Deviant

  GET HIM OUT!

  “Shit, you never said you were married or with anyone. I don’t do this kind of thing with girls who are attached. It’s too much fucking hassle.”

  Still in shock, I followed Brad back into the living room, watching him grab his coat. I should have told him. He was a policeman, after all. I should have explained about my stalker who had been breaking in and rummaging through my flat on a regular basis for three years. For some reason, I couldn’t get the words out. I should have said them, but I had this need to protect this stranger. He was my stranger, after all.

  After a few seconds of silence, the only thing that left my lips was, “I’m sorry. I thought we didn’t have that kind of relationship, but I’m obviously wrong.”

  Sighing, Brad put his coat on. “What do you mean?” He shook his head and walked to the door. “Oh, never mind. Nice meeting you.”

  Hearing the door slam shut, I just sank back in my chair. For some reason, I didn’t feel so drunk anymore. Also, for some strange reason, I wasn’t angry. I should have been angry. Whoever he was had been stalking me for God knows how long, been going through my belongings for over three years, and now it seemed he wanted to control my love life. He knew everything there was to know about me, and now he obviously felt like he had some sort of claim on me.

  Thinking about it some more, I realized then that he must have followed me tonight. He must have known I was coming home with him and, somehow, got back to my flat before I did.

  It was at that moment I wondered if he was still here. How could he possibly have gotten back, wrote that note, and disappeared before I came in? One had to wonder.

  With anticipation crawling all the way up my body, I rose from my chair, stumbled a little, then proceeded to make my way through all the rooms.

  I didn’t find anything, of course. It was only once I got into the bedroom that I saw another note pinned to my bed. Laughing, I realized he must have put it there just in case I didn’t stick to my daily water ritual.

  Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t just jealous. He was possessive. The words scribbled across the paper told me as much.

  You are mine!

  Sighing, I found myself saying, “If you think I’m yours, why don’t you ever show yourself? Come out, come out, wherever you are.” I giggled.

  Standing there for a few seconds, I began to realize all that was greeting me was silence.

  Taking the hint, I dropped the note and made my way to the bathroom to get ready for bed. I wasn’t going to stew too much on this tonight. I was too drunk and too tired to dwell on what had taken place. Tomorrow was another day. I had to find out, once and for all, who this guy was.

  *****

  In my dazed sleep, I was vaguely aware of someone’s hands on me. Fingers were trailing up and down my arms so seductively, I couldn’t help my moans. It kind of felt like a dream, but the dream seemed all too real. Am I dreaming? Are these hands on me real? I didn’t know. My head didn’t seem to want to know. All my body wanted to do was feel, and I was lapping up every single morsel of the touch.

  Shooting out of bed, I realized it was morning. I searched my bed, but there was nothing. Was it a dream? It felt too real. On the other hand, I was a little intoxicated so I was probably just hallucinating. Maybe having my stranger around me was playing tricks with my head. I was not only seeing things. I was feeling things now.

  With a shake of my head, I got up to use the toilet. The paper was on the wrong damn way again. What was with him and this obsession with my toilet paper? “I live here, pal, not you!” I shouted into thin air. “Great! Now you’re getting me to talk to myself. Way to go, Tyler. You’re finally fucking losing it!”

  I shook my head, but got on with it. I was eager to see if there were any messages today, so once I was showered and dressed, I switched my phone to silent and booted up my laptop.

  I watched as all the messages came floating in. There must have been a hundred of them. Some were a little weird, some were just plain disgusting. With one click, I deleted those, then got on with the genuine ones. I was about halfway through when I spotted a message that piqued my interest straight away.

  Hi. My name is Jeremy and I’m fifteen-years-old. For some time now, I have had this crush on a girl I met outside McDonalds, but I never had the guts to approach her and ask her out. I wanted to, but I can’t right now. You see, I’m sick. I’m at the hospital and have been for a few days. It’s obviously hard to declare my undying love to her now, and I feel I don’t have much time. The other thing is that I’ve never really kissed a girl, and if I do die, I would like to go knowing I had my very first kiss.

  I actually have several other things on my list, like trying and liking vegetables. Yuck. I can’t understand how adults eat and enjoy vegetables so much. I mean, are they really that special?

  Anyway, my secret crush’s name is Julie, and I would love for you to post this message for me.

  Julie, for some time now, I have admired you from afar. When I first saw you standing outside McDonalds on Brent Street, a number of things happened. It was your hair that first attracted me to you and made me take notice. Your bouncy, strawberry-blonde hair swayed so magically, my breath immediately caught. When you looked at me, I almost fainted. You have the most unusual eyes I have ever seen. Then you smiled. It was only the briefest of smiles, as you were distracted, but it always made me wonder how much longer you would have stared at me. As for me, I couldn’t steal my eyes away.

  If you read this message, I would first of all love to say how beautiful you are. Second of all, if you ever find that you like me, too, and you fancy a chat—or maybe even a little kiss—I would love to hear from you. Love, J.

  I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t print my full name. I know several people at school who read your paper and I know I would never hear the end of it if they saw it.

  Thank you for your time.

