Glyn Edwards, Meon Valley u3a
South East Region
Dead and Dying
The cycle path goes through the old railway tunnel. He has dumped me near the opening and hidden me with a piece of rusty corrugated iron. He’ll be sorry; I can recognise him, so he won’t get away with it. Once they find me I’ll be able to help them catch him. I’ll wait until it’s light then someone will come.
My watch has stopped at 11:47. That’s funny, that was the time just before he left me here; I wonder what time it is. There should be some shift workers along soon, they will find me and help me. I can hear voices and the sound of bicycles, ‘Help! Help me!’ I shout. Nothing. More voices, so I shout again. Still nothing.
A bit later I hear children’s voices, so I shout again, with the same negative results. What’s wrong with them all, why can’t they hear me? If I can just get out from under this corrugated sheet, then perhaps someone will see me. I try, but can’t move. I can hear a man talking to his dog.’ Come on boy, don’t go in there.’ I wish that I was out from under here.
Suddenly I find myself standing by the iron sheet. The dog is a few yards from me, it has stopped, and is whimpering. It’s ears are back and it looks petrified. ‘Good boy for finding me.’, I say to it, but it just stands there quivering. ‘What is it Bob?’ the dog’s owner shouts, ‘Come back here.’ The dog stands there with hackles raised not taking its eyes from me. The man comes into the tunnel, ‘Can you help me please?’ I say to him; he doesn’t answer. ‘What is it Bob, what’s wrong?’ The man moves towards the corrugated iron sheet and lifts it up. We both look under it and see… my body…
‘Oh my God.’, says the man, and he puts the sheet back gently. ‘We’d better get the police Bob.’ The dog is still looking at me as I stand there. ‘Don’t go’, I say to him, ’please don’t go.’ The man runs out of the tunnel and along the path, he doesn’t turn round. I don’t know what is happening. Why am I here? Why is my body lying there? Am I dreaming?, I don’t understand. I think and feel normal, but how can I be here when my body is there?
I can hear the sirens approaching. The police arrive and so does an ambulance. I’ll tell them what happened. After removing the sheet the paramedic examines my body. ‘No need to rush, this one has been dead quite a few hours.’ They have all ignored me. Slowly the unreal truth dawns on me, I can see and hear them, but they cannot see or hear me. I am somehow separate from my body, only the dog knew I was here.
Am I dreaming? Am I dead? I don’t know, all I know is that I am here and my body lies over there…but I feel all right…Am I dead?…I must be…
They zip my body up in a plastic sack and take it into the ambulance and drive away. The policemen put some tape over the path, then they too leave. I am left standing all alone, it is quiet again. I must think; how can I help to catch him, how can I get my revenge on the man who did this to me?
After a while I closed my eyes and wished that I was once again with my body. When I opened my eyes I was shocked to find that I was standing next to a table on which my body lay. There were several people in white overalls looking and touching my body. My body was naked. They were probing inside with swabs where he had forced himself. I had to look away, the memory was too fresh, too horrible, too painful. I vow to make that man, that animal, pay for what he did to me. I want to be at the police station, I wish I was there…and I am.
There is a chart on the wall with my name on it. Lots of people are talking or shouting all at once, telephones are ringing, it looks very chaotic. A group of policemen burst into the room. He is there! He is there amongst them! Oh great!, they have caught him, I am so happy I could die…but not yet.
He stands near the chart, and starts to talk to them.
‘It’s the same M.O. as the others, we will have to catch this perve before he kills again’
‘Don’t worry guv we’ll pull all the stops out on this one, we know how you feel about rapists’, someone said.
Guv?... Guv?… what the hell is going on? I point to him and shout ‘It’s him, it’s him, do something!’
Nobody takes any notice…
I appear at the press conference that HE is giving. ‘We are doing all we possibly can and are following up a number of leads. We urge anyone with information to contact us immediately.’
How can he stand up there and say that when it’s him? I wish I was at his home… and I am. It is dusk and he has just arrived home.
‘Hello dear, sorry I’m late, it’s this murder and rape job. In the morning I’ll ride out on Mr Tibbs and think about it before I go to the station’. His wife sits reading, ‘Your husband is a rapist’, I say to her, she does not react, but carries on reading. Mr Tibbs? Who is Mr Tibbs?
I stand in his farm yard all night, I can’t sleep…yet. In the morning he comes out of the house, whistling without a care in the world. He opens a door and goes in saying ‘Good morning Mr Tibbs.’ A few moments later he leads out a magnificent black horse.
The horse stands pawing the ground, ears pricked in anticipation, nostrils flaring, it’s coat has the iridescent sheen of a ravens wing. I watch as he gallops across the fields and along the cliff-top, and out of sight. Twenty five minutes later they return.
As the horse trots up to me sweating and snorting, it suddenly appears to sense me. It whinnies and shies away, ‘Whoa, steady, steady.’ He puts the horse back into the stable and drives into town. There isn’t much chance of him being caught when he is in charge of the case. I will have to deal with it myself; soon I had a plan.
I decide to go back to his farm and wait there.
I waited in the yard all night, the long night gave me time to think, to reason. Death is but one stage, but to die you must have no loose ends. Dying is to be at peace, to be finished, death is only the start. I am not finished…In the morning I was ready for him.
Next day he once more led his horse out into the yard. He mounted the horse with the same mastery that he had shown when he had mounted me. The control that he had over that magnificent beast was the same that he had had over me. That was his thrill, he needed to exert physical power over another living being and to have the ultimate control of life or death. His pleasure would lead to his end.
I watched them gallop off and along the cliff top. I closed my eyes and thought of the copse of trees in the distance and I was there. I appeared in the copse just as he rode into it. The horse reared up screaming a whinny, he was thrown off and crashed to the ground. He rolled over towards the edge of the cliffs. At the edge his legs hung over but he managed to cling on to a small sapling.
I appeared standing over him, his grip on the sapling was weakening. He looked up at me, I think he can see me now. A seagull flew past his face screeching, his grip gave out, his scream gave me great pleasure, I wanted it to last forever, but it didn’t.
He crashed into the rocks below, his head smashed open like an egg, blood and brain oozed out onto the rocks. I saw him standing next to his body, looking perplexed. He looked up and I knew that he could see me now. Revenge may be a black emotion but its primitive rewards give the immediate pleasure rush of a drug. I see him standing in the surf beside his body, he looks so pathetic, so vulnerable… He will never die like I can now, because he has no one to seek revenge from. He will wander about painfully for ever.
I feel so warm and sleepy: It’s time for me to go…through the opening.