Eighteen Summers (2 page)

“
Not really.”

“
What do you like?”

“
Nothing.”

She sighs in exasperation and I turn my head to look up at her. I feel mean being so uncooperative.

“Well you've gotta eat love!”

“
'S'pose so.... whatever, but just a small portion, thanks.” I try to smile.

“
I'll call you then.”

She disappears out of my room and goes back downstairs. I look closely in the mirror in the dim light. My long mid blond hair is greasy and my scalp is itchy and dirty. I have a compulsion to look deeply into my golden brown eyes and I stare. I don't know what I'm looking for. Everything looks the same as ever. I strip off my jeans and sweatshirt and go into the bathroom for a quick shower. I soap myself all over with Body Shop olive body wash, which actually belongs to my dad, but I love its fresh and slightly fruity smell. Then I wash my hair with my mum's Aussie shampoo, scrubbing hard and frothing up a huge amount of lather. I stand under the water letting it rush over me, washing it all away.

My hand slips down, between my legs. This massive and rather late sexual awakening I am going through seems to have taken me over. I can't stop doing this. Every day... Often twice a day. It's like a drug. I know I shouldn't, and I feel dirty doing it, but I've never had a boyfriend and don't think I will. I can't ever imagine getting close enough to anyone to do this kind of thing. It's the only way I'm going to have sex. On my own. Sometimes it makes me cry with frustration. I need someone to love me this way so badly. I lay back against the wall for five minutes of self intimacy. Sometimes I'm horrified at some of the things I want to do to myself. Like now. I grab everything in sight in heated desperation. I'm a self made porn show. I'm obviously sex mad as well as being, well, just plain mad.

After the hot shower, I go downstairs, through the living room, feeling so hungry. Not for food of course.

“Hi Dad.” He looks up from reading his 'Greatest Golfers of All Time' book.

“
Hello love. How's you?”

“
Just peachy,” I mutter unenthusiastically.

“
As good as that, eh?” He smiles at me fondly.

If only he knew the kind of daughter he really had.

I go in the kitchen and run a large glass of cold water. I glug it down fast. I have to fill myself up with something.

“
Dinner Phil,” Mum calls out. We sit down at the kitchen table together. The smell rising from directly underneath my nose is vile and the scent of blood from my parents is so tempting. I switch off my sense of scent. Meal times are becoming torturous. I push the food down. It's all I can do not to gag. God knows why I'm having this chronic food phobia. It's getting so difficult. And eating isn't the worst of it. Lately it's been giving me a bad case of tummy upset at the other end as well.

Great job.

After stacking the dishwasher, one of my designated daily tasks in the house, I go back upstairs in a hurry. I take them two at a time. I misjudge my step and my sock covered foot slips on the narrow treads of the cottage staircase.  I crash down on the stairs heavily and noisily with a squeal, knocking my nose hard on the edge of the step. Blood flows out in a gush. I cup my hands and overwhelmed by the scent I start to lick at it. My head buzzes with warmth. I lick like mad, in a frenzy, sucking between my fingers.

Holy mother!

Tears come to my eyes. I'm completely fucking crazy.

My mum suddenly appears at my side.

“What's the matter?”

“
I tripped... Knocked my nose... Nosebleed... Didn't want to make a mess,” I mumble, face in hands, still licking. She leads me off to the cloakroom for some tissue and motherly attention. I frantically lick some more before I'm forced to stop.

“
Head back,” She orders and pinches my nose hard on the bridge. A few seconds pass. “There. It's stopped.” She announces. Not that I wanted it to. I could have happily bled to death and drank it all. It would have been a nice way to go. Self cannibalism in style.

“
Thanks.” She leaves me sitting on the toilet seat with a wet flannel to clean my hands and face with. I groan with pleasure as I lick my bloody hands clean, wiping my face and sucking the flannel for an age afterwards consuming every microscopic last drop from it.

This was divine. Gorgeous. But I now I want it so much more.

I have a sudden need to get out of the house. I put my trainers and rain jacket on and pretend to be going for a run. I don't know why I'm going out really. It's shit outside. I think I want to be alone, that's all. I feel like I've made a big discovery. What that is, I'm not sure.

