less sense. Maybe he’s the Cyris he keeps mentioning. Whoever he is, he’s definitely not the Charlie she knew.
She’s curious about how much of what he’s telling her he even believes. At first she thought he was telling the truth. One woman waved him down and he ended up saving them both. It sounded good, but if he really stabbed Cyris in the stomach then something still had to have happened to the two women. Did Charlie kill them?
At the moment he’s working on the letter. She doesn’t care whether he posts it – she suggested it in the hope that if he begins putting words on paper about what happened he may begin to realise what he’s doing. If some of the old Charlie is still in there then maybe he’ll see the decisions he’s making are insane. Hopefully he’ll take responsibility for his actions and turn himself in. Charlie’s a smart guy, and she’s hoping for some of that intelligence to come back.
So far the plan hasn’t progressed beyond watching Charlie’s house. He tied her up again at one point so he could head out and buy some stationery. Now she’s resting on the bed, not tied to it, finishing off the muffins and a chicken sandwich that he bought for her earlier. The horror movie is still on TV and she wonders if there was one on yesterday morning too because it might suggest where Charlie got some of his ideas from.
The news said the two women died violently. It mentioned ritualistic killings. Did they really die by being staked through the heart as Charlie said? If so, did Charlie do the staking? It depends. It depends on how guilty she thinks he is. The idea of betraying Charlie hurts, but hell, it isn’t as if she owes him anything. Her loyalties now lie with two dead women she’s never met. She needs to get out of here. Needs to get the police.
11
‘Stakes,’ Jo says.
I look up from my letter. It isn’t going well. I’m up to the part where Cyris had his dead fingers curled around the handle of the knife but I’m not sure whether to put that down. I don’t bother to ask Jo because she doesn’t believe I stabbed him, and looking back at it I’m starting to question it too. I didn’t want to check for a pulse because I’d seen too many horror movies and knew what would happen to me if I did.
I don’t add any atmosphere because I’m not writing them a story. The English teacher inside me says nothing of my shivering from being scared to death, because the police don’t care about character development. I remember picking up the torch and pointing it at Kathy. What was it I said? That’s right. I told her everything was going to be okay.
‘What are you talking about?’ I ask.
‘We need to make some stakes.’
In the background the TV is going. I keep glancing at it, waiting for my photograph to appear on the screen with bold words beneath it saying ‘Wanted for murder’ and ‘Do not approach’. On the table, screwed up into balls, are my first six attempts at the letter. I think I know exactly what I want to say but it’s turning out I don’t really know at all. Each rewrite makes me question more and more, makes me wonder if what I’m writing ever happened at all. I keep the newspaper on the table next to me to remind me that it did.
‘Why?’
‘Have you finished your letter?’
‘Not yet. I’m still not following you about the stakes.’
‘Finish your letter and I’ll tell you.’
‘It could take …’
‘Just wrap things up. We don’t have all day.’
I don’t mind that Jo is giving me orders because it means we’re about to do something right, and that’s going to feel good after the last few days. I spend the next ten minutes wrapping things up but don’t sign it. I tear up my other mistakes and flush them down the toilet, then fold the final copy into the envelope and attach the stamp. I grab the phone book, get the address for the police station and print it across the front. I mark it as urgent.
‘When he shows up at your
She’s curious about how much of what he’s telling her he even believes. At first she thought he was telling the truth. One woman waved him down and he ended up saving them both. It sounded good, but if he really stabbed Cyris in the stomach then something still had to have happened to the two women. Did Charlie kill them?
At the moment he’s working on the letter. She doesn’t care whether he posts it – she suggested it in the hope that if he begins putting words on paper about what happened he may begin to realise what he’s doing. If some of the old Charlie is still in there then maybe he’ll see the decisions he’s making are insane. Hopefully he’ll take responsibility for his actions and turn himself in. Charlie’s a smart guy, and she’s hoping for some of that intelligence to come back.
So far the plan hasn’t progressed beyond watching Charlie’s house. He tied her up again at one point so he could head out and buy some stationery. Now she’s resting on the bed, not tied to it, finishing off the muffins and a chicken sandwich that he bought for her earlier. The horror movie is still on TV and she wonders if there was one on yesterday morning too because it might suggest where Charlie got some of his ideas from.
The news said the two women died violently. It mentioned ritualistic killings. Did they really die by being staked through the heart as Charlie said? If so, did Charlie do the staking? It depends. It depends on how guilty she thinks he is. The idea of betraying Charlie hurts, but hell, it isn’t as if she owes him anything. Her loyalties now lie with two dead women she’s never met. She needs to get out of here. Needs to get the police.
11
‘Stakes,’ Jo says.
I look up from my letter. It isn’t going well. I’m up to the part where Cyris had his dead fingers curled around the handle of the knife but I’m not sure whether to put that down. I don’t bother to ask Jo because she doesn’t believe I stabbed him, and looking back at it I’m starting to question it too. I didn’t want to check for a pulse because I’d seen too many horror movies and knew what would happen to me if I did.
I don’t add any atmosphere because I’m not writing them a story. The English teacher inside me says nothing of my shivering from being scared to death, because the police don’t care about character development. I remember picking up the torch and pointing it at Kathy. What was it I said? That’s right. I told her everything was going to be okay.
‘What are you talking about?’ I ask.
‘We need to make some stakes.’
In the background the TV is going. I keep glancing at it, waiting for my photograph to appear on the screen with bold words beneath it saying ‘Wanted for murder’ and ‘Do not approach’. On the table, screwed up into balls, are my first six attempts at the letter. I think I know exactly what I want to say but it’s turning out I don’t really know at all. Each rewrite makes me question more and more, makes me wonder if what I’m writing ever happened at all. I keep the newspaper on the table next to me to remind me that it did.
‘Why?’
‘Have you finished your letter?’
‘Not yet. I’m still not following you about the stakes.’
‘Finish your letter and I’ll tell you.’
‘It could take …’
‘Just wrap things up. We don’t have all day.’
I don’t mind that Jo is giving me orders because it means we’re about to do something right, and that’s going to feel good after the last few days. I spend the next ten minutes wrapping things up but don’t sign it. I tear up my other mistakes and flush them down the toilet, then fold the final copy into the envelope and attach the stamp. I grab the phone book, get the address for the police station and print it across the front. I mark it as urgent.
‘When he shows up at your
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