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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1335899-Black-and-white-stripes
by Jenna
Rated: E · Short Story · Drama · #1335899
It was much more sinister than that. Was it really? I thought it was quite funny.
Drastic action had to be taken. That closet had caused its last injury. I couldn’t stand not knowing what was in there. It just had to be done. Sure wish I hadn’t now. The dark, heavy door that stood in the way of my past was about to be opened. It was shut tight, I wish I’d left it.
The cold, metal door handle wouldn’t turn. I’d tried to twist it but there was no hope. It was stubbornly staying put. Then I decided to break the door down with something heavy. Great idea, wish I hadn’t thought of it.
But you did, didn’t you. I didn’t help you. That was all your doing.
Well I didn’t think it would turn out like this. How could I have known what I would find in that dark place? I was excited, I was finally going to unlock the mystery. Anyway, you egged me on.
I was just messing with you, and I didn’t know what was in there either.
It doesn’t matter now.
Yes it does.
Well I can’t do anything about it, can I?
I got the fire extinguisher. It was cold, and heavy. I almost dropped it. I had to drag it across the bristly carpet, it was too much to carry. The distance between the hall and the staircase was very small. I wasn’t as strong then.
That’s for sure.
It took all my strength to lift it to shoulder height. Then with a tremendous swing, it crashed into the door. Another swing and the door splintered to pieces. It felt great. I was pleased with myself. 
It was dark inside. There was no source of light from what I could see. I had to get a torch from the drawer in the kitchen. Second one on the right, three drawers down. It was a good torch. Lit up the whole closet.
Not that it was very big. 
At first, all I could see was boxes and old clothes. I had to rummage deeper to find anything interesting.
It was interesting, alright.
There were some old photos and some documents in one of the boxes. The photos were black and white. Well, most of them. It smelled of musty, stale bread.
With a hint of dead animal. 
I was surprised a bunch of bats didn’t fly out and start attacking me.
That would have been funny.
A black box was just underneath some old clothes. It had the worst smell out of all of them. When I opened it I nearly choked, the smell was so strong. There was a dead rat inside; it must have been in there for quite a while. I just threw the box to one side. I didn’t care that the rat had fallen out.  It lay inches away from my feet.
Did it bite you?
It was dead. 
The pile of clothes was sitting on another two boxes. They were bigger and just a plain cardboard brown. I think they were from a TV/VCR package. They weren’t a very good brand, though. Just one of those cheap, lousy ‘You need us’ companies. 
And that matters a lot.
I lifted the clothes out and placed them on the bottom of the staircase. Then I took out the first box and moved it to where I could get a better light. My arm was tired from holding the torch.
Poor thing.
The lid slid off easily. Really wish I hadn’t opened it. The stuff at the top of the box was okay. Just some old newspaper clippings and a coupon for some free washing detergent. The clippings were about some flood in an unknown continent. I ignored them and kept digging. Deeper and deeper, more and more junk. But then I found something that changed my life forever. I stared at it for ages, not being able to take in what I saw. It was another newspaper clipping, but it wasn’t about floods. It was much more sinister than that. 
Was it really? I thought it was quite funny. Your face, that is.
As I read the narrow print my heart raced, beating faster and faster. It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t.
Oh but it was.
How could I have done something like that? No, I wouldn’t believe it. 
But it’s true. You killed her, don’t try to hide it. And you didn’t hide it, did you? You turned yourself in, you were so stupid.

I looked at the black ink mess that was supposed to be my next big story. What I saw was not a story, or at least the beginning of one, but a mass of words that formed nothing more than complete rubbish. I lifted it from the old desk which was half eaten by termites, and scrunched it up into a tight, paper ball. I hurled it across the room towards the wicker basket I used as a bin. It bounced off the brick wall, hit the side of the basket and landed a couple of feet away. It was unlike me to get angry at something as small as this and since I had no energy I left it sitting there as a reminder of how terrible I was at writing. I picked up the pen I’d been using and slipped it over my right ear like those men in movies I’d seen did with cigarettes. I stretched my arms back and folded them behind my head, resting for a few minutes. It was definitely time I had a break from the stresses of story writing, and yes, there are a lot of them. Becoming an author, or my interpretation of one, was not all it was cracked up to be. I had imagined myself living in a huge house on the outskirts of New York, or possibly by the beach with thousands of champagne bottles and parties every Saturday night. Instead, I lived in a small, dingy, one bedroom apartment right in the heart of the packed city with a broken air conditioning unit and barely enough money for a couple of retired pensioners to live off. The glamorous lifestyle I had hoped for was, therefore, slightly nonexistent. And don’t think I wasn’t warned. My parents had told me often enough that being an author was not a great prospect.
“Jake, you’re throwing your life away, son.”           
Of course, I didn’t listen. Who does listen to their parents? My brother, who now has stacks of money, a loving wife and way too many children, became a lawyer. He loved to rub it in my face how he had a better life than his older brother. I couldn’t even hold down a girlfriend for very long, let alone a steady income. It’s all well and good saying that you’re going to be something important but once you are at the place where everything is supposed to happen and all your dreams are about to come true you lose that childish idea of how wonderful life is. That’s when you realise that the life you expected is just a dream. Nothing more than a useless hope that lives inside of you for years until it finally dies out and your life and everything in it becomes stale. But don’t let that get you down. If worse really does come to worse, than you can always rely on your selfish, spiteful family who think of you as nothing more than a failure. Maybe not then. 

