Hey Chelsea, Brad, you ready?”
“Yeah we are coming,” Chelsea replied cheerfully.
“Alright I’ll go get the car,” she called out and walked away.
“Oh by the way Brad.”
Brad turned to look at Chelsea. Hey this chick was alright before but now she’s getting a little strange.
“If you do anything to hurt her in anyway, I’ll come after you. Just like uncle Doyle did today. You know he had every right to try and attack her. He was never after me; you see he didn’t really kill the dogs. I did.”
“What? You can’t be serious. You both said that he did it! Why would you lie? Why would you do it? You didn’t really, did you?”
“I’m sorry to say Brad but I did.”
“And the bruise? What else did you do?”
“No the bruise was him. I was the one who emptied the petrol out of the car, I was the one who made sure the phone battery was dead, I was the one who killed the dogs and I was the one who set it all up.”
“But why? What did she ever do to you?”
“You see I was getting tired of her thinking she was living in a dream world. And I was sick of living with them, knowing that they had a happy little family while mine were split in two wandering the world without me. So I decided that I’d make her world come crashing down, so she knew how it felt. She was always saying to me ‘oh it’s ok they will come back soon, they still love you’. But the truth was, they weren’t coming back and they never intended to. Oh, but her father Doyle, well he was going off the rails even before I thought of my little scheme. So that worked out quite well. So really all I had to do was look distressed, cry a little and there we go, instant emotions, they didn’t have to be real, I only had to act as if they were.” Chelsea said with an evil grin on her face. It was a look of complete self-satisfaction.
“That’s awful. How could you do that? To your own cousin? Your family?”
“Well a few months ago my dear uncle Doyle was diagnosed as a schizophrenic. No one but me knew this and I never told a soul. So it was really quite easy to get him to chase after us with a knife and make him look like he was possessed when really it wasn’t even his fault. He was just doing what I said and not asking questions. Dillan still doesn’t know to this day and she never will. She will go through her life wondering why her dad turned on her and in a way abandoned her just like mine did.”
“So all this is about revenge and how you never had a real relationship with your family, your dad.”
“Exactly, why should she not have to suffer as I did? Why should she have all the joys of life that I never ever had?”
“You still have a family. You still have a father. Why reck her relationship with her own? It’s not right. You must understand this somehow.”
“I do, but that doesn’t change anything. It will be a wake up call for her and now that her dad is going to be put away either in jail or a mental institution I will be the one looking after her. And she’ll never know the real reason why.”
“She’ll find out one day. It will come out sooner or later,” Brad exclaimed, backing away from what clearly was a psychotic young woman.
“No she never will. You are never going to speak a word of this to anyone,” Chelsea replied edging closer to him.
“You can’t stop me. I’ll tell her and then you will both be locked up,” he said defiantly.
“You know your starting to sound like her. I don’t like it. Oh by the way, she really does like you. You two had a bond.”
“What do you mean had?’ he asked angrily. All of a sudden Doyle walked out from behind the building with a shotgun in his hand. It was aimed directly at Brad. One shot and he’d be dead.
“Well have, had, it’s all the same really,” Chelsea exclaimed with a laugh.
“Comon, Chelsea you’re not a killer. Tell him to put the gun down and I'm sure we can work something out,” he replied anxiously.
“No, no, you forgot I am a killer. Remember the dog story? Well that’s still true.”
“Comon Chelsea, you don’t have to do this.”
“Get ready uncle Doyle, this guy knows too much. Oh but wait that’s my fault,” she laughed. Doyle tightened his grip on the gun and got ready to shot. One hit, that’s it.
“Please Chelsea. Everyone will hear. Please don’t. There has to be a better way,” he pleaded.
“Good bye Brad. Oh and uh, thanks for the lift.”
“Chelsea! Doyle! Please…”
Bang!
“Nice work uncle,” Chelsea muttered as Brad’s lifeless body fell to the ground.
“Can we go now?” Doyle asked Chelsea, unsure of what was really going on.
“Yeah lets go. We’re on a role,” she laughed. As Doyle walked away Chelsea stopped to gaze over Brad. So young, so innocent really. Wish it didn’t have to come to this she thought. But I did tell him what happened so really he was going to have to kill him anyway. Oh well. Chelsea walked away from the scene satisfied for once in her life that she was now the one person she had to count on and that no one could tell her otherwise.
**** THE END ****
I REALLY NEED YOU OPINION, GOOD BAD OR UGLY... TELL ME WHAT U THINK...
“It is your fault! You never do anything to help around this house,” he yelled in reply.
“Yes I do. I help out when you’ve asked!”
“Yeah when you’re asked! You have no idea how much effort and money I put into this house. And you don’t even appreciate it! You are all so selfish. You have no idea what its like in the real world.”
I stopped myself from replying. He was in one of those moods again. Ever since mum had started working dad had taken it upon himself to act like a dickhead almost every night of the week. He was always complaining about something. If it wasn’t the state of our rooms, it was the state of the kitchen or sometimes the whole house in general.
“This house is a pigsty,” he would say. I could almost pick the precise moment he would say it.
I picked up my bowl of scrambled eggs and walked through the kitchen and just as I was about to pass him, he started up again.
“Where do you think you’re going? I haven’t finished yet!” Finished what? Being a shit or giving me chores to do I thought.
