After the Cabin (6 page)

I pause for a moment.

No, I didn't deserve anything.

I might have been a little naive, but that's not exactly a crime.

Dragging the slider across the screen to the hour mark, I hit play again, and this time I see a wobbly, indistinct image of something being rolled across the floor. It takes a moment before I realize that it's me, unconscious now in the cabin's basement. Suddenly a boot comes into view, slamming into me with enough force to send me slamming into the wall.

“Hey!” Jennifer's voice hisses from the speaker. “Save it for the main show, dumb-ass!”

A hand moves into view, grabbing my shirt and pulling it up to reveal the side of my chest, where there's already a dark red mark. I wasn't even conscious when this part happened.

“Well done,” Jennifer sighs, “you've broken a rib.”

“So?” asks another voice. Joe.

“So did we get it on camera?” she asks. She sounds so matter-of-fact, so business-like.

I pause the video again, this time on her face. I guess we're finally getting close to the part where the torture begins. The first hour of the video was just establishing shots, scenes showing me hanging out with the others, letting the viewers get to know me before the main part of the show begins. I look at the slider and try to imagine what's in the remaining five hours of footage, but deep down I already know. It's all the same incidents that I've been replaying over and over in my mind, except this time I can see it as it really happened.

I take a deep breath.

My lips are dry, and my heart is pounding.

I drag the slider along, figuring I'll just take a very,
very
brief look, just to get an idea. Stopping at the three hour mark, I move the cursor over, ready to play the video again, but for a moment I hold back.

I shouldn't do this.

In fact, this is the single most stupid, damaging choice I could make.

If I had any sense at all...

“Don't be an idiot,” I whisper, daring myself to just delete the video. “You don't need to see this. You already know what happened.”

I wish I could be brave enough to resist, but already I know that I'm not. I'm going to watch this video, just as surely as night follows day.

“Just a quick look,” I tell myself. “Just to be sure that it's...”

Sitting in silence, I feel as if all the thoughts have left my mind. Finally I click the button, and my agonized scream bursts from the speaker as I see a shaky, hand-held view of my naked body being punched repeatedly. I reach out to stop the video again, but instead I freeze, staring with wide-eyed horror as the video continues and a figure steps into view, swinging a baseball bat into my chest.

I can't stop watching. Wide-eyed, with my mind almost completely blank, I stare at the screen as the video continues.

Six

“How much did you see?” Doctor Lewis asks the next day as we sit in his quiet, sunlit office.

Staring over at the window, where a tree outside is being blown by a gentle morning breeze, I think back to that long, frozen afternoon yesterday when I sat in my room, unable to stop the video.

“Anna? How much did you watch?”

I turn to him.

I should answer.

“Almost all of it,” I stammer finally. “I skipped some of the early parts, but once the torture started...” My voice trails off.

“I see.” He makes a note, and it's clear that he's not very impressed. “Anna,” he continues finally, “I have to say, you really -”

“I know,” I reply, interrupting him. “It was stupid, it was
really
stupid.” I pause again. “To be honest, ever since I got out of hospital, I've been making one stupid decision after another. With the video, it was like... I didn't
decide
to watch it, I
had
to watch it, the way I have to breathe in and out, or the way I have to eat and drink. What else am I supposed to do, just ignore it and pretend it doesn't exist?”

“And why did you -”

“Have
you
seen it?” I ask.

He pauses.

“Have you?”

“No, Anna. Of course not.”

Staring at him for a moment, I feel as if he's lying. He's meeting my gaze and he has that same calm expression that I've seen many times before, but there's just something about the look in his eyes that makes me think he
has
watched the video, or at least part of it. I mean, why wouldn't he? It's almost his
job
to watch it; besides, despite his calm demeanor he might secretly be the kind of person who gets off on that kind of video. Yeah, he's definitely seen it, he's probably been through it a couple of times at least, making notes and taking screen-shots, discussing it with his colleagues. Maybe they've passed it around the office by now.

“Anna?” he says after a moment. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like...” He pauses, before tilting his head slightly, like a dog. “Why did you -”

“Wouldn't
you
watch it if there was a video about you?” I ask.