         You failed her, left her to die.  You don’t deserve to live.  Her family grieves for her whilst you sit here, rotting away in this godforsaken hell hole.
         
My stomach soon let me know it was time for lunch. The incessant growling had woken me up from a well needed nap. I studied the contents of my small fridge and grumbled. Being broke was not as easy as it looked. Realising that my lunch would have to wait, as there was a desperate need for some grocery shopping, I grabbed my jacket and keys then headed out the door. I discovered on my way a market that was going on just down the road from my apartment. I took the liberty of looking around and my mouth began watering at the sight of all that delicious, and not too expensive, market food. My stomach was growling so loudly I wondered whether I had swallowed a lion the night before without realising it. The smell of hot, spicy curries wafted over to me and soon my feet were moving in the direction of the tantalising smell. I was gobbling down the reasonably priced Indian food just seconds later when I remembered that I was supposed to be buying groceries. Indian style curry was definitely not an essential grocery item. Reluctantly, I dumped the rest in the bin and headed over to the nearest Wal-Mart.
It’s a good thing I did, otherwise I might never have met Katie. Then again, she does live in the same apartment block as me, but that’s beside the point. She was so beautiful, standing by the magazine racks. I couldn’t help but stare. Then she disappeared down an aisle. I had to follow her. The sound of bustling mums trying to get their weekly shopping in and screaming kids running loose blocked the sound of my slightly squeaky trainers.  I had completely forgotten about my own shopping by this point.  It didn’t seem to matter anymore.  Even though she had been living on the same floor as me for the past six months, I had never even said hello to her.  She stopped at the salad dressings and I was quick at the mark.  Casually, I sidled up to her and pretended I was looking at the dressings like her. Then I said in my coolest voice ‘Hello.’ She ignored me and took her selection to the small trolley on the other side. Undeterred, I again tried to catch her attention. This time I took a less subtle approach.  Again she pretended not to hear me and was off with her trolley again. Her flowery skirt swished as she moved and her flip flops smacked her heels as she walked across the tiled floor. I gave it one last chance, losing all subtlety as I practically bounded over to her. 
         ‘Hey, I couldn’t help but notice you back there. You seem to like salads. I’m a big fan of the lettuce leaf myself and I would be more than happy to share my expertise with you,’ I stood between her and the herbal spices. She laughed, having given up her ice queen ways at last.
         ‘I like your persistence. It’s very amusing.’ She smiled, showing perfect, pearl white teeth. I grinned and ran my hand through my dark hair. 
         ‘So, is that a yes? Or will I have to try harder? I’ve been told I’m great with the puppy dog look. Maybe down on the knees, pure begging is more your thing,’ I turned on my quirky charm to try and impress her. 
         ‘I’m flattered, honest,’ she laughed, ‘But I hardly know you. I’d rather get to know you over dinner before I tossed my salad leaves with you.’
‘Granted. Pick you up at seven?’ I asked.
‘Sure, why not?’ she smiled.
‘Great, see you then.’ I bounced off happily.
‘Wait, you don’t even know where I live!’ she called after me.
         ‘Sure I do, you live three doors down from me,’ I told her before running out of the shop. I crossed the road outside the car park and stopped. I was holding an empty basket. I went back inside, feeling incredibly stupid, and this time I did buy some food.