“Don’t you make that face at me,” he said loudly. I controlled the urge to roll my eyes. This was just getting worse.
“Have you emptied the dishwasher yet?”
“Yes.”
“Have you fed the cat? She’s still hanging around.”
“Yes.”
“Have you cleared up all the mess you made?”
I didn’t make any mess but what the hell …
“Yes.”
“Don’t go getting smart with me!” he exclaimed, his voice rising even more.
“I’m not! At least I'm trying not to. I was just answering your questions, that’s all,” I said defiantly.
“Don’t argue with me. Go clean your bathroom and when you’re done you can do our ensuite as well.”
What?! I thought. This is getting ridiculous. I had to bite my tongue to keep from protesting and consequently causing more trouble.
“Yep ok.” I replied with a fake smile.
“Good. Off you go. Don’t come back out until you are finished and don’t stop until you are finished either,” he said without even glancing at me.
He always went on about how he worked so hard and brought all the money into this house. I wish mum was here, she always seemed to make me feel better and calm dad down too, at her own expense. I walked quietly into my room so as not to give him another reason to go off. I shut my door and walked over to my stereo. It clicked on and music filled my room. I just needed to get my mind off things.
At first, I thought it was just a phase he was going through and that it would blow over eventually. However, it had been a year since he started acting like a shit and now I’m not sure what to do or think anymore. Early this afternoon he was fine, we were talking about my car and he was explaining to me how he had to insure it and all. It was only an hour or so ago that he started needing anger management … again.
I had walked out into the family room, which joined this kitchen as one room.
‘So what is for dinner?’ I had asked him.
He just looked at me as if he did not even understand what I had just said. I got up and walked to the pantry. I was looking at the sauces that we have with stir-fries and I found one of my favourites, ‘sweet chilli chicken’.
‘Hey Dad can we have one of these?’ I asked and showed him the packet.
‘No, I’m not making that tonight; It’s too hard,’ he had replied.
I looked down and put it back on the shelf. I walked out and headed back into my room.
‘Why don’t you have those rissoles?’ he asked.
I murmured that I might have them later and kept walking. He spoke again and asked me if I wanted steak.
“No it’s ok, ill just have the rissoles later,” I replied.
Suddenly he started going off because I had apparently turned my nose up at some sort of high quality steak he had just bought and said I could make my own dinner. I remained calm and said fine and proceeded to get some eggs out instead of rissoles because I didn’t feel as hungry anymore. When he saw what I was doing, he started up again because now, according to him, I was turning my nose up at rissoles as well. I replied that I just felt like a small dinner like scrambled eggs. Straight away, he commented on how it was pathetic that at seventeen years old I couldn’t cook rissoles. I ignored the comment, because he, like all parents, used the ‘you are nearly seventeen’ or ‘you are seventeen’ cliché to make kids feel incompetent. I had heard it so many times before, ever since I was eight and it had lost all meaning for me. I know how old I am and I know how to cook, I thought. I can cook rissoles but not with him yelling at me the whole time. I am more likely to spill something and then have him yelling at me even more.
I cracked the eggshell, poured its contents into a bowl, and whisked it a bit. In those short ten seconds it took me to do that he had thought about something else to have a whinge about, opened his mouth, and began telling me how dirty the house was. Truth was, it wasn’t. I had just vacuumed yesterday and everything had been tidied up. The part he was looking at was where he had walked in the door with his filthy shoes on to get his phone. He started going on about how mum worked now and that she doesn’t get home till late and apparently doesn’t contribute anything to the house, mortgage or in general. This was all a lie because she was always the one buying me things I needed like books for school and the groceries as well.
As I was finishing writing in my diary I heard footsteps storming down the hall. Oh shit, I thought. I forgot the bathrooms! I rushed into the bathroom opposite my room and started frantically tidying up. Dad walked in the adjoining room.
“Are you done yet?” he asked, looking around.
“Uh, no not yet.” I replied hurriedly, praying he didn’t come in and see I hadn’t even started.
“Have you done the ensuite yet?” he asked.
“Uh … no” I winced.
“What? Well what have you been doing all this time? I told you to clean the bathrooms almost fifteen minutes ago and you still haven’t done either!”
“I was doing some homework.” I replied, trying to stall him.
“But I told you to do this first!” he said.
He was approaching the door. Oh, no he’s going to kill me I thought. I turned around. He stood in the doorway with a deadly look on his face and for once, I was genuinely frightened.
“Look at this,” he said, pointing to the sink.
“It’s filthy. Why haven’t you done anything about it?”
“I’m getting there,” I replied, attempting to stand up for myself. He’s not going to walk all over me as usual. I can take care of myself.
“No, you’re not!” he yelled and moved closer. He was standing so close I could feel his breath on my face. Now is not the time to tell him that he needed a ticktack I thought.
“You’re hopeless and pathetic, you never do anything properly!”
“Yes I do!” I replied defiantly.
His hand rose above his head and swung around to connect with the side of my face. I fell to the floor from the impact.
“I’ll say it again, you’re hopeless and pathetic, you never of anything properly.”
Then he stormed back out. I kept myself from crying until he had left and then I burst into tears on the bathroom floor. He hit me, I thought. How could he hit me? I didn’t deserve that, it’s not fair. I was actually starting to get scared of him, terrified even, of my own father. I continued to sob for a good ten minutes on the spot where I had fallen battered and bruised.
