Behind These Walls Read online

  Her death was truly deserving as in reality she was a horrid woman whom had cursed the world for taking her love during the war, I was but a mere child who at the time was given a choice to choose, which turned into a secret which for the first time I am willing to share.”I spoke in soft words tempting her attention upon a wave of soft calming words that enticed her further into my gaze as I continued...

  “I was but an eight year old tearaway who broke most of the rules...but this day I broke the oldest rule of them all...I took a life...an old life but still a life. I was walking past old Hackett’s house nearly everyday and I could feel those cold hard eyes upon the hairs on my neck every time I past that god-damn house of hers. Her cats sitting a row of three, all dark and their eerie eyes peering out at all the passers by that ventured past old Hackett’s house.

  Three black cats sitting on the faded grass of Hackett’s lawn staring with their devious eyes bore a hole into my own as I sat on my old beat up bike staring at that trio of terror. There was something quite unnerving about those three cats and especially those cold eyes...such cold eyes staring never blinking but always watching.

  It was a cold Saturday morning, and I was doing my paper round and had almost completed my round bar one house...I looked at the list of addresses that were on my round....oh no...anything but that place...it said in thick black pen old Hackett’s place. I took a big gulp and began to pedal towards her address. After awhile me and my bike had arrived at the eerie house and there upon the early mist covered lawn sat those three cursed cats staring at this strange boy pedalling towards them.

  I parked my bike at the end of the path and stood facing the door of the dim coloured house and still upon the lawn they were watching...always watching. I slowly began to walk up the path keeping one eye upon the trio of cats whose eyes followed me with every step, and the other eye at the house hoping..just hoping...that the old witch Hackett didn’t come out. I slowly produced a rolled newspaper from my satchel as the cats seemed to draw nearer towards me even though with my one eye still fixed upon them they hadn’t lifted a paw...yet they were closer...I was sure they were closer.

  I gently placed the newspaper upon the step of the house, still keeping one eye upon the trio of cats...yet still they were closer.. I’m still sure they were closer. I had been too busy looking at the cats to realise the old witch Hackett had opened the door and was now standing before me...a scared little child in front of a huge scary woman. Her deep growling breath snarled towards me..and words seem to fail me as I was too scared to speak. And then I had forgotten to keep my eye upon those trio of cats..and now they were by their owner’s feet all now staring with their evil looking eyes, owner plus cats staring into the light blue eyes of a scared little boy.

  This was the first and only time I had been scared...and I made a promise that it would never happen again. I quickly made my exit and raced to the parked bike at the end of the path, rushing hard never looking back towards that witch and the three cats, put the pedal to the metal and raced off towards my home.

  That night I couldn’t sleep because every time I tried I would see the three cats staring back at me...always staring at me with those evil eyes of theirs. But then even as a young boy something had been planted...something had been placed deep within the darkness of my dreams.

  I often dreamt that each night I would travel to the old witch’s house and there would be a silver spade sticking out of the ground, and behind them would be sitting the trio of terror...still watching...still staring...there eyes staining a hole in the back of my mind. And I see myself stretching for the spade, reaching out for the handle. I grasp the handle with both hands and with all the strength my body can muster...

  I pull the spade from the deep soil and look straight into the eyes of the nearest cat...it returns the stare defiantly back at me as I raise the spade as high as I can...and bring it crashing upon the face of the first cat..it’s face impacting upon the spade as a fierce squeal of pain emitted from it’s mouth...the face had split into two as gushes of blood spurted from it’s wound...it’s eyes had one look of fear and hatred towards me and then it’s eyes closed for good...then I turn to the second who had brandished his fangs towards me and a concerto of hisses and wild meows had begun...but its eyes remained locked upon my eyes and mine unto his.

  The fear had now begun to seep from my small body..and I felt stronger and felt unstoppable as I lifted the spade once more above with all the strength this small frame could muster...and I swung it towards the second cat...who unlike the first cat took the full brunt of a weaken swing, the second cat received a much heavy whack from the spade....and with the edge of the flat side of the spade decapitated the head from it....a swarm of blood splattered across the ground where the head bounced and rolled to a stop a few metres from it’s body, which had just flopped over as the blood flowed like a red river...as the innards all bloodied wriggled from the shell it used to call a body.

  I felt a release flowing through my body as I stared deep into the third cat’s eyes who now seemed to look petrified upon the spot..the smell of death rippled around us..and the blood of his brothers were upon my hands...he had no way to escape...he had no where to run...the end came quick for the third one...but not as quick as he would have liked.

  Under the cold moonlight the darkness showed no image...just the moon’s glare producing an outline of a small boy repeated smashing the spade over and over and over again upon the blood splattered carcass of the third cat...the boy wearing nothing...no remorse...no conscious...just a wicked, wicked smile...and then I woke up as the morning sun filtered through the crack with my curtains within my bedroom.

