The Shrinker

CHAPTER ONE (PART-3)

It wasn't until after breakfast, after a typically uncomfortable freezing shower, after she got dressed into her uniform and gathered all her school things into her backpack, that Jamie noticed the next bizarre thing on her birthday.

Jamie hastily said her goodbyes to Senna and gave her heartfelt promises that she'd be back as soon as possible. She was powerless to resist giving him a brief petting session for two minutes which left him purring, but finally after giving her Sphynx a quick kiss on the head, she was out the door and locking it securely.

The uniform Jamie wore consisted of a black suit jacket (with a red ant sigil), a white shirt, a black and red tie, a black skirt, long black stockings and black shoes; all required to be immaculate, polished and tidy to the utmost.

Even if she was still attending the exact same school in sixth form, Jamie had hoped the dress code would've been more relaxed for college level students, but like so many other times, reality had bitterly disappointed her.

She wiped away traces of tears from her eyes, feeling annoyed with herself for showing weakness. She sorely missed the uncle she once had. Whatever he'd become he remained the only human family member she'd ever known.

Then Jamie finally saw the back of her left hand and gaped in astonishment.

The four long slashes Senna had clawed into the hand were almost entirely gone. There was enough of a trace to show they'd existed to begin with, but they'd shrunk to about a fifth of their size and faded to white.

Jamie pressed a finger on them; there was no sense of pain or discomfort.

Small cuts DO heal naturally over time, but THIS is totally fucking off the wall bonkers, Jamie thought disbelievingly, To fade so fast like this...

She'd been half worried the scratches would take weeks to fade or that they'd scar, blister, or even get infected. That she'd require some special ointment or a tetanus shot. Jamie had read such tales from cat owners on the Internet, but never anything like this.

First that nightmare, then the spider, now this...something weird's happening here...likely, I've finally gone off the rails. Guess it was always a matter of- -

"Yo, 'emo' bitch! I 'high-key' wants a word with yers, 'cause you been making me feel nothing but 'salty' lately!" screeched a high-pitched croaky voice from behind, making her jump. Jamie turned, resisting the urge to slap her head in dismay, but a low groan escaped her.

Oh bloody fantastic, JUST what I needed to cap off a truly wonderful start to the day. A crazed lecture from THIS daft, deranged old kook. What in the holy fuck is she going on about this time?

Elsa Finley, the tenant who lived in the flat beside Jamie's, was ninety-three years old and stood hunched at just under five feet tall, with buggy eyes, a short but wild fuzz of white hair, an ancient face with great thick wrinkles and an alarmingly underweight body with sagging skin in places.

She dressed normally enough and looked on the surface just like any elderly woman, but an apparent long history of mental illnesses, coupled with being widowed a dozen years prior, had driven her batty.

In Jamie's case, the old lady apparently believed teenagers only used slang to socialise and researched it, badly, with that in mind. While there was nothing wrong with young people talking slang, hearing it from her elderly neighbour was bizarre. Uncomfortably she sensed a mad desperation to be young again from her.

"What can I do for you, Mrs Finley?" Jamie asked wearily, in resignation.

"Youse gotta 'chill' down that 'Moggy' of yers!" the old lady complained, her words too absurd for Jamie to take remotely seriously, "Your Mog's so 'extra' with all that 'meow meow' it makes, 'no cap'. I want some peace, 'ya dig'?"

Please, for the love of god, can somebody from a care home or looney bin come and take this bloody nut job? Least get me a fucking translator here.

"Mrs Finley, neither me nor anyone I know actually talks like- -"

"If you go 'disrespecting' me, acting all 'sus', I'll get my 'homies' and then we'll 'clap back' and see what the man has to say 'bout it. You feeling me?" the old woman barked, poking a long thin finger sharply at Jamie.

Jamie cringed, "Seriously, cut it out, it's kinda offensive- -"

"I ain't no 'simp', fool," Mrs Finley told her icily, "You 'totes' feeling me?"

I'm not talking to a human being here, Jamie thought wearily, I'm talking to an alien in human skin posing rather pathetically as one.

"So just to summarise...you want me to keep my cat quiet and me to behave like a good little girl...or else you'll gather up some support and go squeal to the council...is that it?" Jamie asked politely, with a falsely sweet tone in her voice. Mrs Finley nodded stiffly with an ugly scowl.

Jamie gave her a mock curtesy, "Consider it done. If we're through, I got to go ASAP. Next time you want to talk to me...try English. The plain old version."

Mrs Finley strode furiously to her door. As she opened it, she glared back at Jamie, "Our beef ain't 'hashtag' done wit' yet!" She shut the door firmly behind her. Jamie gave it the finger.

What a balmy, senile old cow, she thought, The sooner I can earn enough for me and Senna to leave this nuthouse of crackheads and ex-cons, the better...

Her block of flats, Collins House, was three floors tall, four homes a floor. Its hall and stairs were entirely white, decrepit and decayed in many places with signs of poor maintenance. It was eerily quiet and hollow. Jamie was at least thankful her flat was on the ground floor and closest to the entrance.

Jamie glanced back in awe at her left hand, confirming to herself she hadn't imagined the marks had shrunk so fast. With no idea what to make of it, she chose to put it down to a bizarre occurrence of good fortune.

Putting it out of her mind, Jamie fastened her backpack on tight, punched in the 4-digit exit code and slung open the door, walking out into town with no inkling of the drama, chaos, romance, devastation, tragedy, joy, discovery and horror that would befall her and the town that year...