After the Cabin (4 page)

At least once a minute, I glance over my shoulder, terrified in case I have another vision of Jennifer.

“Jesus Christ, woman!” Joe's voice shouts in my head, and a moment later I remember the pain of a pair of scissors slicing into my thigh. “Do you really think that was a smart move? Go on, do it again. Bite me, bitch, and see what I do next.”

Sniffing back tears, I reach the steps that lead up to the walkway that crosses high above the tracks. A solitary orange street-lamp lights the scene, but as I make my way up the steps I'm soon back in darkness again. It's hard to believe that I was stupid enough to come out tonight. I knew it was too soon, I knew I was pushing myself, but I honestly thought I'd battle through and be okay. Now, however, I'm starting to realize that I was a complete idiot. As I hear sirens in the distance and the boom of jets overhead, I'm finally forced to accept that I'm not ready to dive back into the world. I still don't accept that I'm fragile, but I have to admit that I'm not too sturdy, either

“The more you fight back,” Joe's voice continues, echoing from that night at the cabin three years ago, “the more the people watching this video are gonna get off on what they're seeing.”

“Shut up!” I hiss, shuffling along the narrow metal walkway.

“You're fighting all the way,” Joe's voice says, “and that's what people want to see. Your video's gonna be ten times as popular as hers once it hits the dark web. Hell, it's gonna be -”

“Shut up!” I shout, stopping and turning, almost as if for a moment I expect Joe to be standing right behind me. There's no sign of him, of course, but as I hear a train rumbling toward the walkway I'm convinced that at any moment Joe will speak to me again. These memories seem to be rushing out more and more, as if my brain takes great delight in regurgitating every last detail of what happened in the cabin. “The video doesn't even exist anymore,” I stammer, to remind myself. “It was destroyed in the fire.”

“Talking to yourself?”

I freeze.

It can't be.

Not again.

“Hey,” she continues. “Why don't you just jump?”

Turning slowly, I see Jennifer standing a few meters away, staring at me with those same calm, impassive eyes that I remember from the cabin's basement.

I take a step back.

“It'd all be over if you jumped,” she points out. “Instead of a life-time of misery, you'd get two or three seconds of blessed relief, and then you'd never have to feel anything ever again. Compared to that, the actual moment of pain would be just... nothing.”

Looking down at the tracks, I see that another train is speeding this way. Jennifer's right, I
could
clamber over the side and jump down, and there's no way I'd survive. I considered suicide at the hospital, of course, but I was never brave enough, and I kept telling myself that I had to focus on getting better. Everyone said I was strong but fragile, and I felt pressure to prove that I could bounce back and live a normal life again. I guess that's why I made the dumb decision to come out tonight, but...

The train thunders past just a few meters beneath my feet, causing the entire metal walkway to rattle and shake for a few seconds.

“Pity,” Jennifer says calmly, “but there'll be another one along soon.”

Turning to her, I shake my head.

“No?” She smiles. “Hey, bitch, where's your nose?”

“Leave me alone,” I stammer.

“Why?”

“Leave me alone!” I shout, taking a step toward her.

“After what you did to me?” she asks with a frown.

“What
I
did to
you
?” I reply, shivering with shock. “What the hell did I do to you?
You're
the one who tied
me
to a chair and... and...”

“I know,” she says calmly, “I remember. But you're not exactly innocent in all of this, are you? Tell me there's not a part of you that enjoys it. What was your favorite part? The pain? The blood?”

“Go to hell,” I whisper.

In the distance, there's the sound of another train approaching.

“Everyone thinks you're so innocent,” she continues. “Poor Anna, brave Anna,
strong
Anna. What if they knew the truth? What if they knew what you did after the cabin burned down?”

“You're just in my mind,” I tell her.

“Are you sure?”

“I saw you die!”

She smiles again. “No-one's disputing that.”

For a fraction of a second, I remember the moment when Jennifer fell to the floor in the dark kitchen, with two knives embedded in her back and poking out through her chest. I remember the look of shock in her eyes, and her pained gasps as she tried to deny what was happening.

“What's wrong?” she asks, as the next train roars under the walkway, causing the entire structure to shudder. “There goes another. You've had two chances to kill yourself now, two trains, and you let them both go. You could be in peace by now, but you chose to still be here. How long have you been out of hospital? Is it even ten hours yet? And already you've had half a dozen hallucinations, you've lost your nose, and now you're shivering up here while I taunt you. Think of all the nights you've got ahead of you, Anna. What if they're all like this? What if you never get better?”