“C’mon wake up” a voice beckoned as a hand pulled the sheets off me, letting the cold air sweep across my body.
“Yeah alright” I murmured, my hand reaching for the sheets and just grabbing the end of them between my fingers.
“No common get up it’s 7:30am already”
“Oh what!? I still have to have a shower.”
“Well you better hurry up.”
I jumped out of bed, slipped my feet into my blue and black slippers and raced to the laundry. I found my white shirt and skirt hanging on the cupboard, already ironed. I raced back into my room grabbed stockings and underwear and hurried into the bathroom where I had been crying only hours before. I slipped off my pyjamas, adjusted the hot and cold taps and stepped into the shower. Ahh… I thought, so refreshing. I stood there for a few minuted just enjoying the warm water run down my body, washing away all the dirt and filth.
10 minutes later, I turned the taps to the right and stepped out of the shower. I grabbed the blue towel hanging on the back of the door. As I dried myself, I glanced in the mirror and suddenly noticed the bruise that was emerging on my cheek. I gasped. How was I going to explain this? What would my friends say if they saw it? What if the teachers noticed?
I started to panic. Dad had already left for work but he would be back tonight and by then it would probable stand out like a massive bruised bulge on my face. I got dressed quickly and hurried back into my room to pack my bag and examine my sore cheek under a better light. I know I will cover it with some foundation, that will work and no one will notice. I found my light coloured powder but my foundation had disappeared. Powder only stays on for a couple of hours. I will have to keep reapplying it. After I was done, I slipped it into my pocket, checked myself over again and headed out into the kitchen.
“C’mon, hurry up. We have to leave in 10 minutes,” she said.
“Yeah I’m coming” I replied.
I sat down to eat my already served toast, which was cold and had a sip of my already prepared Milo, which wasn’t cold and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry. Besides, my cheek ached when I chewed. I ate half of the toast, half of the Milo, picked the rest up and disposed of it. I looked around; she was not anywhere to be seen. Should I try to find her? Should I tell her what happened? What if she went off at him and he hit her too? I could not let that happen, I would have to be strong and ride it out and hope it does not happen again. No one could know it would just cause even more trouble.
“Are you ready yet?” she asked as she came back into the kitchen.
“Yeah” I said quietly as I picked up my bag and headed for the back door.
“What’s wrong?” she asked curiously.
“Nothing. Nothing at all,” I replied quickly as I stepped out onto the veranda. She frowned but didn’t say anything more. I left her to lock the house and put the alarm on. As if we are going to get any criminals around here, I thought. We have some hi-tech security system, plus two dogs. I do not think this house will be one on the top of their list. I continued to walk to the end of the veranda. My feet hitting the wooden deck, making only little noise. Hang on, I thought. It’s too quiet. Usually our dogs Misha and Benny were jumping around joyfully, just so happy that they were with us. However, today, I heard nothing. No barking coming from the back paddock, no playful growling nearby, nothing at all.
“Misha, Benny come here, Comon” I called. There was no response. I whistled and tried calling again.
“Misha, Benny Comon.” Not a sound. This is weird I thought. Our block was only 5 acres, surely if they were in the vicinity they would have heard me. She had stopped walking too and even as I strained my ears for a sound, of any sort, there was nothing. I turned to her, she returned my gaze. Her face was blank, she looked a shade paler. She didn’t know what was going on and neither did I. I put a foot forward and headed to the end of the veranda. She followed my lead. I looked around the corner of the house to see … nothing. This is getting scary I thought. I only then noticed I could hear nothing except my own breathing. I couldn’t hear the trees swaying in the breeze, the birds chattering, the chickens making their annoying whining noises. Nothing. I dropped my bag and ran to the end of the driveway. I looked up and down the road. Nothing. I spun around to look at her. She looked panicked, she something was wrong. Then I saw it. The sight of my two, gorgeous, German Shepard’s lying so still behind the garage. At first, I was relieved at because I had found them, but that sick, dark feeling wasn’t gone. I ran over to them and suddenly knew why. Both were dead. They were lying so silently still. She came rushing over and at the sight of the still bodies let out a scream. I couldn’t believe it how could this have happened. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. I looked around on the ground, searching for something, anything that would reveal how Misha and Benny died. She just stood there shocked, almost shaking.
“Sit down,” I said to her softly, she just kept staring.
“Comon sit down before you fall over,” I said more strongly. She sat down on the ground still in shock.
“How … how could this happen?” She asked.
“I don’t know.” I replied still searching. A glimmer of light caught my eye. I turned towards the reflection and found to my shock that it was a knife. Not one of those little pocketknives you can by over the counter, this one was like a butchers knife. I shuddered as looked it over and found it was covered with blood. I picked it up slowly and turned to her. I saw fear in her eyes when she realised what had happened. I looked at the knife again, it looked strangely familiar. Then I remembered, I had been using one just like it to chop up some meat a couple of days ago. I checked the end of it. I had a silver line on the back of the handle, just like the ones we have. It belonged to a set that was kept in the kitchen. I dropped the knife and bolted down the driveway, turned the alarm off hastily, ran down the veranda, unlocked the door and stepped inside. Still silent. No surprise there. I went straight to the kitchen and the place where I knew the knives were kept. I stopped dead in my tracks. All the knives were gone. Right down to the little steak knife that came with the set. I backed away and glanced out the window. I saw to my disbelief that a car was parked down at the shed, a mere 200 metres away. It was dads’ car.