You killed her.          
No, I didn’t. Why would I? I didn’t kill her, I didn’t!
You can’t remember? It was the accident, wiped your memory clean of everything. And when we did find out the truth, you couldn’t handle it. So you told someone. You broke down and told them. That’s why we’re here. Because of you we are both suffering. It’s all your fault.
No!
You’re crazy! You know that? Why else would you have killed her, and why would you have turned yourself in? Couldn’t live with your conscience once you knew what you had done.
I had to find out more. So I kept looking. The sweat dripped down my face. I was blind with rage at myself. I still wouldn’t believe it. She was so beautiful. There was a picture of her in the clipping, and one of me next to her. They called me a killer, a murderer. 
And suddenly I was on the run? All this time, I had been hiding from the police because I had killed her. But how could I, I didn’t know.
It wasn’t me, it was you!
No, I did nothing. I think I’d remember otherwise.
But you do remember, you remember everything. I was the one in the accident. 
But I’m always with you. You can’t live without me. And I was there that day. That car hit me too. We felt the same pain.
         
         Standing outside Katie’s door was torture. I was so nervous. All that stuff about salads was just me bluffing. I never usually acted that confident. In fact, I’m usually the complete opposite. Even in high school, when the dances at school were held in the auditorium I was always the one left standing at the door or leaning against a wall watching everyone else have fun. The crazy lights, deafening music. It just wasn’t me. I reached my hand out to knock on the door but stopped mid air and pulled my hand back down. I took a huge breath and tried again. The loud thud of my hand hitting the hard wood clipped my ears and almost made me jump. I was so nervous I almost knocked the door down. My mouth had gone dry.  The uneasiness I felt worsened. I could taste the cold sweat as it slid down my forehead and onto my dry lips. The door swung open and immediately I could smell strawberries and peaches. Katie was wearing a summery dress and sandals. It was just as well she wasn’t wearing anything fancier, I was only taking her to the coffee shop. Not exactly five star service. 
         ‘Your chariot awaits, my lady,’ I bent forward slightly and offered her my arm. She took it gracefully and we walked over to the lift. We didn’t say much during the short drive to ‘Alberotto’s’. The outside sounds were enough to occupy us for the 10 minute duration that we were actually in my ancient car. But once we were outside in the fresh, cooling air with trees and bustling people, nothing could stop us. We just talked about everything and almost forgot to order. When the waitress came over to the table we had taken out in the sunshine and asked us what we wanted I was actually surprised to hear another voice. She waited patiently as we made up our minds.  The question was definitely decaf or not decaf? In the end we just ordered a straight coffee for her and a latte for me.
‘I’m sure I haven’t seen you around the apartment block before,’ Katie frowned, obviously trying to remember.
         ‘Ah, well, that would be because I am extremely good at not being seen. Yes, it is almost as if I can turn myself invisible,’ I told her, trying to look sincere. She just laughed.
         ‘You’re killing me with that idiotic humour,’ I laughed, my grinning face hid my anxiety. Her beautiful blue eyes sparkled in the warm sun as she swept her long, brown hair back with her hand. Then she took my hand in hers and looked at me with her sharp eyes.
         ‘You are so sweet and funny. I really like you and now we that we know each other a little better I think I am ready to savour one of your excellent salads,’ she smiled sweetly.
         ‘There might be a slight problem with that,’ She frowned and I missed the cheeky grin she was hiding, ‘You see I kind of made up all that stuff about salads. I’m sorry, but tossing lettuce leaves really is not my speciality.’ 
I looked at her apprehensively, waiting for her to bite my head off or get angry but she just smiled again, those beautiful white teeth shining.
         ‘I know, silly! I’ve known all along that you only said that to impress me,’ She laughed. I raised my eyebrows at her.  What she said was true, I hated salads but how could she have known? It must have been her brilliant female instincts.  They always managed to suss me out.
         ‘Well I guess in that case, we can talk more over some proper dinner at a nice restaurant.  What do you say to that?’ I gave her my proposal without an ounce of doubt that she would accept.
         ‘Sure, as long as I can have a salad on the side,’ I tilted my head to the side and she giggled softly.
         ‘Okay, but I’m not going to help you eat it.’

