The Haunting Within (20 page)

61

Debbie wanted to be away from her children - how dare they speak to her like that?! The ungrateful little bastards - so she wandered upstairs to her old bedroom. She timidly opened the door, not sure what to expect. It was just as she remembered it! Her bed, the pictures of horses on the walls, her toy box, everything! She didn’t see the peeling wallpaper or the thick layer of dust that covered everything, she saw what she wanted to see, and that was her childhood bedroom, nicely decorated in pink flowery paper, a pale pink excellent quality long pile carpet, with the most beautiful “princess bed” she had ever seen. The bed was her favourite part of the room. It had a large white metal headboard and was covered in soft pink sheets and so many pillows that she had to take some off the bed in order to fit in it at bed times. Removing the cushions so she could slide between the sheets Debbie saw a cushion that she remembered her mother had made her. She had hand-sewn Debbie’s name and date of birth onto it. Clutching it Debbie settled back.

Debbie loved her bed times. Her mother would sit on her bed next to her and read her a story, her favourite being Cinderella She especially loved the part where Cinderella got away from her evil step-mother, and then her mother would sit with her until she fell asleep. Debbie remembered she would try her hardest to stay awake for as long as she could so her mother would spend more time with her. She didn’t get to see her much during the day because she had a private tutor who would arrive at the house at nine o’clock every weekday morning and stay until three o’clock every afternoon. Debbie was always up at seven every morning so that she could spend some time with her mother before her tutor, Mr. Spencer arrived. Her mother would get up every day at the crack of dawn so she could make breakfast for Debbie’s father and see him off to work. Debbie would have gotten up even earlier to see more of her mother, but she always waited until her father had left for work before getting up. Her mother would leave her chores when Debbie was up and spend time with her cooking breakfast for them both and playing until Debbie’s tutor arrived, then she would continue with the daily chores, because although they had a housekeeper, her mother always helped with the running of the house. When Mr. Spencer left Debbie would spend around another two hours with her mother until her father came home, then there was no playing or disturbing him. Her mother didn’t have time to play when
he
came home anyway. She had to run around after him making his dinner and running him a bath and doing whatever else he ordered her to do. She never complained. She just got on and did what he said, always with a smile for him. Debbie respected her mother so much. Even though he used to beat her whenever he felt like it she was a very strong person, she had to have been to put up with the way he treated her. Debbie admired her so much. When she had been at low points, like when John had left her, she thought about her mother and got her strength to go on from the knowledge that if her she could put up with what she did, then Debbie could certainly cope without John. No matter how bad she felt she always remembered that her mother was far worse off than Debbie.

Debbie broke away from her thoughts and crawled to the end of her bed and opened the toy-box at the foot. The first thing she came across was her old Cabbage Patch doll.

“There you are Molly! I haven’t seen you in so long I thought I had lost you! I’m so glad I’ve found you! I will never let you out of my sight again. I promise!” Debbie didn’t see the doll as it was with a split seam down her arm, her dress frayed at the bottom and faded at the back. Nor did she notice the eye hanging from its thread. Debbie saw the doll as it had been the day she had gotten it. It was her seventh birthday and her parents had given it to her as one of her gifts. As far as Debbie could remember, it was the only gift that her father didn’t take away from her the very next day and destroy. She had treasured Molly ever since.

Debbie closed the toy-box now, not interested in anything else it had to offer. She had found her beloved Molly, what could there possibly be in there that would interest her now? She lay back on her bed and tried to block out the bad feelings. She didn’t know who it was that was telling her to do bad things, she’d never heard of him. He said his name was David and her father had hurt him. She told him there was nothing she could do for him, but that she knew how he felt, he had hurt her too. He wouldn’t leave her alone. She tried to ask him to leave her and let her have a sleep and she thought it had worked, that he had left her, but it was not so. When she fell asleep she found he had followed her into her dreams.

62

Downstairs Lisa and Aiden were trying to think of what to do. They needed to leave
today
, but they couldn’t go anywhere without their mum.

“This place is really getting to her. We need to leave as soon as we can.” Aiden informed Lisa on what she already knew.

They sat there thinking of how to get their mum to listen to them and came up with nothing. They didn’t have a clue on what to do. They understood that the house and her father had more of a hold on her than they could ever compete with. She was scared to leave the house, saying her father wouldn’t let her go, but it was something else as well. She was a grown woman and she could surely be able to pull herself together and realise that he had no hold over her, but it was like she didn’t want to leave for some reason. She had completely changed in herself since they had come here. She was showing anger towards them, something she had never done before. She was behaving like a child, talking in a pathetic sounding voice like they had never heard her do before. Worst of all she was harming herself and she was adamant that it was her father who had done it when they had both witnessed very clearly that it was her. Something was very wrong and they could feel it. The worst thing about it was that they didn’t know what it was that was wrong with her; they just knew it would get a whole lot worse the longer they stayed there.

“I wonder what she’s doing anyway.”