I scanned the area, looking for any movement. Suddenly I saw him lurking just near the bushes near the veranda. A head of brown hair appeared, followed by dark eyes and a sharply cut nose and chiselled chin. To my dismay, he was holding a knife. Blood stains covered his hands. What had he been doing? He cannot have murdered the dogs. Why would he? Oh no, I thought, she was still outside. He was heading for the stairs that led up to the veranda. I didn’t have much time. I couldn’t think straight; I didn’t know what to do. Dazed and confused I stood there, frozen to the spot. I couldn’t understand why I was unable to move. He kept coming up the stairs, slow but persistent. There was an evil presence around him, something was defiantly wrong; I could feel it. At last, I managed to move my legs and I crept through the house to the door at the other end. I unlocked the wooden glass panelled door as quietly as I could and shut it the same way. I looked around. If he was coming up the stairs to the veranda I would have a bit of time, except I didn’t know if he was going into the house or not.
I ran around the corner of the house and there she was, still leaning over our beloved dogs. I tried to signal to her but she didn’t notice. I picked up a small rock from the gravel driveway and threw it at her. It hit her leg, but I got her attention. She stood up and looked at me angrily; she still had teary eyes. I motioned her to move to where I was. She started towards me, her heavy footsteps crunching the gravel under her weight. At around 65kg she was not a heavy person but the sound made seemed amplified by the silence. I held by index finger to my lips so she would get the hint to be quieter. She looked at me, confused but began to walk lighter. When she reached me, she said,
“What is going on?”
“Shhh …” I replied, “Not so loud.”
“What is it?” she whispered.
“Dad is here, the knives are missing and he has blood on his hands.”
“Oh my god” she replied in shock.
“He is also on the veranda or in the house, I'm not sure which. He could be anywhere now” I said quietly.
“I’m right here,” a voice said. We both jumped at the sound and spun around to find Dad towering a whole six foot over us, while we were crouching on the ground. He was holding just the one butcher knife in his blood stained hand. Her and I noticed this and stood up slowly. We backed away a few steps, just out of his reach.
“So you discovered the dogs did you?” he said, glancing at the lifeless bodies of Misha and Benny, smiling. Her and I did not say a word.
“They were useless dogs anyway, never liked them. They never did anything properly,” he continued with a smirk.
“You bastard!” I screamed and lunged at him. She grabbed me just in time.
I could feel the angry rising up within me. He had murdered them, for no reason. He was cruel, cold and heartless. My hands clenched and the rest of my body was tense. I stole a sideways look at her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him. She was keeping her eyes on the knife; ready for anything but at the same time was making sure I didn’t do anything stupid.
“You two look tense, what’s the matter?” he said calmly with a huge grin across his face. Again, we said nothing. I shifted my weight from one leg to the other. I had to be ready for any sudden attacks; I did not know what was going to happen. He took a step forward; we took a step back.
“Hey Comon, I won’t bite,” he said with a fake hurt on his face.
“Yes well, usually I might believe you but you seem to be holding a rather large butcher’s knife with blood stains on it in your hand, in case you hadn’t noticed,” I replied.
He looked down at the knife, turned it to the side, observing it, as if he was thinking about what he was going to do with it next.
“You killed Misha and Benny!” She exclaimed with anger in her voice.
“Yes, but I already explained that,” he replied.
The grin on his face had faded. Again, I glanced at her. Her eyes darted back and forth. Finally, she met my gaze and we came to an agreement. We both got ready for it.
“So what are you two …”
He didn’t get to finish his sentence. Her and I spun around and ran.
“Hey where are you going?” he yelled.
We kept running. She was in front of me. I didn’t know where I was running to, all I knew was that I had to get as far away from him as I could. I could hear his slow but deliberate footsteps following us. I panicked.
“Hey wait, let’s go this way,” I yelled at her and ran past her into the garage. She followed me.
“We have to get out of here and fast!” I exclaimed. I knew he wouldn’t be far behind.
“Comon we’ll take the Ute,” she replied.
I jumped into the driver’s side of my car, a little done-up Toyota Hilux, flipped the sun-visor down, put the keys in the ignition and started the engine. At least the p-plates are still on.
“Go, go, go.” She yelled. Without thinking, I hit the accelerator, put the car into gear and reversed right out the gate, almost hitting the neighbouring fence. I put the Ute into first and turned around. He was just standing, smiling at the gate, as if he were farewelling us after a visit. This is getting freaky, I’m out of here I thought. I took off down the road, revving the engine too much before I thought of second then third gear. She sat beside me and started to cry.
“Hey don’t worry its going to be ok, we’re going to be ok,” I said to reassure her and partially myself. The car started to slow, I put my foot down, and it made no difference. Oh no.
“What are you doing?” she asked nervously.
“Nothing. The car is slowing down, it won’t go,” I replied.
I looked at the fuel gauge. Empty. That would be right. Right when I needed a full tank of petrol it goes kaput!
“What’s happening?” she asked again, beginning to panic.