“You're not real,” I whisper, before closing my eyes tight shut. I feel as if I'm on the very edge of tipping into an abyss, and I need to push this hallucination away before it takes over my entire soul. “You're not real, you
can't
be real. I'm not even going to look at you! When I open my eyes, you'll be gone!”

“Is that right?”

“Yes!”

I wait.

Silence.

After a few seconds, I hear the sound of another train approaching.

I should open my eyes, but I'm scared that she'll still be here.

Instead, I hold my breath, trying to calm my thoughts. If I just force myself to be stronger, I won't have these hallucinations. It's all about mind control, and discipline, and keeping hold of my sanity. I've told myself over and over that I won't let my experience in the cabin change me, and now I need to prove that those words mean something. If I can push her away tonight, I'll know that I can -

“What's the matter?” her voice asks suddenly. “Don't believe in ghosts?”

Opening my eyes, I find that she's even closer now, leaning into my face.

Filled with fear, I turn and see the lights of another train getting closer. This time it's not a passenger train, it's one of those huge, long cargo transports. Barely even able to think properly, I put my hands on the cold handrail and look down, seeing the tracks far below and the metal starting to shine brighter and brighter as the train's lights approach. All around me, the walkway is starting to shudder.

“Do it!” Jennifer hisses.

I try to imagine how it'd feel if I jumped down and the train hit me. There'd be pain, but it'd be brief, maybe half a second at most before my body burst in a shower of blood and bone, and then there'd be no more pain ever again. My mother would be distraught, and Karen too, but they'd just have to cope. At least I wouldn't have to live with Jennifer's voice constantly following me. I'd be free.

“Do it!” Jennifer shouts.

As the train rushes closer, I start to climb over the side.

“Do it!”

Four

The train flashes beneath the walkway, roaring along the tracks with furious power until suddenly it's gone and the tracks are empty again. Far below, the rails are still humming slightly, but it's as if a brief storm has finally passed.

And there's a hand on my shoulder.

I wait.

Is it her?

Please, no, don't let it be her. I heard her and saw her, but if I can feel her too...

“Anna?”

A male voice.

With a flood of relief, I realize that it's not Jennifer.

Turning, I see Matt standing behind me, his eyes wide with shock. “Are you okay?” he asks. “I...” He pauses. “What were you doing? You weren't about to...”

His voice trails off, but it's clear that he's suspicious.

“No,” I stammer, looking both ways along the walkway but seeing no sign of Jennifer. “Did you see her?” I ask, turning back to him.

“See who?”

“Did you
see
her?” I ask again, with desperation in my voice as I take a couple of steps along the walkway. There's still no sign of her now, as if she just vanished into the cold night air.

“There was no-one else here,” he replies. “You were talking, I didn't hear what you said, but it's like you were chatting away to yourself or...” He pauses. “I was calling your name, but it's like you couldn't hear me. You were staring over the edge, and for a moment I thought...”

Looking down at the tracks, I try to imagine what it would be like if I'd jumped. For a moment, I see parts of my mangled body smeared along the metal, with blood splattered all around, and I try to imagine the void of nothingness that would have engulfed me. Then I turn and look the other way, and I imagine the train having come to a stop with a distraught driver climbing out, and I realize his life would have been destroyed. In a flash, I'm filled with relief that I didn't do anything stupid, and it's hard to believe that I even considered the possibility. I swear, it's almost as if Jennifer was somehow in my head, urging me to jump.

“Who were you talking to?” Matt asks.

I turn to him. “I don't know,” I stammer, shivering in the cold night air. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Taking off his jacket, he places it around my shoulders, and I immediately feel warm again. “Come on,” he says with a faint smile. “Let's find somewhere a little nicer.”

With that, he leads me along the walkway. As we get to the far end, I can't help noticing a battered old CCTV camera high up on the wall, watching us.

***

“It's a miracle I found you,” Matt says a short while later, as he sets a cup of tea on the table in the brightly-lit cafe. Nearby, some drunk late-night party animals are screaming their order at the guy behind the counter.

“How did you know where to look?” I ask.