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know to be honest. I’ve had just about as much as I can take from her. She gets me so mad! Why can’t she just see what she’s doing to herself? To us?” Aiden looked at his sister and she seemed so tired and sad. He understood how she felt, he felt exactly the same. He didn’t think any less of her for not wanting to go see what their mum was doing. He didn’t think either of them could handle seeing her beating herself up again. He felt useless. He was the man of this family. He should be protecting them and looking after them, but he couldn’t. He simply didn’t know what to do.

What kind of a father and husband would he be if he couldn’t even protect his own mum and sister? A terrible one. That was the answer to that question. He wanted to have a normal life. He did have a normal life before they came here. He had a part-time job in a factory packing frozen peas which he found boring but the money was good and he had made some good friends there. He didn’t want to work there forever though, he was at college and he loved it there, he had a steady, long-term girlfriend, Lucy, whom he adored. Everything was going well for him. His life was going in the right direction. He was happy. Very happy with Lucy, actually. They had been an item since the first week of college. She wasn’t in his class, but he had met her through a friend he had made on his course called Will. Will had a girlfriend called Stacy and Stacy and Lucy were best friends. He had been hanging around in the college’s cafeteria when Stacy had come over with Lucy to see Will. Aiden was completely smitten by her straight away, and she him. They had started talking and found they had a lot in common. After four days they became an item. That was just over a year ago. Aiden had never been in love before, but he knew he was in love with Lucy. He was planning to propose to her on her eighteenth birthday in three months’ time. He had it all planned out. He would take her out for a slap up meal at a fancy restaurant, then they would go back to the hotel that he was going to book for them and he would propose there. Down on one knee, roses, wine - by that time he too would be eighteen and old enough to drink - the whole works. He got excited just thinking of it. He was sure she would say yes. They knew each other better than they knew themselves. He hadn’t told his mum or Lisa about it yet. He would, soon. In fact he thought he may as well tell Lisa now. At least it would take her mind off things. Hopefully. Lisa and Lucy got on like a house on fire, as did Lucy and his mum. He was so grateful for that. Most of the time girlfriends didn’t get on with their mother-in-laws and vice-versa, but luckily not in his case. They had hit it off straight away.

“Guess what?!” Aiden said to Lisa with a daft looking smile on his face.

“What?” asked Lisa in a less-than-enthusiastic sounding voice.

“I’m gonna ask Lucy to marry me! On her eighteenth! What do you think?” he asked with a sheepish look. He watched Lisa face contentedly as a huge smile spread over it making her look extremely pretty.

“Oh my God Aiden! That’s great! Oh, I’m so happy for you!” She got up from the settee and went over to give her baby brother a hug.

“Don’t be happy for me yet. She might say no!” he said chuckling.

“As if she would! She’s absolutely crazy about you, you know that!” Lisa replied laughing. He did know that, he just wanted reassuring. “I can’t believe it! Have you told mum yet?”

“No. Not yet. I will though, just as soon as we get out of here and she’s back to normal.”             

Both wanting a drink, they walked to the kitchen, all the while talking about how Aiden planned to propose. They contemplated finding their mother and asking if she wanted any, but decided to leave her alone. It was obvious to them that she wanted to be on her own for a while so they left her to it. Besides, they were both still frustrated with her and if she was still angry then it would be a row waiting to happen.

63

In her dream, Debbie was a little girl again. She was innocent and sweet, dressed in a yellow dress with white frilly ankle socks inside her pristine shiny white shoes. Her mother had picked the dress for her. It was her favourite item of clothing because it was her mother’s favourite on Debbie. She had a yellow ribbon tied around her long ponytail that hung halfway down her back and swung from side to side as she walked. She was playing in the garden with Molly, pretending to drink tea when she heard a noise behind her. She spun around to look, her hair swinging in slow motion and resting on her right shoulder. It was
that man
again. The man she had been trying to escape from when she had fallen asleep. He was the man who shared the cupboard under the stairs with her. The man who used to speak to her all the time, even though she didn’t want him to. He frightened her.

“Hello, Deborah.” The man leaned in towards her as he spoke. He smiled at her, but she knew it was not a nice smile.

“I don’t want to talk to you! Go away!” Debbie turned defiantly on her heels hoping he would leave her alone, but knowing that he wouldn’t, he never did.

“Deborah, that’s not very polite, is it? I thought you were a nice little girl Deborah” he rasped at her in his gruff unforgiving voice. He always sounded so full of hate and malice. He almost spat his words at her.

“I am a nice little girl. I just don’t want to talk to you.”

“Your Father doesn’t think you’re a nice little girl though does he? He thinks you are very naughty, doesn’t he Deborah?”

“I’m not though! I mean, I try not to be. I try to make him happy. I always do as he asks and I never answer him back.” Tears started to sting Debbie’s eyes.

“I know you’re not a naughty girl, Deborah. Your Father is a very bad man though!”

“No, he isn’t! My Father just wants me to grow up with manners and respect. Now please, go away! I don’t want to talk to you anymore!”

“But I want to talk to you, Deborah. I need you to be the good little girl that we both know you are and do something for me.”

Debbie recognised the look in his eyes, her Father always looked like that when he was punishing her, but she didn’t know what the look represented. The nasty glint in the bald man’s eyes was a look of pure unadulterated evil.

