FLESH covered LIES

The Uneasiness of Secrecy

Tapping out the last word I read through my work. I didn't quite feel I had caught the creepy essence I had been trying to get across. Sighing, I took another sip of coffee and readjusted my position on the library cushions. I began to make small adaptions to my writing, hoping changing a couple of words could give a different feel to the piece. As I did so, Tyler came rushing into the room, his complexion flustered, red in his cheeks and his blonde curls voluminous and bouncing.

"Hey" I said, smirking at his excitement. "What have you been up to?"
Still panting Tyler replied, "Mum was chasing me through the house, I think she's lost me now though". He giggled and plonked himself next to me on the window seat.
"What are you writing? Is it that soppy nonsense again?"
I quickly angled the screen on my laptop away from him.
"Yeah it is. Much too boring for you." And I tapped him on the nose scoldingly. I didn't want him reading my horror ever. Mum would get mad.  Tyler proceeded to attempt to tickle me instead, he was obviously bored again. I tutted and looked up from the screen. His blue eyes were bright with joy. This move certainly was a good change for him. This was the side of him that the schools didn't see. This peaceful and violent free side where he wasn't provoked to do the things he did. And I loved him for it.

Tyler left just under 5 minutes later, probably to sprint around the house and find more people to annoy. Once again I was left with my flawed writing. I read and reread it over and over.

His eyes were sharp, and his mouth a knife, the words following its movement always cutting so deep. In fact, his whole face was a collection of blades, its soul purpose to scar me. And then, in the blink of an eye---

I ran my hand through my hair, thinking hard. My writing was badly structured, it had bad description and it just felt wrong. And then, in the blink of an eye, just like my story told, an idea sprang to mind. I copied and pasted my work into an email, added Mr Sed and a few of my old school friends as the recipients, tapped a quick writing SOS message, clicked send, and waited. It wasn't often that I asked for help outside of class, but sometimes I needed a second pair of eyes to help me out, particularly if I was trying a genre I wasn't familiar with.

I didn't wait for long. In seconds, my laptop spat out a bing, and an email popped on through. It was a satisfying moment, knowing that someone cared, and had some advice that I could take into consideration. Opening it, I read:

Hey Gerda,
Sorry I'm busy right now but when I get the chance I'll get back to you on your work. Talk later,
Mr Sed

Great. Looked like they had already forgotten me back home. Disappointment spread through my like a bad disease. I shut the lid of the battered computer and sat in silence. By the looks of things, I definitely wasn't going to make any progress until I had some feedback. A headache was beginning to throb, a constant drone stopping my creative juices flowing. I rested my head against the window, and coolness spread across my mind.

Shock hit me like electricity rippling through my body. There, on the grass, just like I had seen in what I thought was a dream, was the bald man. This time he wasn't gone in a second, he stayed there, crouching with those evil glowing red eyes, just as bright as they were last time, even in daylight. I so badly wanted to look away, but I knew that if I did so, my mind would easily convince itself that he had never been there. I swallowed and concentrated on absorbing and remembering every detail of the creature. He was wearing all black, a smart and respectable suit which was perfect and clean. His skin was stretched over his face, as if it was struggling to cover his bones, and whatever other secrets the creature held behind those blank staring eyes.

It look as if there was some kind of device sticking out of his jacket pocket, with a blinking red light, but I didn't get a chance to see it, as the bald man gave me one last taunting smirk and vanished.

I needed to tell someone. My parents wouldn't believe me. They had always banned me from horror films as a child, not just for Tyler's sake, but because they found them offensive, especially my father. He wouldn't even allow Doctor Who on the TV. It didn't help that I didn't know him as well as I should. He was so neat and proper, I rarely saw him because of all the business he seemed to do. I had missed out on the father daughter bonding time that other children had. Maybe this new house could help change that.

In short, my parents would never believe me. They would tell me to stick to my stories, and not allow fantasy to become apart of my reality. And with Mr Sed being "busy" and none of my old school friends replying to my email, there was only one other person I could think to tell.