         The next day I was woken in the early hours of the afternoon to the sound of my phone ringing.  I cursed softly and turned over, unwilling to get up just at that moment.  The persistent ringing, though, was not going to give up and so I eventually climbed out of bed and drudged over to the kitchen where the phone was.  I picked up the receiver and sat down heavily on a broken stool.
         ‘Hello,’ I said sleepily through the wrong end of the phone.  I realised my mistake and adjusted the phone in my hands.  Then I said ‘hello’ again in a slightly perkier voice.          
         ‘Hi, it’s me,’ The voice of a young woman called down the line, ‘I just wanted to see how you were and to find out if you were doing anything this evening.  I was hoping that if you weren’t busy we could...’
         ‘I’m sorry but who are you?’ I interrupted, very confused.
         ‘It’s Katie, silly!  Honestly, sometimes Jake I wonder whether you are actually on the same planet as everybody else,’ Katie giggled, ‘I’ve been out shopping all morning so I couldn’t come around and see you in person.’ 
When I realised who it was my dreariness slipped away and I began to check my mental diary to see if I was supposed to be doing anything that evening, or that day.
‘I don’t think I have anything special planned, unless you count slobbing around in front of the TV in my underwear with a take away curry as something to put everything else on hold for,’ I joked, fiddling with the cord of the phone.
         ‘Well in that case, how about we go and see a movie?  I know this great one called ‘Boy, Girl and Baby’.  These two love crazy teens decide they want to have a child and then it’s a roller coaster ride through their...’  I had stopped listening by this point and was busy watching an old pensioner attempt to cross the busy road below.  It was much more interesting than Katie’s detailed analysis of the chick flick she so desperately wanted to see.
         ‘Okay, okay, I give in.  What are the times?’ I relented, having been tortured to boredom for long enough, pretty ironic since this movie was supposed to be two hours long.  Katie squealed excitedly and began reading out a list of all the times the movie was on that evening and where.

Are you cold, I’m cold.  It is really cold in here.
Stop changing the subject.
I’m not.  I’m just saying it is very cold in here.  You know, they should make these walls more insulated.
Well, you can tell them that.
I don’t want to annoy them.  They would just get angry with me.
Then quit complaining.
I knew I had to do something.  At first I thought I could live with it, but it was tearing me up inside.  I eventually gave in to my guilt and went to the police.  I turned myself in.  That’s why I’m here, in this horrible place.
That’s why we’re both here.  We’re in this together, right through to the end, mate.  Thanks.
The food isn’t as bad as I thought it would be.  In fact, I quite like it.
Good for you.  You’re going to have to put up with it for the rest of your life.
It’s the beds I don’t like.  It would be okay if the mattresses were slightly bigger.  But I can never get any sleep here.
The mattresses aren’t the problem.
Well, they don’t help.
You really didn’t think did you?  Turning yourself in, who does that?
I thought I was doing the right thing.  And who knows where I’d be now otherwise?
Somewhere better than this, I’m sure.
You don’t know that.  I could be dead.  I could have killed myself.
Like you killed her.
No. 
But you did kill her, you know you did.  Even if you can’t remember there is still all that evidence linking to you.  I bet your hands were a bloody mess, just like her.  It must have taken you ages to get all that blood off your clothes.  I bet you dumped her in a river.  You left her there, so she would never be found.  But alas, they did find her.  They didn’t find you, though.  You did their work for them.  Stupid thing to do really.
And then you have to think about her poor family.  I bet she had a boyfriend, too.  They were probably engaged, but she was quite young.  Too young to be married, or to have kids, or to die.
Shut up!  Just leave me alone!
What’s wrong, are you afraid?  Are you scared of the truth?  Or are you actually scared of yourself? 
Oh yes, I think I hit a nerve there.  Why else would you be shaking like that?  Why else would you be breathing so heavily?  Why else would you be shivering with the cold, uninviting darkness that awaits you?  There is nothing left for you here.  You know that, and it scares you.  It scares you because you don’t know what you are capable of.  Maybe if you weren’t in here you would have killed yourself, or maybe it would be safer out there.  Because out there you can forget what you have done, but in here there is a constant reminder of the past.  The blood coloured past that you couldn’t get rid of
No, no, no! 
Look at you with your shifty eyes.  No one is going to hurt you like you hurt her.  Don’t worry.
You’re loving this. 
What?  Sitting in a dark, unfriendly prison cell?
You love doing this to me.  You love the fact that you can hurt me without touching me, without even being there.  Well I hate you!
Don’t say that.  Can’t we work things out?  You see, I love you.  I love you’re murderous ways.  I love you’re crazy mood swings.  You love me too, don’t you?
No, and I never will.  Just leave me alone!  I hate you!
I know you don’t mean it, you’ll come around sooner or later.  And anyway, even if you don’t, you’re still stuck with me.  Forever. 