  Jeremy

  I sat there blinking for several minutes, and even re-read what Jeremy had written. I was immediately drawn to him, and had to find out who he was, so I sat there and wrote a reply.

  Dear Jeremy,

  I have just read your email and, I must admit, I was immediately taken with your words. You’re only fifteen, but what you said was very heartfelt and mature for someone your age. I, of course, will print this for you, and will endeavour to leave your name out. However, I would love to come and visit you, Jeremy. Could you please let me know which hospital you are in?

  Many thanks,

  Tyler O’Shea

  Writer for the Daily London

  I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t scare him off. I wanted to meet Jeremy simply because he intrigued me so much. His email touched me and made me appreciate how much I have in my life. It saddened me to think he may only have a short time left. I didn’t know what made him think that way, but I wanted to find out.

  It was when I was just about to get up and make my second cup of coffee that another email came through.

  I would love to get a visit from you. I don’t get many visitors. I just didn’t want anyone to find out it was me.

  The minute I saw this, I hit REPLY and started typing.

  Jeremy, believe me when I say I’m not wanting to see you from a journalistic point-of-view. I would just really like to meet you. I swear, neither your picture nor name will be printed in any of my articles. Unless, of course, you tell me to.

  I hit SEND and waited. I could understand his apprehension, as journalists had quite the reputation. The problem I had with my line of work was that I wasn’t like a vulture. That’s why I always wanted to stick with my own column, interviewing people who wished to be interviewed.

  It wasn’t long before a reply came. I suppose being stuck in the hospital gives you lots of time to kill.

  Okay. I’m at St. Francis on Dexter Street. My name is Jeremy Crawlings and I’m in the Benedict Ward. Visiting hours are between 9am – 11am, and then again from 4pm – 6pm. Come whenever you
want, but please bring Twiglets with you.

  I sat there and laughed at the Twiglets request, but responded that I would do my utmost to fulfil his wish. He must be like me as far as Marmite was concerned. You either loved it or hated it, and I loved the stuff. It seemed Jeremy and I already had one thing in common.

  With the emails dealt with, I decided I would go and do a bit of shopping for tonight’s dinner with Ian. Once I did all that, I could relax a bit before going to visit Jeremy. I was looking forward to meeting him.

  It was when I was about to rush out the door that I had an email alert on my phone. It was from Louisa, so I instantly pulled it up.

  Tyler,

  You won’t believe what the fuck just happened!! Why aren’t you answering your fucking phone??? Anyway, I’ve just checked my mail and got an invite to the mansion!! Jesus, Tyler, do you realise just how long I’ve waited for this??? It’s for this Saturday and I can bring a friend. You are soooo going with me. If you say you can’t make it, I shall have to beat you and drag you with me.

  Louisa xx

  I had to laugh. I knew how important this was to her because she had been waiting on a list for months. This “mansion”, as she calls it, is a complete mystery. Every month, a select few got picked to attend a party. It was very strange, but only because no one knew who the hell owned the place. People just got invited, stayed the night if they wanted to, then went home. No speaking with the host, no knowing why the hell they went. It was like the mystery of it all compelled people to want to go even more. Louisa, being the journalist she was had been determined to find out all about it. I couldn’t say how many times she’d driven past it just itching to get inside to see what it was all about.

  And now she wants me to go? Of course I’m going to have to go; otherwise, I would never hear the end of it. I knew my parents had been badgering me about coming to see them. Between their work and mine, we never seemed to find the time. I was going to suggest this weekend, but it looks as though that wouldn’t happen now.

  With a sigh, I shut the door and hit REPLY.

  I’m not a fan of getting beaten by my friends, so I think I’m left with little choice.

  I pressed SEND, then opened the door and made my way down to the street. I wasn’t going to use my car today, but I couldn’t help but take a peak outside to see if it was backed in again. Sure enough, it was, but I was hardly surprised anymore.

  The morning went the way I planned, and I even managed to pick up the all-important Twiglets for Jeremy. I was really looking forward to meeting him. He seemed like a pretty cool kid. I also got stocked up on wine and some mince for the Bolognaise tonight. Ian always said I cooked a mean Bolognaise.

  I walked into my flat, bags in tow, and immediately headed for the bathroom. I could hardly be surprised at what I found when I got there. With a deep sigh, I tried calming myself before switching the toilet paper back around the proper way. My stranger was either trying to wind me up, or he thought this was a hilarious game. Either way, sometimes it grated on me. If this was a relationship, I would meet someone and ask them to move in with me, taking the consequences as they came. With this guy, I had no other choice but to put up with his annoying habits.

  So, Tyler went about her business in her home where her stranger visits. In her home where he watches her and knew all about her. I must be crazy to put up with that shit.

  All of it made me think about Brad for a minute. I would gladly have taken him to my bed last night but, for some reason, I was glad it never happened. My stranger obviously felt he had a claim on me. Why? I wasn’t sure. And what he would do about it, I wasn’t sure of that, either. I’m not saying I was glad because I didn’t want to piss my stranger off. But I’m not the type of girl to bring some random guy back to their place and sleep with him. In a sense, he kind of did me a favour. In another sense, though, it made me wonder about meeting someone. What if I did meet a guy and we got along really well? What if, at some point, I wanted to bring him back here? What if we wanted to build a relationship? What would happen to my stranger then? What would he do about it? I didn’t know the answers. At the same time, as it was freaking me out a little, it also made me a little excited, in a perverted sort of way.