“
But you've just had a nosebleed, and why go out now, on a night like this? Can't you wait 'till it's dry and light? I don't like it Cand,” Mum says in a concerned tone from her favourite spot in front of the TV.

“
I need to get rid of some energy. Just a quick five minutes around the block,” I assure her.

I set off walking in the opposite direction to the block. At least it's stopped raining hard now, it's just drizzling lightly. Still windy though. I walk slowly to the end of our lane and down the bridle track towards the woods. I don't know why I'm going there. It's like I have to, like I'm being pulled in that direction, away from the light streets and houses. It's fresh and cool and the wind is clearing my head. It's pitch black but oddly I can see. There's a dull red glow everywhere, like I'm looking through an infra red camera. 

Fuck, this is kind of weird, being able to see things in the dark...

I don't like it. 
I turn on the little torch I always keep in my pocket to light my way in the conventional sense. The strong white LED beam bobs along in front of me as I approach the wood ahead. It catches the eyes of a rabbit next to the hedge to the side of the track. It's glowing, transfixed dots stare at me. I am suddenly overtaken by a massive surge of need, coupled with an amazing blast of energy and speed. I run three big steps, leap and pounce at the rabbit and catch its warm desperately wriggling tiny body in my hands. I don't think about what I'm doing. I'm driven and so full of craving I could burst. I sink my teeth into its fur, ripping at its flesh roughly to get further in and taste its blood. I feel the heat of the first bloody gush burn in my throat and stomach. My head rushes with a high so strong I'm breathless. I draw on the rabbit hard, over and over, savouring the wild flavour and slick texture of its life force running down inside me. I suck it completely dry. Its little body lies limp in my hands, still warm.

I sit back on my heels in the soft mud of the path in horrified realisation. I sob my heart out. I howl and howl. I'm disgusting. An evil revolting Halloween witch. I hate myself. I'm insane. I'm going to burn in hell for this.

Still crying silently, I get up and respectfully lay the rabbit's bloodless body gently beneath the hedge. I cover its shallow grave with some handfuls of grass and a few twigs.

I trudge home blindly, sicker than I've ever felt, but oddly high and satisfied at the same time. The buzz I had subsides by the time I arrive at my house and now I just feel sick.

I need to see someone. I need to go to the doctor and fess up. I could do this to another person. A little child or a baby. I'm obviously dangerous.

My arrival home causes all hell to break loose.

“Candy, my God. Fuck! What happened?” My dad jumps out of his chair with a shocked look and grabs my shoulders. My dad never, ever swears.

“
What d'you mean?” I ask, confused for a moment.

“
Your face and hands are covered in blood. And how did you get all that mud on you?” He looks at my face and jeans in turn with wild eyes. 

Oh shit, how could I have forgotten to clean myself up...?

“Look, it's okay Dad. I must have had another nosebleed, that's all. Mum was right, I shouldn't have gone out. And I slipped on the path and fell in the Jones' flower bed on the way back. It's nothing bad. Don't panic.” I leave the room, pacifying him as I go. “I'll take another shower, then I'm going to bed. 'Night.”

“
Okay honey. If you're sure you're alright... Shall I ask mum to look in on you?” He calls after me.

“
If you like. But I'm fine. Really, it's just a nosebleed, that's all.”

“
'Night then sweet.”

As I enter the hallway I hear the downstairs toilet flush. I rush upstairs to avoid another barrage of parental questions and head straight into the bathroom for my shower. I go to bed early. I sob myself to sleep into my pillow in disgust. The little rabbit's lifeless body still emblazoned in my mind.

