The Headmaster

Phantom Opportunity

Becca slapped Liam; hard. It caused her fingers to tingle and palms burn as the sound echoed around the dilapidated bedroom. "I am not, nor will I ever drop my standards low enough to contemplate touching any part of your druggie ass."

"What did you say?" Liam raised his hand and pressed a finger to the red mark that had blossomed on his face.

"Do you think I'm stupid or blind? You're off the waggon and halfway to the gutter, I'm not going to give you the chance to drag me down with you." Becca grabbed her camera from the nightstand and stuffed it into her bag. She looked around for the rest of her equipment, snatching it up and throwing objects into the side pouches of her backpack.

Liam stood in the doorway, arms outstretched to prevent her leaving. "I made you Becca," he sneered, "I can unmake you too. No one will follow your frigid ass when I tell them all about you. All those nightmares will become real."

"My nightmares pale in comparison to your proposition. The thought is enough to require intensive therapy," she pretended to gag as she tried to push through the gap under his arm.

He thwarted her efforts to escape. His arms closed around her waist and pulled her in close, close enough to whisper in her ear "I know all about him."

Becca looked at him through the corner of her eye, her composure faltering slightly as she saw the wild look in his eyes. "A lot of people know, "She said quietly.

"You're damaged goods."

A fire burned in her gut, it gave her the power to struggle loose enough to send her knee to a mighty collision course with his groin. She felt him wilt, drawing back away from her. "Takes one to know one honey. Birds of a feather and all that, but at least I am aware of my flaws and try to improve myself. I don't spend every waking moment of my day so lost in a drug-induced haze I forget to bathe and go to the bathroom."

He made an effort to lunge at her, but the ache in his testicles was too great. He collapsed in a heap, calling her every derogatory word his tweaked mind could muster.

She ran down the stairs, dodging the rotten timbers and missing planks. Gabbing the remainder of her equipment while Liam was incapacitated. She made for the front door. The ground in front of her lengthened, she sped up but so did the distortion. Her hand reaching for the handle that kept slipping further away from her.

The door flew open, another bedroom filled the space where the outside should have been. Recognition sent her into a skidding halt. She tried to run but the polarity had shifted, the door was sucking her in now. Drawing her closer until it ate her whole.

"No, not here. I don't want to be here." She closed her eyes tight.

"Don't be scared Rebecca, I won't hurt you." A voice crooned as if talking to a young child.

'Wake up Becca.'She thought to herself as she pinched her forearm as tight as possible. "Someone wake me up!" She screamed it at the top of her lungs as something slithered up behind her.

The letterbox rattled loudly, followed by the dull thuds of letters on carpet, and the final slam of the flap. Becca jolted awake. Her breathing heavy as she surveyed the room. A thick layer of cold sweat coated her flesh, soaked through her nightshirt and dampened her messy hair. She clambered out of bed, feverish to get as much distance from her nightmares as possible.

The postman had delivered her a stark reminder of her living nightmare. Every bill she opened kicked her in the gut. Twisting her insides with self-doubt and setting off the eerie echo of her mother's voice in her head 'You can always come home you know."

"No I can't," She said as she shoved the fresh demands for money on top of the old ones. It was then that she noticed one remaining envelope as if her self-affirming statement had manifested it. She turned it over in her hand to expose the return address. Media City.

Her hands fumbled as she scrambled to open the envelope, unsure which one of the 20 production companies had deemed her worthy enough of a written response. Stomach knotted and ears ringing from lack of oxygen she held her breath as she unfolded the letter and began to read.

Infinity production group; she hadn't heard of them, but held out hope until she saw the second set of logos. Guiding light - 'Real Hauntings'. "Ugh," she said as she flung the letter towards the bin. "I'm done with the paranormal." Annoyed, she set off to the kitchen for a calming cup of tea. As she walked back through from the kitchen her foot collided with the metal wastebasket. She cursed it and hopped to the sofa, trying not to spill too much of her tea.

It stared at her from across the room. An innocuous piece of paper she had refused to read past the letterheads. She set down her too hot beverage and snatched up the letter. It was an offer. Subject to an interview the time and date of which was just days away. "No money to get there," she crumpled the paper up this time, "What a shame." The ball hit the rim of the recently righted bin and bounced back towards her feet. Cursing as she marched she snatched the paper from the ground and rammed it home in the main recycling bin, not noticing as an empty tin of beans bit her thumb.

She was cleaning the wound when her mother rang, she watched the blood flow in a ribbon through the cold water. Her slippery hands struggled to turn off the tap. She gave 'real hauntings' one final obscenity as the water stopped and ran to pick up the phone before it could get to the fifth ring. "Sorry Mum," she walked the phone into the living room, "I know you worry when I take too long to answer, I was just..."

"Any news?" Her mother interrupted, excitement heavy in her voice.

Becca was shocked, not as shocked as she was the first time her mother sensed something was going on, but still surprised enough that she couldn't quite find words.

"I was hoping perhaps you had gotten a proper job by now. Filming a few weddings are not going to pay you enough to maintain that flat." The excitement had dropped, and a slight air of disappointment lingered. "You can always come home, Becca."

"I can't," Becca said through dry lips. Her mouth had turned into a desert.

"It could be temporary..."

"No." Becca closed her eyes and rubbed her temples.

"You are not listening to me Rebecca Louise Thompson, and it is about time you did."

Becca opened her eyes and sat up straighter.

"All you are doing at this point is eating through your savings, and for what? Because I said one thing you didn't like. You cannot live like this, you deserve better." Her mother's voice wavered.

The audible sound of tears stabbed Becca in the gut, enough to cause a prickling in her own eyes. An apology sat mutely on her tongue.

"After everything that has happened to us, everything we have lost, I don't want to lose you too." She blew her nose into a tissue. "I want you to be happy Becca, but you are fighting a losing battle. You could be a female Spielberg and they wouldn't hire you because you have a Vagina." She coughed at the crudeness of her own words. "Or worse, some would lure you into things under false promises, it's all over the news."

Becca sat listening to her mother's sobs, her eyes lingering on the growing pile of unpaid bills. Another month and she wouldn't have the money for the rent. She sat there, her ears shut off from her mother's desperate pleas, as her mind contemplated her two options. Before she had a chance to decide her gut took control of her mouth, "I've got an interview," She cringed as her mother's scream of delight deafened her right ear; still audible at arm's length. "Don't get your hopes up, it's not the next big blockbuster."

"It's better than nothing sweetie. It could be just the stepping stone you need."