“Karen was worried about you when you ran from the club. We decided to split up and see if we could catch up to you, and by some miracle...” He pauses. “I don't know, it's like, Karen figured you'd just take the main street and go home, but I thought maybe you'd want to keep away from the crowds. When she told me where you live, I felt like if I was in your situation, I'd take the path around the edge of town and past the old station. I guess I was right.”

A faint smile crosses my lips. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“What the hell is
that
?” one of the drunk guys screeches suddenly. Before I've even turned to look at him, I know damn well that he's referring to me, and sure enough he's already pushing his nose up to make his nostrils bigger. “Where'd your nose go, darling?” he shouts, as his friends giggle. “Bloody hell, done too much coke?”

“Got a problem?” Matt snarls, getting to his feet and stepping toward the guy as I hold a napkin up to cover my nose.

“Easy, mate,” the guy says, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “I didn't mean to have a go at your girlfriend.”

“She's not my girlfriend,” he says firmly, shoving the guy back against the counter, “and you need to shut your mouth or I'll put my fist right through it.”

“Whatever,” the guy replies, turning to his friends as their order is delivered.

For a moment, I'm worried that Matt is going to punch the guy anyway, but finally he sighs and comes back over. “Sorry about that,” he mutters as he sits down. He's clearly annoyed, and he glances back at the drunk guys as they loudly bundle out of the cafe. “There are far too many idiots in the world.”

“I've got a spare nose at home,” I tell him, with a napkin still covering my exposed nostrils. This whole situation feels ludicrous, almost surreal, and I don't know whether to laugh or cry. “I don't think I should have come here, I should -”

“Don't be ashamed,” he replies, taking my hand and gently lowering it to the table. “You're beautiful just the way you are.”

“That's sweet,” I tell him, “but we both know it's not true.” I turn my face slightly and hold my hair back, to give him a better view of the scars around my mangled ear. I feel a shiver of embarrassment running through my chest, but at the same time I somehow don't mind letting him see. Besides, the scars on my neck and face are just the most visible; beneath my clothes, I'm a patchwork mess of stitched-together skin and twisted damage. “I'm used to it now,” I continue, “so there's no need to pretend.”

“I'm not pretending. I think you're...” He pauses, before breaking into an embarrassed smile. “Well, you know what I mean. I just hate seeing drunk jerks having a go.”

With trembling hands, I start tearing apart one of the napkins. “I guess Karen told you about me, then?”

He hesitates for a moment, but finally he nods. “Only the basics, but I remember reading about what happened to you a few years ago. It was, like, all over the news and everything when you first came back to England. I can't even begin to imagine what that was like for you, and I sure as hell don't know what to say.”

“You don't need to say
anything
,” I tell him. “The truth is... People always feel the need to say something, when really it'd be better if they just acted normal.” Taking a deep breath, I realize that once again the flashes of violence have faded, and I'm no longer hearing voices or seeing things that I know can't be real. I glance across the cafe, just to make absolutely certain that there's no vision of Jennifer sitting nearby, but I guess that was just a brief, hopefully one-off episode. I definitely shouldn't have come out tonight, not so soon after leaving hospital. Hopefully my brain just had a brief spurt of madness and it's all settled now.

Please God, let that be all it was. Let me not have jeopardized my recovery by being so stubborn and dumb.

Turning back to Matt, I see that he's watching me intently, although he immediately looks down at his cup of tea when we make eye contact. If I didn't know better, I'd think that he's a little shy.

“So let me get this clear,” I continue. “When you caught up to me on that walkway, there was really no-one else there?”

He frowns. “Should there have been?”

“No, it's just...”

My voice trails off. If I tell him about Jennifer, he'll think I'm insane. Then again, I guess I'm probably a fair way along that road already, so at least telling the story would give him some context.

“Everyone thinks you're so innocent,” Jennifer's voice whispers, echoing in my mind from that encounter on the walkway. “What if they knew the truth? What if they knew what you did after the cabin burned down?”

What did I do? It's like she's trying to make me remember something.

“Anna?” Matt says after a moment. “Are you okay?”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” I ask, realizing that I was getting lost in my thoughts again. “You didn't answer before.”

“Like, actual dead people coming back?” He pauses. “No. No, I've never been into that sort of thing. I think that when someone dies, they stay dead, no matter what. I guess it's scary to believe that, but if ghosts were real we'd have proof by now, wouldn't we? A photo, a recording, some kind of scientific explanation, it's like... I just can't believe that something so massive could exist without someone having found concrete evidence by now.” Another pause, and slowly a smile crosses his lips. “Why? Were you having an argument with a ghost when I found you? I could hear you talking to someone.”