He pauses again.

“How could you stop yourself?” I continue. “Wouldn't basic human curiosity
compel
you to take a look?”

“Anna, are you cold?”

“What?”

“You appear to be shivering.”

Realizing that he's right, I lean back in the chair and try to stay still, but it's as if I'm filled with this uncontrollable urge to shudder. Lately, there seems to be a very strong disconnect between my mind and my body.

“I'm fine,” I tell him. “I just don't see the need to talk about the video, especially if you say you haven't seen it.” I watch his face for a moment, looking for some flicker that'll betray the truth. He's watched it. I know he has. “If you really haven't seen it,” I continue, “then you should. All of it. I give you permission.”

“Permission?”

“You know what I mean,” I reply. “Frankly, if you still say you haven't watched it at our next session, I almost feel like you're not doing your job properly. You can't help me without seeing it.”

***

“Anna! Hey Anna, hold up!”

Stopping with my key in the front door, I turn and see Karen running along the driveway.

“Hey,” she says breathlessly, smiling as she reaches me and leans against the wall. “Didn't you hear me calling you from down the street? Jesus Christ, I am
so
out of shape.”

“Sorry,” I mutter, opening the door and letting her into the hallway of Mum's house, “I guess I was in a world of my own.” As she steps through, I can't help noticing that she's wearing some kind of dark blue uniform. “Have you been at work?”

She turns and points proudly at a logo on one side of her chest. “I got a job a while back at the Maple Cornell Hotel in town. I told you the other night, remember?”

“Um... Maybe, yeah.” Shutting the door, I can't help feeling as if I'm in a complete daze. Still, it's a good job Karen is here, or I'd probably end up watching the video again. As I slip out of my coat and scarf, however, I can tell that something seems to be bothering her, and it only takes a fraction of a second for me to guess what's on her mind. “So you've seen it?” I ask.

“Seen what?”

“The video.”

She stares at me, her eyes filled with panic.

“It's okay,” I tell her. “I get it, the damn thing is -”

“All I saw was some screen-grabs,” she blurts out. “I'm sorry, Anna, I didn't mean to -”

“It's fine.”

“They were just on this tech site,” she continues, almost as if she's panicking. “They ran a news story about the video leaking online, but the shots were totally, like, pixelated in places to cover your face and...” She pauses. “It was just shots from when you were sitting around by some camp-fire, they didn't show anything from the bad parts.”

“Huh.” Leading her through to the kitchen, I'm momentarily gripped by the urge to scream. Still, that urge fades quickly, and as I set the kettle on to boil I realize that in some weird way I actually feel relieved. I knew the video would get out there, and at least now it's done.

“Are you okay?”

I turn to her. “I'm fine.”

“Being fine in a situation like this is definitely
not
fine,” she tells me.

“I found my spare nose,” I point out with a forced smile. “I guess it's not spare anymore. I've ordered a new spare one online. The company that makes them already has a scan of -”

“Aren't you freaking out?”

“About what?”

She stares at me. “Well, I mean... People seeing you like that.”

“I can't change anything,” I reply. “If screaming and ranting and having some kind of breakdown would undo what happened, or even just undo the video getting out, then I'd go right ahead and scream for as long as necessary. But it won't do a damn thing, so what's the point?”

“What about -”

“I had fun the other night,” I add. “Out with you and your friends, I mean. I'm sorry I got freaked when my nose fell off. I know I probably should have eased myself into things a little more slowly, but it was still pretty cool. I learned a valuable lesson.”

I wait for her to reply, for her to say something normal, but there are tears in her eyes.

“Don't cry,” I tell her. “Please, Karen, if I'm not crying, you definitely don't get to.”

She sniffs the tears back. “I know,” she says, her voice trembling a little, “it's just... I hate everything about what's happening to you.”

“It's over,” I reply, as the kettle finishes boiling. “The video coming out was the last thing that those assholes could do to hurt me, even from beyond the grave. It would've been hanging over my head otherwise, I'd have always been wondering when it'd leak. Now I know, and I feel like there's a clean slate now.” I pause for a moment. “I think you should watch it.”