I don't know if it was my highly disturbing Halloween evening which caused it, but I have the most horrendous, weird, and erotic nightmare. I'm naked, with bound wrists, gagged and helpless, hanging suspended by one ankle above the floor, in a dark, dank smelling room. I feel my long hair sweep the floor beneath me. It feels hollow and empty, like a cellar, as I make muffled, frantic, and terrified noises through the gag. I can't see who it is, but some man is biting me all over. Forcing sharp teeth slowly into my private tender places, breathing hotly against my skin, running his tongue over me and scraping hard long nails roughly down my back and across my stomach. All the while he whispers in the ancient Latin tongue erotically, murmuring appreciatively, and laughing softly, manically to himself as he carries out his painful, torturous exploration of my body. I desperately try to wriggle away, out of his grasp. I can feel the rush of air as he circles me fast. I hear him calling me strange names as his hands brush all over me... 
Calista, decore meo, ahhh... Pedicabo ego vos volo...
Calista Isadora, te amo...
I know what he is saying, and I wish I didn't. He unties the gag and kisses me all over my face. Licking his way around
with a wild fever. Th
en his tongue slides deep inside my mouth, to the back of my throat. It's long and hot. He touches my uvula triggering my gag reflex, his nose pushing hard against my chin. Then he's gone in a flurry of loose clothing which whips at my face. All is quiet and deadly still. I breathe a tenuous sigh of relief that my torture is over. But then suddenly I scream out in anger and pain as I feel cool sharp nailed fingers thrust and scrape their way inside my wet heat roughly, over and over...  The pain is so intense.

Arrrgghh... Oh God, Someone, please... Help me!

I wake in a profuse sweat as the first rays of daylight filter in through my window. I lie there with my heart racing in utter terror.

Fuck! I don't need this on top of everything else. My days are screwed up enough already. I can't take my nights being worse.

I go downstairs with a book and sit on my own with a cup of piping hot water which is my comfort drink at the moment. My substitute for the cup of tea I have always loved until recently.  My mind is full of disturbing things, painful sexual things, and bloody things. That dream was horrifying and sick, and although I hate to admit it, it was also a touch arousing in a weird way. My heart wasn't only pounding with fear. I've obviously got a very dark side to me. I can still smell him, in my head. A light earthy man scent with a touch of some kind of perfume I've never smelt before. A spicy mixture. I can remember the taste of him too and that sets my heart pounding again with fear, revulsion, and an odd masochistic fascination. His strong wine like flavour, tainted with blood. My blood. It was so weird. The whole fucking thing. It seemed so real. But just about everything else is weird lately, so my dreams are obviously going to follow suit.

At eight o'clock Mum appears to make her early cup of tea. She murmurs a sleepy good morning and I pretend to be engrossed in my book, murmuring quietly in reply. She goes back upstairs with their mugs and I pick up the house phone and call the doctors surgery, which opens at eight. After a long wait, and with an annoying message repeating in my ear, I finally get to speak to the receptionist and book an appointment for Wednesday of next week at 6pm. It's lucky I'm not physically ill, as it's almost impossible to see a doctor fast these days. I'll have to think up a good story, to tell Doctor Heinz without actually saying I sucked the blood from a rabbit.

God, fuck knows what though...

I'm still lazing in my PJ's when Dad comes down.

“Up early for the weekend, aren't you love?” He says cheerily. My dad is always cheery in the mornings. It's really annoying.

“I had a bad night. It must have been the blood loss,” I joke. Badly.

“Oh really, did you have another nosebleed?” He asks in a concerned tone.

“No no... I'm fine.  But the two I had were rather heavy. I'll be okay though.”

“Take it easy today, won't you love? Remember you're helping me with the Cubs Halloween do tonight.”

“It's okay, I haven't forgotten.”

Oh damn it! Yes I have. All those little boys, and not so little boys, running amok, squealing all over the place, fighting each other and tons of parents everywhere. Oh shit!!

My dad is a Cub Scout Leader. His pack is the Exeter 5
th
. I'm his 'helper' on these little fund raisers he organises. I didn't used to mind in my younger days, but now it's very uncool. Not that I'm in any way cool myself, but I do draw the line at this. Also, it's probably not wise for me to go, considering my behaviour lately. But I promised, and Mum's doing lates at her supermarket job so she won't be there either. It'll be bar duty with Ed, collecting and washing glasses, sorting out the food, and clearing up the wrecked room afterwards. Hopefully the music won't be as crap as it usually is. I can't stand all that stupid party stuff. It makes me want to scream.