“Maybe,” I tell him. “Just for a second it...”

Sighing, I realize I can't possibly explain it in a way that would make him understand. I'd have to go back to the very beginning, and the last thing I was is to bore him to death.

“I was just on the phone,” I add finally, hoping to brush it all aside. “I was talking to someone.”

“You were?”

I nod, even though I can tell he's not convinced.

“So do
you
believe in ghosts?” he asks after a moment.

For a few seconds, I think back to that final night in the cabin, when I saw Karen Lund and Marit stabbing Jennifer. Karen and Marit were dead by then, so there's no way they could have been there, but I have a very strong, very vivid image of them in the darkness, standing over Jennifer as she died. At least, that's what I remember seeing, but now the whole thing just feels so unlikely. The doctors told me I was substituting fantasies for what really happened, they gave a fancy name to it and I know they thought that I was the one who stabbed Jennifer. The memory of those ghosts seems so real, but I guess it's possible that my mind was playing tricks on me, the same way it played tricks tonight.

I can't even trust the things that are right in front of me.

“It's complicated,” I tell him finally. “I mean, who knows, right?” Picking up another napkin, I hold it over my nose.

“I think you're great,” he replies.

I frown.

“Seriously,” he continues. “To still be here, to not be a gibbering wreck in a straitjacket... I can't imagine what kind of coping strategies someone would need in order to keep going. I mean, nine people out of ten would be a total basket case if something like that happened to them. I read about the injuries you suffered in the cabin, I can't even believe that there are people out there who'd do something like that.” He pauses. “Actually, scratch that. I
can
believe it. I just wish that kind of thing couldn't happen.”

I open my mouth to reply, but suddenly I become aware of a figure approaching the table. Turning, I see that another drunk guy has come stumbling over, making no attempt to hide the fact that he's staring in shock at my missing nose.

“What the actual...” he stammers, before his voice trails off. Reaching out, he tries to touch my face, but I pull away. He tries again, and this time I push his hand away.

“Get out of here,” Matt says firmly, getting to his feet.

“What's wrong with her?” the guy asks, trying again to touch my face before turning to Matt. Swaying slightly, he's clearly wasted. “Is she -”

Before the guy can get another word out, Matt swings a punch and knocks him out cold, sending him clattering back against one of the tables.

“Come on,” he says, turning to me with a sigh, “I think we're about to get thrown out of this place anyway.”

***

“And here we are,” he says a short while later, as he stops in front of my mother's house and turns to me. “One lady, delivered safely to her door. Notice that I didn't describe you as a damsel in distress. I was very clear about that.”

“You didn't have to walk me home,” I tell him with a smile.

“I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I didn't,” he replies. “I guess maybe I'm a little old-fashioned. Good job we didn't come across any puddles, or I'd have had to put my coat down for you.”

I can't help smiling like a goddamn fool. I might not be in the market for any kind of involvement right now, but I can't deny that this Matt guy is seriously charming, and he's not bad-looking either. In another life, one where I felt more ready to deal with complications, I'd be seriously hoping for a kiss right now.

“Seriously,” he continues, “this coat was pretty expensive. I'd have to take it to the dry-cleaners and everything.”

“You're very chivalrous,” I tell him, checking my watch and seeing that it's almost 2am. Somehow my first night out of hospital has zoomed past in a daze, although I still think I should have heeded my mother's warnings and taken it easier instead of throwing myself back into life. Lesson learned. “I'd invite you in,” I add, “but my mother's probably wide awake and trust me, she'd make things awkward.”

“I don't need any help when it comes to making things awkward,” he replies.

We stand in silence for a moment.

“See?” he adds, taking a step back. “I hope I see you around some time, Anna. It was really nice meeting you, and I hope the assholes you bumped into don't make you look back on this night as a total dud. Hopefully you at least got something positive out of the whole experience.”

“I'm sure I did,” I reply, feeling relieved that he didn't try to make a move. He's hot, but I'm definitely not ready for anything like that, and I might never be again. Then again, given the state of my body, I doubt I need to worry too much about guys making advances. I'm not being self-pitying, it's just a fact: I have a damaged body that no-one could ever find attractive. “Now if you'll excuse me,” I tell him, “I have to go inside and find my spare nose.”