Her eyes widen with shock. “What?”

“I mean it. I think you should watch it all the way through. That way, it's over and done with. Instead of imagining what it's like, you should just watch the damn thing.”

She shakes her head. “I can't...”

“Why not?” I ask.

“No way could I
ever
watch it,” she stammers. “I mean, the idea... I just... No!”

“Do you want to watch it
with
me?” I ask.

“No!”

“There's no point hiding from it. I'm not ashamed.” That's not true. I'm very ashamed. I just feel like if I keep saying those words, eventually they'll come true.

She stares at me for a moment. “Anna, have you spoken to your psychiatrist about this?”

“Just a couple of hours ago.”

“And what did he -”

“Pretty much the same as you,” I continue, interrupting her. “I guess people want me to drop to the floor and start weeping, but that's the last thing I'm going to do. Instead, I want to just focus on the future.” I glance at the logo on her uniform. “So are there any jobs going at that hotel?”

“Jobs?”

“Work. Ways to make money.”

“But...” She pauses again. “Anna, I really don't think you should be throwing yourself into things quite so hard. I mean, do you really want to be -”

“Like a normal person?” Turning, I grab two cups, slip a tea bag into each of them, and then pour hot water. My hand is shaking, but not too much. I know I'm being a little unreasonable, but I figure I can still get out there and try to be like everyone else. Not partying, not going to pubs, but just slipping into some kind of routine. Going out the other night was a mistake, but trying to find a job is a step in the right direction. “I don't want to live with my mother forever,” I continue. “Now that really
would
be unhealthy. I know I need to ease into life a little more gently, and that's fine, but just a quiet, relatively easy job wouldn't be too bad. Besides, it'd be better than sitting around here with loads of time on my hands, over-thinking everything.” I slide a cup toward her. “Trust me, that's way worse. I need to keep busy.”

“But -”

“And I'm not some kind of emotional wreck,” I add. “Unless you think I'm hiding something and I'd go mad at work and smash everything up?”

She stares at me. “No,” she says finally, “I think you're... You're amazing!”

“I'm not amazing,” I tell her, stirring my tea. “I'm just me, and I refuse to let myself get crushed by what happened at the cabin. So what kind of jobs are going at the hotel?”

***

Rolling over in bed, I look across my darkened room and just about manage to see my laptop on the desk. That video file is still on the hard-disk, waiting for me to watch again.

Nearby, something creaks in the darkness.

I hold my breath.

Jennifer?

I wouldn't be surprised. I'm sure my messed-up subconscious mind is going to keep throwing up little treats for me, but in a way I'm looking forward to seeing her again. It'll give me a chance to reject her, to make a stand and show that I'm not scared anymore. I feel as if, by rejecting the idea of her presence, I can take a step forward.

Another creak.

“Everyone thinks you're so innocent,” her voice hisses in my thoughts. “What if they knew what you did after the cabin burned down?”

“I didn't do anything,” I whisper.

Instinctively, I reach over and switch on the lamp next to my bed. There's no sign of anyone in the room, of course, so I switch the lamp off again and take a deep breath. Maybe I should have accepted Doctor Lewis's offer of a prescription for sleeping pills, but the last thing I want is to end up taking loads of medication. I want to be normal, although maybe being pilled-up to the gills
is
normal these days.

“I didn't do anything after the cabin burned down,” I say out loud, just in case someone can hear me. “I just walked away.”

Another creak in the darkness.

This time, I don't touch the lamp. Instead, I lean over to my desk and grab my laptop. I have to watch a little more of that goddamn video, just to put my mind at rest. Opening the lid, I bring up the video player and grab my headphones. This is my final act of closure. Once I've seen the video all the way from the first frame to the last, I won't have to think about it again.

Once I've started the playback from the beginning, I force myself to keep my eyes fixed on the screen as I watch myself being picked up at the airport. I still feel as if I was horribly naive back then, but I'm feeling less and less angry. There's no way I could have expected what was going to happen at the cabin. Really, watching the video again is a cathartic act, something that'll really be good for my mental health.

Just this one time, and then it's over forever.