  Like any ordinary day I went to do my usual paper round, and knew what was coming when I reached that final house...the jury of three cats all casting their judgmental gazes upon me as I ride up towards the path..the feeling of guilt as I keep one eye upon them and the other looking out for the judge...the witch Hackett standing at the doorway.

  But as I parked my bike, I looked towards the lawn...no cats....I started to walk up the path casting one eye towards where I knew they would always sit...still no cats appeared...I removed the rolled up newspaper from my satchel and placed it upon the front step...still nothing...as I walked towards my bike at the end of the path, I was curious to know what had happened...that was until a neighbour who had spotted me delivering the newspaper decided to call towards me.

  “No use you delivering papers there no more...she’s gone” replied the neighbour who seemed to be the nosey sort, who loved to delve into other peoples business. “W-what she’s moved house?” I replied nervously towards the neighbour. “No, she’s dead..it happened during the night...the old dear’s heart gave up on her, strange thing is that those three damn cats also died the same night..somebody splattered them to death...took the head clear off there body...cops think it’s a hate crime but the damn woman had many enemies you know!”replied the nosey neighbour towards me as the words hit me like a cinder block across the face.

  I walked towards the place where the cats used to perch their backsides and a little way behind that I spotted three shallow graves...three cat sized shallow graves..but what made it even more spooky was the graves had been dug by a silver spade that had blood dried upon the flat side sticking proudly out of the ground beside the graves. “She saw somebody take that spade to her three cats..one by one they fell..blood was everywhere, her heart couldn’t cope with the distress and it failed her...the paramedics managed to revive her but she was too weak to carry on and her heart finally gave in. The weirdest thing was her final words...’tell the boy I saw him and what he did...curse him...I curse him’, and then she was gone.” spoke the nosey neighbour who had come to stand beside me.

  “She was a crazy lady that one...but those cats of hers always gave me the ‘heebie-jeebies...you know what I mean?, always with them staring eyes casting judgement upon you..it freaked me out you know!...its true what they say sometimes...if you
dream hard enough or wish hard enough then sometimes things happen.” replied the nosey neighbour who walked away as I looked towards the graves wearing a wicked smile...such a wicked smile.

  “But it was her heart that gave way, not that you physically had killed her.” replied Michelle in a slight cute way that offered me a doorway to enter through. “Though I didn’t kill her with my own two hands..I killed her emotionally by using the one thing she cared for and using it as a knife to press into that cold, cold heart of hers.” I remarked sarcastically.

  “So what of the judge himself...that was the first kill by your own hands?” asked Michelle whose face had become an open book..an empty book opened wide to ingest every single word and detail of information I decided to feed it.

  I sat back for a second as my face was once more cloaked by shadows as I began to think and then the memories began to flow as I began to speak...

  “The judge....now that was a good kill, and very personal to me you see as I was very close to the judge so very close he never saw it coming...” I chuckled dementedly as I continued, “it was the summer of 1985...the years of Thatcher had ripped the country into turmoil and I was but a poor working class boy born upon the council estates and looked down upon by the upper classes of this flawed country at that time.

  I was always unlucky with love...though the thought of tasting the morsels of the higher class was always a tempting offer..but actually falling in love with one of them was a mere dream...though if I dreamed hard enough who knows.”I explained as each and every word was captured within those sweet, sweet eyes of Michelle who had given me her full attention...she was definitely intriguing me..very much indeed.

  “I was a lonely lad sometimes sitting alone watching this world pass me by. There was a time when I used to live in Staffordshire, within a small town called Cannock..where I found loneliness a true friend, yes I had friends at school but never was I truly happy at times when I was left alone with my imagination to run rampant and wild with rage.

  There had been ladies who had left their mark upon me...Lynette and Kerry and yes I can say I had feelings for them...I really did, but they were too beautiful and too out of my league to fall in love with this ugly wretch of a boy that stood before them.

  After a few years of humiliation towards attempts to conjure up the courage to ask one of them out for a date...which I chickened out of and to this very day it is something I regret very dearly..I retreated away for a few years returning to one place I could call home...a place where it’s arms were always ready to welcome you back no matter how lonely or how hurt you had become...Norwich, sweet Norwich..my Norwich.”I remained in the shadows allowing the single tear to drift it’s way down my cheek as I remembered my sweet memories of Norwich, the place of my first kill by my hands.

  “It was the spring of 2004, and I had finally found love..I had been working at a local cinema...collecting tickets, serving refreshments, cleaning toilets but the perks were good. I was able to watch the new films from the back of the theatre as the paying public looked on in awe within the darkness as the single projection light flickered as it shone upon the screen before them. I had seen this girl every weekend, coming with friends to see the fresh new films of the week..she was totally a film buff, she had definitely the craving to watch films and live a secret dream forgetting the cruel real world behind and enter a world where dreams could come true.

  I was hypnotised by her beauty, drowning within those gorgeous green eyes...I was drunk with love and I wanted taste much more..so much more, yet here I was a simple assistant behind a counter blind to those gorgeous green eyes and invisible to her world. And in the corner I saw an old friend with arms wide open trying to beckon me into them...it was loneliness begging for me...calling for me, but I turned away from it...I suddenly did something out of character..I spoke to her, but the words kinda stumbled out from my mouth.