“We have run out of fuel,” I replied. I guided the car off the road and stopped it under a tree. I looked back; we were only a couple of hundred metres from the house. I could see a dark figure through the trees. It was moving towards us. It was him. He had known all along that we would stop close to home that’s why he was smiling when we left. He knew we would be stranded. I got out of the car and looked around. There was nothing we could use to defend ourselves with or escape with. I looked at her. She was still sitting in the car staring out the window into the distance. She hadn’t even noticed he was moving steadily towards us.
“Hey Comon get out of the car,” I said.
“Why? What’s wrong?” she asked.
“For one, the car is broken down so there is no point staying in there and two, well he’s coming.”
“What?” she exclaimed and jumped out of the car. She ran to where I was and looked down the road.
“Oh God, what do we do?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
He was coming around the bend behind us, holding as usual his big, gleaming butcher knife.
“Ok lets just go this way,” I said pointing down the road where we would have been heading if the car hadn’t stopped.
“But he’s following us, what can we do? We have to tell someone, we have to get help,” she exclaimed frantically. She was standing there, frozen to the spot. I ran over to her and pulled her. She stumbled towards me.
“Comon lets just go this way. We will find something or someone, I don’t know what but we’ll get help ok?” I said trying to calm her.
“Yeah…ok,” she muttered.
She still couldn’t believe what was happening, neither could I.
The sun was heating up as we stumbled along the road. At least I can see, I thought. But what if we didn’t find help before it got dark? Then we would have a problem, although that was several hours away. I looked back. He was still walking steadily along the road. Always persistent, always looking towards us. She was sobbing as she followed me. I wouldn’t dare break into a run, then he would pick up the pace too and wouldn’t stop until he had caught up even if we slowed down.
“Comon don’t stop, you got to keep walking,” I said to her.
“We can’t keep going like this!” she exclaimed.
“We have to stop and do something. Do you have you phone with you?
“Oh my God, yes! I do! I can’t believe I didn’t remember,” I replied.
“Geez, you could have told me, you could have checked,” she said loudly.
“Ok, settle down. You don’t want him knowing I have it. At the rate you’re going everyone within a kilometre would have heard that!”
“Sorry.”
“Well who should I ring?”
“Uh… the police?”
“Yeah, but what if they don’t pick up or don’t believe me?”
“Uh… the fire brigade. I have no idea.”
“We have to get someone to pick us up.”
“Yeah, well you could ring Shawn, he’d come get us.”
“No way. He’s mates with Dad as well. He’d pick him up first and then leave us … or worse.”
“Good point.”
“Well who then?”
“Look just ring the police and see what happens. Hurry up about it, he is catching up.”
“Yeah, we’re walking slower.”
“Just dial 000.”
Beep Beep … Beep Beep
“It’s ringing.”
“And?”
“Oh no, you’ve got to select who you want and why. This is going to take forever!”
“Can’t you make it go any faster?”
“It’s the friggin police!”
“Settle down!”
“Sorry.”
“Hello? Hello?”
“Hello. How may … Beep Beep.”
“Oh what?” I exclaimed.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Oh shit the battery has gone dead.”
“What? What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know, don’t yell at me!”
I looked behind me. Dad was less than two hundred metres away and making up ground with his long-striding gait. I’ve got to think of a way to get away from him or at least stop him somehow. Ok, what have I got I thought. I looked around. Ok, lots of trees, animals, bikes, horses and oh! Motorbikes! I could grab a couple of motorbikes and take off! That would be perfect, just have to check the fuel I thought with a slight smile. Then my conscious came into play. Oh but then, I would have to steal the bikes and that could be easier said than done. It would also waste time and give him the opportunity to catch up. If he got a bike also then we could be in serious trouble, even more so than now. Ahh, what to do, what to do? I looked at her. She was looking at me expectantly. I turned away and kept walking. I suddenly realised, we were near the main road.
“Comon, keep up, we’re almost at the main road,” I said.
“What are we going to do then?” she asked.
“Get a ride hopefully.”
“Yeah right,” she replied sarcastically.
We continued walking but never forgot about why we were. Her and I never forgot about what was behind us. I could see the cars going past on the main road. If we got there, we could get away from him. I couldn’t refer to him as Dad anymore, I didn’t know him. Although I wasn’t sure if he’d kill us, I knew he wasn’t carrying that knife for nothing.
· · · · · · · ·
“Hey brad, you better go pick your sister up soon. It’s nearly 3pm.”
“Yeah ok mum. I’ll go in a minute. I just have to finish fixing the car. It’s not starting up properly,” Brad yelled back from the garage.
“No go now. You can fix it when you get back, you don’t want to be late again,” she replied.
“Alright. Fine.”
“Bye.”
Brad hopped into his green commodore, backed out of the garage, out the gate and took off. As he was driving out of the suburbs and into the more rural part of the area, he noticed two figures stumbling along an adjoining road. They were waving frantically as he approached. It looked like they were distressed and needed help. Brad looked at them curiously and decided to pull over. He indicated and turned to the side of the road. The two figures were in fact female. As he pulled over, they came racing towards him. He wound down the window. The first one looked about sixteen or seventeen, blonde and around 5”5. The one behind her looked a bit older, probably early twenties with light brown hair and similar height. There was a close relation between the two.
“Hey I’m Brad, what seems to be the matter?” Brad asked them, half sounding like an interrogating police officer.
