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smashing against my walls.

They were starting up again, I could hear a scattering clatter of glass and angry voices building.

There was no way I was leaving the house, I hadn’t been to work for weeks now but I was still on the payroll.

In ignorance of the uproar outside I rooted for the televisions remote control and settled into a comfortable position on the bed. Every channel at this time; which was the beginning of any normal evening, aired programs about bargains and celebrities. They bought food, they bought booze, reinforced their image with charity, essentially buying their celebrity. Everything they did was hollow and self important.

The only thing I wanted to see was never on, I couldn’t understand it Jacky Mendisa was a new release, not an absolute blockbuster but surely better than half of the cosh they had on the movie channel.

The news was my best bet, every few hours it aired a report that featured a short story about me with a picture of my face before it was ruined by that boy.

 

My mobile was ringing out its tune suddenly, Ben hadn’t rang me since last week, he’s probably found out I’ve not been to the set since the attack, he’s got to be angry, but I thought it’d still be good to hear from him, being alone wasn’t.

‘Hi Ben’

‘Hi’

‘Who is this?’

‘You know.’

It wasn’t Ben probably a prank caller or an attempt to frame me.

‘Steven Baker?’

‘That’s good. Did you want to thank me?’

It was the maniac, I sat up instantly

 ‘Yes’

‘Thought so, tell me did you enjoy it, did you see his space gas flood out, was it like slow dry burgundy or red resin? Whatever he did to you, you’re taking your shyness too far, I never heard of an actor whose camera shy, go back to work. Next year there will be more deaths that means more films for you because only you can play Gregory’

 

Would this maniac ever have his fill of blood, was he insatiable by violence? His murderous compulsion couldn’t be explained or reasoned out within me, nor could his need to interrupt my life with his but if he wanted me dead I would be by now, something else was happening and I needed to know what.

Carefully I asked

‘Why are you doing this?’

I heard his voice soften

‘Come down stairs lets talk, I’m in your kitchen’

The phone went dead.

Footsteps echoed off the kitchens tiled floor in the apparent silence.

I didn’t know how he got in, but there was no freedom from him anymore, no where to go no one to save me from his will and what he knew and what I knew was inevitable.

I’d do what he said or I’d die or go to prison an innocent man blamed for all the evil things he’d done.

That much I knew.

Solemnly I journeyed to the kitchen where he stood in plain sight.

He was huge like I remembered, six foot something and broad, who knew how he was so hard to miss.

He showed me his horrible eyes waiting for me so say the words like the psycho he was.

‘Thank you… I have to ask, who are you?’

Finally he answered something.

‘I’m sorry I lied to you when we met it, the truth is I don’t actually know who I am.

Two years ago I woke in hospital from a catatonic state with no recollection of who I was or where I was from.

Your face was the first I saw, you did that kindness I owe you for. After leaving ahead of me I couldn’t find you but it took more than a year before I gave up and concentrated on putting back together a life for myself, an identity.

Then one day you were there in front of me, caught up in crowd inside a film store, signing autographs for a movie.’

 

That was the announcement promo for Jacky Mendisa. I waited until he was completely finished instead of confirming it was clear he had more to tell me.  

 

‘After that I followed you for eight months, whoever I was before was good at that, and also at killing.

Right now people are mourning Tomas Baker like he’s a saint, but that girl friend of his, she was about to get a dose of what he gave to the last one, except this time I stepped in.

I’ve been the paparazzi, a loyal fan, your co-star, Benjamin’s employer and he knew what I had done, but he didn’t know I wanted a chance to repay my debt.

He kept me well fed with information about you, updates, times and places you went, what you ate, your health. Call it an obsession, call it whatever you want.

In return I put people like Jean Parsons in line for him, he really hated that man.

Then he left you with me that night at that restaurant, it’s a bitter pill to swallow but that night he wanted you to die.

When I didn’t do it, he made sure your friend Steven found out you were a suspect and moved you out here on your lonesome, think about it, who else could have leaked that information?

The Baker family have a history of relentless aggression.

There’s something else too, about a women but I don’t owe you that.

For that, you have to owe me and I am not a burden, anyone should bare.’

 

At the end of his revelation I didn’t know what was he offering, whether I could refuse or how much truth was in it beside only Ben knowing about the arrest at the Kipper Hotel.

The few staff there that night didn’t know who I was because I’d signed in under an alias to avoid stalkers like the that one stood in my kitchen telling me I didn’t know my oldest friend.

Ultimately torn, in that moment I had to decide an answer to the question of whether he was lying.

The problem was when I did that, another question arose.

Why would he be?

 

 

Imprint

Publication Date: 01-15-2014

All Rights Reserved

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