“I don’t want to help you! Get someone else to do it!” Debbie started running back towards the house, but just as in all nightmares, the same cruel thing happens; you try to run away as fast as you can but you don’t get anywhere. The house she was trying to run to was retreating further back with every step she took, like it was running away from her, like it didn’t want to save her from this awful man, didn’t want to let her in so she could shut the door behind her and shut out the evil that lurked behind the man’s eyes. She began screaming for her mother, but her mother didn’t come. She turned to face the insane man in the straitjacket, clutching Molly tightly in both her hands, praying that she would wake up. He smiled at her, that horrible, wicked smile of his.

“You will help me, Deborah, you have no choice!” Then came a chilling laugh from inside his slightly parted, slick wet lips.

64

Debbie woke from her dream sweaty and afraid. It took her a while to register where she was. The dream had put everything into perspective for her and she knew with perfect clarity what she had to do to be free of him for the first time in her life. She would save herself and her children from anymore heart-ache caused by that evil man she had called “father” all her life. Before going downstairs where she could do what she had to do and be rid of him for good, she first went to the secret room that Lisa had found the day before. Pulling out the box containing the reel of film Lisa had watched (she knew where to look because she had seen her Father remove it and put it back numerous times, but she was never permitted to watch it), she went through the door that joined the study and fit the reel to the machine. She settled down to watch it; only she wasn’t seeing what Lisa had seen on the reel, her little brother or her mother cooing over him, she was seeing something completely different and chilling.

The screen came to life and was filled with an empty chair, the same chair that was in this room, that Debbie was now sat on, only in better condition. As the reel ran a man walked into the camera’s range of vision. He walked with a sense of purpose and it seemed to Debbie that he would demand attention if he always walked like that, and he did. Debbie shivered as he turned to face the camera. It was her Father. He looked much younger than he did now, she thought. This was how she remembered him from when she was a child, a very intimidating figure. He had a very distinct jaw-line and sharp features. His eyes were boring into her through the screen and she felt extremely uncomfortable. He had such a strong presence that even on the screen he frightened her. He had on a suit that looked very well cared for and his dark hair which was grey now, was neatly combed back on his head. He had a strong, broad build which he still had in old age, yet he seemed oddly depleted, shrunken, almost. He began to talk in a thick accent relevant to his upbringing that he never lost all the years of his life. Most people lost their accents after living away for a few years, yet he kept his even though he hadn’t returned to his home town for decades. It wasn’t just a slight hint of one either, it was like he had lived there all his life, like it was imprinted into his genes. His voice, very deep boomed out of the screen causing her to jump.             

“I am sitting here today to speak about something that is very much bothering me. I would like to get it off my chest, yet I cannot tell a soul.” He was very articulate, pronunciation was very important to him. “I have been a psychiatrist now for a number of years and a very competent one at that, I think and so do many other respected professionals. So it bothers me that something is happening to me that is beyond my control. I have started to get urges to do things, horrible things, and no matter how I try I cannot quench the yearning until I have carried out these dreadful acts.” 

He paused looking wistfully at the camera with a strange sadness in his pale, watery eyes. Debbie actually started to feel sorry for him, but she soon pushed that out of her mind when she thought of how he had treated her and her mother.

“In all my life I have never harmed one living creature and I have never intended to, yet lately I have been terrible to my beloved wife. All I have ever wanted to do was to protect her from any harm she may encounter and for all of our married lives I have been fulfilling this, up until recently that is. It started with me losing my temper with her over such small insignificant things. I have never had a bad temper. It seems to only be when I am in this house that I get angry with her. When I am away from this house for whatever reason, be it meetings or just to take my darling wife out somewhere nice, I feel at peace within myself like I never do when I am here. It all starts again almost the very second I step through the front doors. I enjoy the serenity I feel when I am out of the house, yet I cannot wait to return here for a reason that I myself do not know.” Debbie was surprised to see a tear roll down her Fathers cheek. He made no attempt to brush it away and she felt embarrassed for him.

“I have been in emotional turmoil about this. For the first time ever last week I raised my hand to wife and, I am so ashamed to admit this, but I struck her with all of my force. My beautiful Emily whom I have loved with all of my being since the first day I met her and I have gone and done the worst thing to her and laid my hand on her lovely face. I do not know why I did it which makes it even worse because there was no reason for it, but I struck my darling, my Emily. I felt physically sick afterwards, yet that did not stop me from striking her again last night. I do not know what is happening to me. Emily has begged me to go and see my doctor, but how could I possibly tell him what I have done to her? I cannot go to him and I will not! I just do not know what I am going to do.”

With that her father began to sob as he rose from the chair and disappeared from the view.

The screen went black then almost immediately came to life again. He was sat in the same chair again with blackness behind his eyes. “I do not know what I am to do with my daughter. She is, for want of a better word, a little brat. Her mother spoils her. She gets anything she could want and yet she is still an awful child. I feel nothing for her. Emily is testing my patience to the extreme by standing up for Deborah when she needs punishing. She thinks I am too hard on the girl. Children need punishing. They need to learn right from wrong and by God I am damned if a child of mine will grow up to have no respect for people! Emily needs to either understand this or stay out of my way.”