“Hi, my name is Dillan and this is Chelsea my cousin. We are in a lot of trouble. Can you help us?” replied the blonde hurriedly.
“What sort of trouble?” Brad asked more seriously.
“Well you see … um … I know this is going to sound crazy but my father has hit me, killed our two dogs and has been following us with a huge knife for the last half hour or so.”
Brad just looked at them in disbelief. What on earth is going on he thought.
“So you see we don’t know what to do and we could use a lift to the police station or something,” Dillan continued.
“You seriously think I am going to believe that. Can’t you make up anything better than that?” Brad replied.
“It’s the truth I swear! I’ll prove it!” she answered.
Dillan wiped all the makeup off her face to reveal the huge sore bruise on her cheek. Brad’s eyes widened and he gasped.
“Oh my God. What happened?”
“Like I said, he hit me,” she replied with tears in her eyes.
“And the whole dog and knife story?”
“It’s as real as this bruise. Can you help us or not. Please.”
“Yeah alright jump in.”
· · · · · · · ·
Brad reached over and opened the door for Chelsea and I. As I turned to look at him, I noticed he was staring out the window. I glanced in his direction and saw it. A tall man, with dark brown hair, in his fifties with sharp features and a lean body. It was him. As he got closer, we could see the blood stains on his hands. Poor Brad, I felt bad getting him involved in my problem.
“Comon, don’t just sit there and stare. Let’s go before he gets here,” she said.
“I think it’s a bit late for that.” I replied.
She turned around as well. As soon as she saw, what was coming her eyes widened and she panicked.
“Quick, Comon lets go.” She screamed.
“I don’t know… maybe if we try talking to him we could …”
“No way! Let’s go!” she replied.
“Brad please …”
“Ok we’ll go.”
Brad turned the key in the igniti0n. Nothing. He tried again. Nothing.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Oh no the car must be playing up again,” he replied.
“What!” she yelled.
“Hold on it might start now… It’s not going!”
“Oh shit! He’s getting closer!”
“What are we going to do?”
“Start the car, start the car!” I yelled.
“I’m trying, I'm trying. It’s not starting!” he replied.
“Yeah we can see that” she said.
“It was working fine this afternoon” Brad exclaimed.
“What is wrong with it? Cant you just make it go?” she asked.
“I’m trying, I really am,” he answered desperately.
All of a sudden, the car roared to life. Unfortunately, Dad was only metres away, a few more strides and he could reach us.
“OK lets go,” Brad, yelled.
Screeeech! Dad had reached the car, stuck the knife in the side, and slashed a huge chunk out of the side of the car.
“Oh my god! He’s right there!” I screamed.
Brad put his foot down and took off just as Dad was about to smash the windows. I saw his hand go up, just as it had the night before, and come down just as quickly although this time he missed his target.
“Ha ha! Take that you bastard!” I yelled back at him.
“Dillan! You are just going to make it worse. Don’t cause us anymore trouble,” Chelsea scolded at me.
“He can’t get us anymore, we have nothing to worry about!”
“Well what if he finds us? What if he gets us?”
“He won’t! Don’t you understand? We are going to go to the cops and sort this whole thing out. Then, if it’s possible, we are going to help him. If it’s some sort of problem that can be fixed. Otherwise I don’t know what will happen to him.”
“Well there has got to be a reason behind his behaviour, whether it be psychological or something else.”
“Excuse me. You think that you two are going to be able t0 help him?” Brad interrupted.
“Well, yeah, we have to. He’s my father and her uncle. He’s family,” I answered.
“But what if he has some strange psychotic problem that you can’t just glue back together. I mean look what he has done. He’s abused you, killed your dogs and has followed you for a few kilometres with a huge knife which I’m sure he didn’t intend to do so he could show you how shiny it was.”
“We have to try,” Chelsea rebutted.
“Alright, ok. Lets just get you two to the police station and we’ll sort something out,” Brad said reasonably.
· · · · · · · ·
As they drove towards the police station in the centre of the town, Brad suddenly remembered.
“Oh no, I forgot to pick my sister up from school!”
“Well we can go get her now,” I said.
“It will take another 30 minutes to get there now,” he exclaimed.
“We’ll we can wait. There’s no rush. We are pretty much safe now,” I replied.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll get someone else to get her,” he said as he reached for his phone. He dialled home and waited for an answer.
“Hello?”
“Hi mum”
“Oh Brad where are you? I thought you would be home by now and I need you to help me fix my car and…”
“Mum, I’m sort of busy. I have to take two girls to the police. I will explain it all later but someone needs to pick up Lillian. Don’t worry no one is hurt.”
“Oh what happened? Of course, I will get her. I’ll come straight down to the station.”
“No, no. It should not take that long. I will be home soon. Don’t worry.”
“You sure?”
“Yes mum.”
“Oh ok, well I’ll go get her right now. Be careful.”
“Alright bye mum.”
“Bye honey.”
“Your mum sounds really nice,” Chelsea said after Brad had hung up.
“Yeah, she great,” he replied proudly.
“So are you just going to drop us off at the station and then leave?” I asked.
“Well I shouldn’t stay to long. If you two have to be there for a while I can go home then come back if you like,” he offered.
“That would be nice,” Chelsea replied quickly.
“Well it’s not necessary, but if you like then…” I added.