         ‘Forever?  Forever is along time, Katie,’ I was still in shock from her announcement.
         ‘But when you love someone, and I do love you, forever just doesn’t seem long enough.’  Katie had just asked me to move in with her. 
         ‘Aren’t we taking things a little too fast?’ I hardly saw the point of it.  I mean, we lived three doors away from each other, and we had stayed overnight at each other’s apartments often enough in the past two months.  Why change all that?  But I did want to make her happy, and this seemed like the easiest option.  Although I would have to pack up all my stuff and move it, at least I wouldn’t need a moving van to get it across the hall.
          ‘So what date did you have your heart set on for the big move?’ I asked her, seeing no other option.
         ‘You mean you will move in?’ she squealed and pulled me into a huge embrace.  I nodded and laughed at her happiness.  She was so eager to get things going that she demanded we go over to my apartment and start going through my stuff right then.  I agreed, not having much choice in the matter anyway, and before I knew it she had packed four huge bin bags with my stuff and had lined them against the wall.  I just stood there with astonishment as she piled more of the junk I had worked so hard to collect in a fifth bag.
         ‘Are you going to stand there gawking at me or will you help me with these things.  I need to get them down to the huge bins outside,’ Katie smiled so sweetly.
         ‘Now hang on a minute, those are all filled with my things.  Let me at least say goodbye to my precious belongings,’ I pleaded with her.
         ‘Oh please,’ she said in an exasperated tone as she handed over the first bag.  I began rummaging through it.  Katie was right, most of it did need throwing away.  But some things I just wanted to keep.  Like my best selling novel, Auburn Past, for example.
         ‘I wrote this, how could you just throw it away?’ I was furious.
         ‘Sorry, I guess I didn’t see it,’ She shrugs and continues with her work.  Typical, I thought, typically female.  I had worked so hard to get this book accepted by the publishing house, and don’t think I didn’t have trouble writing it.  Flicking through the pages reminded me of how excited I had been.  I had still been filled with youthful hope back then.  The story was basically about this crazy guy who talks to himself, well, his alter ego who is this wired, sarcastic little voice inside his head.  Boy was the end chilling, though.  It hadn’t even started off as a horror story, it just sort of turned into one.  I smiled wistfully and stoked the cover affectionately.  Then I threw it aside and kept digging.
‘What about you?  Aren’t you going to sacrifice something?’ I was starting to get angry with her as I started on my second bag.
         ‘Hey, I’m sacrificing my freedom, not to mention my apartment,’ Katie smiled cheekily, knowing full well what my reaction would be.
         ‘But you’re the one who asked me to move in!’ I cried incredulously.
         ‘I’m only kidding.  I will get rid of some of my things.  There are a few odds and ends I need to throw out anyway,’ Katie squeezed my hand in a reassuring way, ‘Don’t worry everything will be fine.’
I didn’t want to believe her entirely.  How could she know that?  Nobody knows what fate has in store for them. 
         
I don’t want to be stuck with you.
But you were the one who gave me life.  You brought me into this world like a son. 
Hardly.  I think you just came along of your own accord.
You needed me, and suddenly I was there for you.  I came from your imagination to help get you through those tough times.  Your father running off, your mother passing out from yet another vodka bottle.  Everything.  And I helped you with the latest tragedy. 
You didn’t help. You made things worse.
Oh I don’t believe that. In your heart you know I’m right.  When the time comes you will accept me. Once again you will learn to rely on me.
No. I don’t need you now, and I will never need you.
But it is awfully lonely in here, sitting in the dull grey with no one to talk to. Eventually you will have to give in to me. It is inevitable. And like I said, I will always be here, with you.

         Soon, Katie and I had managed to clear out everything in my apartment. It was completely bare. Nothing was left, not a single scrap of evidence that I had ever lived here. Nothing, or so I thought.
         ‘I didn’t see this before. What is it?’ Katie had just discovered a door which had been hidden by a white sheet hung from the ceiling to the floor. She tried to turn the handle but it wouldn’t budge.
         ‘Are you sure you never saw this?’ she asked as she pulled on the door.
         ‘Watch it, or you might hurt yourself. Let me help you with it,’ I walked over to her and tried to open the door myself. Again it wouldn’t move. Then I remembered. Years back, the door had been stuck shut when I had a little incident with a tube of super glue. All the things I had kept stored in there were lost.
         ‘We are going to need something heavy to get this open,’ I looked around but of course there was nothing left in the apartment. Katie was suddenly bright eyed and ran out of the room. She came back moments later lugging the fire extinguisher that was kept at the end of the hall. I smiled, but my mind was filled with doubt. I took the extinguisher and rammed it into the door. It took another try to break the wood. Katie helped clear the splintered pieces and a very full closet was revealed. There were loads of boxes and clothes inside. I picked up the last piece of wood and stood up.
         ‘You really need to clean this out, Jake. And you might want to think about buying a new door,’ Katie looked at me, ‘It’s an awful mess.’

Murderer, murderer! 
Leave me alone! Leave me alone, or I will have to do something. You don’t want me to hurt us do you?
Like you’d dare, Jakey boy, you don’t have the guts.
Don’t I...? 
‘LIGHTS OUT!’
© Copyright 2007 Jenna (jenjen440023 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1335899-Black-and-white-stripes