The Twisted Tales

A story of the time you were still here

              The sunlight streamed through the window. The children laughed in the park. The sun's rays are warm on my skin. This is the time that we feel the safest, where we feel relaxed. I am not part of the royal we anymore. It was last summer, on a day just like this that it happened. I have relived this day ever since. The sunlight is too bright on my eyes as I try to sleep, the laughter a crescendo in my ears and the warm tingling of the rays felt like a rash. Even the perfect driving conditions couldn't prevent the worst driver from killing my beloved wife.

My therapist tells me that I should not think about her as she was, in that moment. I should rejoice in the good times we had so I can say goodbye and move on. I wished she were here, even as an echo, like it is in TV shows. Alas, TV made that up too. I can't sleep in the room we shared anymore. I could barely even stand to go into the room to collect my clothes. The bed was still perfectly made the way she liked it; the room tidy except for her vanity dresser – I never tidied that for her. I always stayed at home, a perfect house husband, while she went out and worked. I never minded, I liked to keep the place spotless for her.

My therapist tells me that it wasn't a healthy relationship. I never believed her. My therapist says that I used my wife Lucy as a crutch to never fully get over what happened to me as a kid – that by making her my whole life I was avoiding having to deal with my own. I know she is right now, but back then all I could see was Lucy. Lucy didn't make me dependant on her, she just stayed with me when no one else would. She alone helped me come out of my shell.

The darkness is more welcoming to me, as it scares away others. I have now found freedom in hiding within the nightmares of others. I don't want them to hurt me and I don't want to hurt them, so if I scare them away I stay in an equilibrium of safety. I walk in the dark without night vision goggles, or even a flashlight. Apparently this intimidates others, but my eyes are so used to it now that it is second nature. The outside of my house is covered in large cobwebs full of spiders – I put them there. But the spiders dare not enter my abode.

I work as a night security guard, and I enjoy the times when my equipment messes up or someone stumbles onto the property. The fear of the unknown makes me feel more alive. I never turn the lights on, meaning that the cameras always work in night vision. I also change out of the regulation footwear into quieter shoes. If I am to be one with the ghosts, I might as well act like one.

My therapist is worried about how well I seem to have acclimatised. Well, that's what she would say if she was able to say it. She told me that I had to go out in daytime – I had to fight my fear. I told her that I had fought every other one that I ever had, and she told me that I was just cloaking my new fear with them; but what was wrong with that? I still functioned, I still cleaned, and I pay my taxes. Our disagreements were fine until she started told me that she was going to get me institutionalised so we could get to the end of my problem. That was the calmest I have been in ages.

The next one was the boy in the hospital I met when Lucy died. His father had died in the same accident, and so we bonded. We always kept in touch, but then he moved to care and got bullied. I could not bare for him to realise what life could be like, so I made sure that he was moved someone better. For a while he was happy, until he was not. I remember once that there was a trespasser onto the property I protect, that seemed to fail to notice all the signs pointing out the danger of an electric fence, and I couldn't do anything to help him. Or the woman that wouldn't take no when we crossed paths after she left the nightclub. Her inebriation lead to her falling Infront of a taxi. Or the drug dealer that was harming kids, who finally got a taste of his rancid medicine he kept selling. Or the abuser who got him comeuppance.

The world is both connected and not at the same time. I am a piece floating between story lines that never fits in anymore. I was never designed to fit into the world or society – I was made accidentally and then turned a profit on. For a brief time, I saw happiness with Lucy, the only one to give me the ability to join in, but when she was killed I was released back into the free flow of non-connected people. As I watch the world through cameras and TV shows, I just wish I could save them all. Mainly I wish that my Lucy would come home. Then, of course, I wish she hadn't cheated.