“Of course, I’m sort of involved now so I guess I help you two out if I can.”
“You have done enough already. Taking a chance on us, that was great. I think if you hadn’t shown up then we might not have been as lucky,” I said sincerely.
“That’s ok. Glad I could help,” he replied, looking pleased with himself that he made such an impression.
“Yeah, we will have to find some way to repay you,” Chelsea added.
“Oh no that’s fine. Like I said, just happy I could help.”
They continued on their way to the police. Each one silent, thinking privately to themselves about the situation and how it could have turned out a lot different. As I gazed out the window, I saw kids playing in the street. Only young kids, probably ten or eleven. I realised how innocent and vulnerable they were, just as I was, barely 24 hours ago. I glanced at Brad who was sitting quietly in the drivers seat to the right of me. He only looked about 18 I noticed and was actually quite good looking. That’s great Dillan, you escape what was a life threatening situation and all you are thinking about is how cute the supposed hero is, yeah good one. He caught me looking at him and I pretended to notice something out his window, and then causally turned to look out my own.
As I drove on my mother’s voice echoed in my head. Be careful she said. Well no less than an hour ago I wasn’t being careful, I was being risky and if those two girls hadn’t been in so much trouble I would have been home by now. But then again, if they had been in trouble and I hadn’t listened then they might not have been alive now. Now I think of it, I am actually glad that I stopped. It will be one of those things that I will remember for the rest of my life. Although it could have turned out very different. All of a sudden, I noticed Dillan looking at me. When she saw me, she pretended that she was looking out the window but I knew she wasn’t. She seemed to be a very independent person but at the same time she wasn’t arrogant or loud, she actually seemed alright. She had an aspect about her that seemed to draw me in. With her blonde hair and deep blue eyes, she was really quite … beautiful. Here you go again Brad, always checking out the girls and not even worrying about the situation. Nice move Einstein.
As I watched Brad and Dillan they seemed to be thinking not of the situation we had gotten ourselves in, but more about each other than anything else. Dillan kept glancing at Brad, and Brad, well, you can just tell when I guy is thinking about the girl next to him. Lets just say he wasn’t concentrating as much on driving as he would be without us both in the car, but that was to be expected I guess. I could sense a spark between them, chemistry, almost like a bond. Dillan glanced at Brad. Brad saw her and turned to look. She pretended she was looking out the window. We all knew she wasn’t. I smile emerged from what had otherwise been a look of worry and despair. Maybe we would be alright, I thought. We were far enough away from my crazed uncle now that we don’t have to worry as much. He wasn’t one hundred metres behind us with a knife. Now he was merely a speck in the distance, barely visible and hopefully we would never see him that close, like that, ever again. Wishful thinking Chelsea, wishful thinking.
“So uh, tell us about your family Brad. You know about ours already. What’s your’s like?” Dillan asked casually.
“Well, my mum is in a psychiatric ward, Dad is in hospital and my sister is close to going to juvenile, well, little people’s jail,” he replied seriously.
Chelsea and I just stared at him; mouths wide open, not believing a word of what he had just said.
“I’m kidding. Sorry. My family is great. Dad is a tradesman, mum works at a bank and my sister just started year 8 at high school,” he assured us with a smile.
“That was not funny,” Chelsea shot back.
“Sort of seems that you were making fun of our situation,” I added angrily.
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean for it to come across that way,” he replied reassuringly.
“That’s ok. I’m sure you didn’t mean it,” I replied.
“So how much further to the police? I just really want to get there,” Chelsea asked.
“Uh, probable another 10 minutes more or less,” he answered.
“Ok well we have to get our story right. What are we going to tell them?”
“We tell them the truth, every little detail,” I exclaimed.
“And what about Brad? Well I guess we will have to tell them how he saved us ay?”
“That’s right Chelsea,” I nodded. I knew she was mucking around. I guessed she was just going over it in her head and wanted some reassurance from me, even though she was the older, more mature one. I guess we all needed to be reminded.
· · · · · · · ·
“So where do you last see him?”
“Near the corner of … road. He was still following us and tried to attack us with a knife but got Brad’s car instead,” I replied.
“Alright well we will send someone out to look for him.”
“Well maybe you should send 2 or 3 officers, he does have a knife, well he did last time we saw him,” Chelsea added frightfully. Talking about the incident had bought up her fear and distress again so she was still quite edgy.
“Ok miss, well we will send a couple of guys out to look for him and see what we find.”
“Ok thanks officer,” I said. He walked away to organise the search.
“Well what happens now?” Brad asked. He was still with us.
“I guess we wait. What else can we do?” I replied.
“I’m sort of hungry though. Can we go get some maccas?” he asked nicely with a smile on his face.
“Yeah I guess so. It’s only just down the road isn’t it?”
“Yep. Do you want to come or …?”
“Yeah we will all go. I’ll go tell them where we are going and then we can head off.”
“Ok, well I grab Chelsea, she’s outside.”
“Alright, ill meet you at the car.”
“Chelsea, Chelsea?” Brad called. There was a silence. Like the silence that happened just before they came face to face with Dillan’s dad. Brad didn’t know this.
“Chelsea?” he yelled again. Something was wrong but who couldn’t tell what.
“Brad? What are you doing?” Chelsea asked as she came round the corner of the station.