  “D-do you need anything else?” the words felt trembling and weak but I was shocked to see her turn back and with a delicious tender smile spoke back towards me...”No, I’m good thanks...but thanks for asking!”she winked as her warm words melted into my body and wrapped itself around my heart.

  “Jesus, Chloe you made the nerd blush....look at them cheeks all flabby and on fire.” the cruel words came from a group of girls who had accompanied this Chloe to the cinema. The cackling of pre-pubescent girls rippled around the room, as I excused myself and took a retreat to the men’s rest room without knowing that Chloe had glanced a concerned look towards my direction.

  I entered the cubicle and locked it behind me as the rumble of tears was about to explode from my eyes and I couldn’t hold them back..the tears did flow and soon they began to sting my flabby cheeks as they dripped to the ground below.

  I wiped them dry and tried to wash my face, so it hadn’t shown that I had been crying...but the raw redness was still visible in places.

  I was glad the film had started and I was able to hide my embarrassment within the darkness of the theatre. But then I heard that horrid cackling voice...the leader of the group of girls that had taunted me..Joanna Stout was her name, Miss know-it-all and keen ballerina though what Daddy’s girl wanted...Daddy’s girl normally did get, and usually that was spending Daddy’s money.

  She was about halfway down the theatre cackling away while the trailers played before the main feature film, and beside the cackling crows was sweet dear Chloe, sitting quietly watching the trailers, taking in and each bit of information that flickered upon the screen before her. I became captivated with her, by her grace and her beauty and she became my own secret crush...a crush I was destined to never have.

  “Oh look old Blushers here” the voice broke the silence as cackling Joanna Stout had spotted me from where she sat and the band of witches all soon began their mocking chant once more, I walked out of the theatre to the reception area to avoid the cruel cackles and snipes from the witches...yet I hadn’t noticed Chloe turn around and glance towards me as I left the main theatre. I sat upon the stool that was next to a pick’n’mix stand that sold various bags of sugary death for ‘the kids’ such as flying saucers, boiled sweets, flumps which were marshmallow bits, and the good old barley sugars.

  I had been staring at the floor for quite a while and had gone into my own little daydream world...I hadn’t notice the time as the hours flew by and didn’t notice the cackling witches leave...but then a soft hand rested upon mine and there she was...Chloe kneeling down before me looking sweetly into my eyes.

  “Are you ok?, I’m sorry about the girls...they shouldn’t have teased you like they did, I wanna apologise for their behaviour towards you.” Chloe replied as she beamed a smile so sweet, it warmed the coldness from my body.

  “That’s ok, I-I’m fine thank you...”I replied nervously, “Good, I’m glad.” she said as she got to her feet and planted a soft kiss upon my cheeks, before walking towards the main entrance.

  She stopped at the open door and turn round towards my direction..”See you next week sexypants!.”Chloe shouted and winked seductively before disappearing into the dark night. I felt suddenly better...no better than better it was fantastic!, but something dark had festered once more deep inside me...something dark indeed,,,something called revenge.

  Joanna Stout’s father was a High Court Judge, and attain a very large salary for doing such a job...the family lived out from the main City of Norwich in the countryside or as we working class lot called ‘the posh area’. Their home was a large detached house around the £250,000 minimum price bracket, but to a young lad’s eyes it was more in the £500,000 area. The house had a fixed conservatory on the one side and a purpose built indoor swimming pool on the other side of the building.

  A large drive separated me from the door of the house, as I slowly made my way towards the side of the house...covered with shadows by the nearby trees I silently made my way towards the swimming pool exterior. Joanna and her stupid mother were at her daughter’s ballerina lessons, so it was j
ust me and old Money-bags himself alone. There was a light coming from the swimming pool as I edged nearer towards it.

  Inside the swimming pool, there was old Money-bags himself doing lengths in the pool and even better he was wearing earplugs so his hearing would be lower than usual, I crept to the nearby french-style doors to the swimming pool....damn locked!, no problem I thought as I began to use the knife I had bought with me to use and wedge the door opened. After a few seconds the door clicked open...fancy doors, shame it was such cheap workmanship though.

  Mr Stout had not heard me enter the swimming pool area as he continued to thrash and crash up and down the pool, as I watched from the dark shadowy areas of the pool. There beside me upon a crudely fashioned plinth was a large marble statue...a statue of old Stout himself. Pretentious prick I thought to myself...but an idea formed as I reached out a picked up the statue off it’s plinth...a quite dull heavy statue but not too heavy to pick up and carry in one hand.

  Mr Stout cut true and even through the water, as he completed another length, I stopped dead in my tracks as he began to leave the pool...the drops of pool water created a trail as they slipped from his body. He wiped his eyes and made a move towards a custom built steam room opposite the pool...I followed still holding the statue firmly in my right hand and taking care not slip upon the wet tiles near the water’s edge.