  I know I probably needed to see someone. I must be certifiable by keeping all this quiet. My parents and friends would go ballistic if they ever knew I was being practically stalked and I did nothing about it, said nothing about it. To be perfectly honest, I couldn’t understand the logic behind it myself. He must be a little crazy himself if he went around doing things like this. It obviously wasn’t normal. It was deviant behaviour, and I sat there wondering what the hell he was going to do next. He had been my constant for the past three years, but it never went beyond tidying up what I had messed up, or moving something to a spot he thought it should be. Did last night’s outburst change things? Will it finally set something in motion that will answer all my longing questions? Who was he? What did he want with me? Am I going to wake up during the night with him hovering over my bed and an axe in his hand? They were all perfectly logical questions. The only thing seeming to discredit the last one was the fact that if he wanted to harm me, he would surely have done it by now. There was no denying he had plenty of opportunities in the past to do exactly that. If he wanted me dead, why was I still here?

  With that and other things milling around in my head, I went to work putting the groceries away, doing a bit of housework, and grabbing a small bite to eat before heading out to see Jeremy. The hospital was only around a half-hour walk from where I lived, so when it got close to three-thirty, I thought I should leave. I hadn’t been exercising lately, so a quick, brisk stroll to the hospital and back would be just the ticket for today.

  With a bag of Twiglets stuffed in my bag, and a book I picked up for Jeremy at the store, I was well on my way. It was a cloudy day again today, so I made sure I took my umbrella just in case. I didn’t want to get caught in a rainstorm halfway to the hospital.

  Once at the hospital, I gazed at the directory to try and find the Benedict Ward. The ward was on the third floor, so I walked to the lift. The hospital was busy. Even the lift had about ten people trying to squeeze their way in. I seriously started panicking that maybe I was in a lift with people who had all done bad things and were going to hell. I couldn’t deal with being visited by the devil today and being sent to burn for eternity. I had other things to do.

  Once it got to the third floor, I breathed a sigh of relief and excused myself, walking out of the lift. All seemed quiet, apart from a couple who were standing by the doorway of the ward. The lady was crying, and the man beside her was comforting her as best he could. It made me feel a little saddened by the prospect that they had a child here who was ill…or worse.

  Shuddering at the thought, I did my best to try and give them their privacy, quickly making my way in. My first shock was at seeing the amount of children on the ward. I didn’t realise so many children could get sick. I knew they did but it was a shock to see nonetheless.

  “Can I help you?” a nurse asked as I looked around.

  “Yes, please. I’ve come to visit Jeremy Crawlings. He is expecting me.”

  “Tyler O’Shea!”

  Looking over the nurse’s shoulder, I spotted a boy with no hair sitting up in bed. He was very good-looking with soft blue eyes and rosebud lips. Despite all of this, though, he didn’t look very well.

  “Jeremy?” I asked, thanking the nurse and making my way towards his bed.

  “Wow. You’re even hotter in the flesh. Your picture doesn’t do you justice.”

  I smiled, thinking he had a little bit of cheek in him. I liked people who were cheeky. Some people get away with it, some people don’t. With Jeremy’s cheeky smile, I knew he was the “getting away with it” type.

  “And it’s lovely to meet you, too,” I replied, sitting down beside him and reaching out my hand.

  Jeremy smiled brightly at me and took my hand. “What, no kiss? I t
hink I’ve changed my mind about Julie now that I’ve met you.”

  Giggling, I rummaged through my bag. “As flattered as I am, I don’t think the law takes too kindly to grown women kissing fifteen-year-old boys.”

  Jeremy pulled himself up a little on the bed. “Ah, that’s too bad. I suppose there was no harm in asking.”

  I shook my head, laughing. “I suppose not. Now, I know you wanted me to bring you Twiglets, and I came through on my promise.” Pulling out the items, I handed them to Jeremy with a warm smile. He took them and his face was a picture. It immediately made my heart swell. I had taken to this boy instantly.

  “You don’t know how badly I’ve been craving these. Thank you.”

  I placed my bag beside the bed and looked back up at Jeremy. “You’re very welcome. But why won’t someone else bring you some?”

  Jeremy’s face fell with a hint of sadness. “I don’t have many friends.”

  My heart went from swelling to aching in a fraction of a second. “But why?” I couldn’t understand how anyone would not want to befriend him.

  Jeremy shrugged and briefly looked up at me. “There’s no point in me making friends. There’s really no point in you being here, either.”

  Rearing back, I gazed upon Jeremy in shock. “But why? I don’t understand.”

  He looked at me with a pained expression. “You’re not going to write anything down, are you?”

  “Of course not. I made a promise and I will keep it. Whatever you say to me will never leave this room, unless you want it to. I came here today because I wanted to meet you.”

  “And kiss me?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

  I gave him my best unamused look. “Don’t push it, kiddo.”