“What are you doing? Dillan and I are going to get some food, well maccas. Do you want to come?”
“Yeah sure. I’m starving and I could use some food,” she replied quietly.
“Alright lets go then,” he replied, turning to walk towards the car.
“Hold on. There’s something I should tell you first,” she said, with a flicker of mischief in her eyes.
“What’s that?” he asked as he turned around.
“My cousin likes you. I can tell.”
“Yeah? Well I sort of like your cousin too.”
“Oh is that right?”
“Uh, I guess. Yeah that is right.”
“So is it fair enough to say that you would do anything for her?”
“Maybe not anything, but most things, yeah I guess so. Why?”
“No reason. I just wanted to know where you two stood. How you felt about her and how she felt about you. That’s all.”
“Well how does she feel about me?”
“About the same as you feel about her, more or less.”
“Well how do you know…” he was stopped mid-sentence.
“Hey Chelsea, Brad, you ready?”
“Yeah we are coming,” Chelsea replied cheerfully.
“Alright I’ll go get the car,” she called out and walked away.
“Oh by the way Brad.”
Brad turned to look at Chelsea. Hey this chick was alright before but now she’s getting a little strange.
“If you do anything to hurt her in anyway, I’ll come after you. Just like uncle Doyle did today. You know he had every right to try and attack her. He was never after me; you see he didn’t really kill the dogs. I did.”
“What? You can’t be serious. You both said that he did it! Why would you lie? Why would you do it? You didn’t really, did you?”
“I’m sorry to say Brad but I did.”
“And the bruise? What else did you do?”
“No the bruise was him. I was the one who emptied the petrol out of the car, I was the one who made sure the phone battery was dead, I was the one who killed the dogs and I was the one who set it all up.”
“But why? What did she ever do to you?”
“You see I was getting tired of her thinking she was living in a dream world. And I was sick of living with them, knowing that they had a happy little family while mine were split in two wandering the world without me. So I decided that I’d make her world come crashing down, so she knew how it felt. She was always saying to me ‘oh it’s ok they will come back soon, they still love you’. But the truth was, they weren’t coming back and they never intended to. Oh, but her father Doyle, well he was going off the rails even before I thought of my little scheme. So that worked out quite well. So really all I had to do was look distressed, cry a little and there we go, instant emotions, they didn’t have to be real, I only had to act as if they were.” Chelsea said with an evil grin on her face. It was a look of complete self-satisfaction.
“That’s awful. How could you do that? To your own cousin? Your family?”
“Well a few months ago my dear uncle Doyle was diagnosed as a schizophrenic. No one but me knew this and I never told a soul. So it was really quite easy to get him to chase after us with a knife and make him look like he was possessed when really it wasn’t even his fault. He was just doing what I said and not asking questions. Dillan still doesn’t know to this day and she never will. She will go through her life wondering why her dad turned on her and in a way abandoned her just like mine did.”
“So all this is about revenge and how you never had a real relationship with your family, your dad.”
“Exactly, why should she not have to suffer as I did? Why should she have all the joys of life that I never ever had?”
“You still have a family. You still have a father. Why reck her relationship with her own? It’s not right. You must understand this somehow.”
“I do, but that doesn’t change anything. It will be a wake up call for her and now that her dad is going to be put away either in jail or a mental institution I will be the one looking after her. And she’ll never know the real reason why.”
“She’ll find out one day. It will come out sooner or later,” Brad exclaimed, backing away from what clearly was a psychotic young woman.
“No she never will. You are never going to speak a word of this to anyone,” Chelsea replied edging closer to him.
“You can’t stop me. I’ll tell her and then you will both be locked up,” he said defiantly.
“You know your starting to sound like her. I don’t like it. Oh by the way, she really does like you. You two had a bond.”
“What do you mean had?’ he asked angrily. All of a sudden Doyle walked out from behind the building with a shotgun in his hand. It was aimed directly at Brad. One shot and he’d be dead.
“Well have, had, it’s all the same really,” Chelsea exclaimed with a laugh.
“Comon, Chelsea you’re not a killer. Tell him to put the gun down and I'm sure we can work something out,” he replied anxiously.
“No, no, you forgot I am a killer. Remember the dog story? Well that’s still true.”
“Comon Chelsea, you don’t have to do this.”
“Get ready uncle Doyle, this guy knows too much. Oh but wait that’s my fault,” she laughed. Doyle tightened his grip on the gun and got ready to shot. One hit, that’s it.
“Please Chelsea. Everyone will hear. Please don’t. There has to be a better way,” he pleaded.
“Good bye Brad. Oh and uh, thanks for the lift.”
“Chelsea! Doyle! Please…”
Bang!
“Nice work uncle,” Chelsea muttered as Brad’s lifeless body fell to the ground.
“Can we go now?” Doyle asked Chelsea, unsure of what was really going on.
“Yeah lets go. We’re on a role,” she laughed. As Doyle walked away Chelsea stopped to gaze over Brad. So young, so innocent really. Wish it didn’t have to come to this she thought. But I did tell him what happened so really he was going to have to kill him anyway. Oh well. Chelsea walked away from the scene satisfied for once in her life that she was now the one person she had to count on and that no one could tell her otherwise.
**** THE END ****
I REALLY NEED YOU OPINION, GOOD BAD OR UGLY... TELL ME WHAT U THINK...
