Rhythmic shocks along my spine pull me from a dreamless oblivion; disoriented, I slowly register the shocks as a proximity alert. Rolling onto my stomach, I pull up the orbital stream, my right eye rolling towards the back of my skull to investigate the alert. I find the video segment I need, projecting the image onto the ceiling of my home.
She been alone in this place for a long time, how long she wasn’t really aware now. Sometimes, it seemed like it been a short time, other times it seemed like years. Things seemed fuzzy and hard to keep track of now. Her mind wasn’t the same as it used to be. It happened when she was thirteen, the accident that got her in this state. It often flashed in front of her eyes. It was so painful, it was hard to think of.
I was the best. Not ‘one of the best’. The. Best. The Best Jest. What am I saying? Was. Am. I am The Best Jest. It says so on the curtains. The curtains I’m currently hidden behind. The huge red velvet drapes conceal me from my audience. The tension is starting to bubble. I can almost taste it. Like candyfloss. There for a moment on your tongue then gone. The sweetness. I need more of it. So, I put on shows every night.
I hear sirens. They ring around me. Banging in my head. I have no memory of the moments prior to this moment. I looked down at the blood that on my hands. It was dripping down my arms. Where did it come from? I looked just past to see the girl lifeless, a cut at her heart and on her neck. The heart’s blood was dried up but went fairly far down her stomach.
The rolling hills in northwest Briton were moist and mossy in the small hours of the morning. A thin fog pervasive in the area competed with a low-hanging steamy cloud covering the ground, the heat from registered from the earth conflicting with the cool spring air.