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1
Toya
Ten years have passed since those days of being tormented in high school.
I dream of that pool, the storage room, and the gleeful smile of my primary tormentor. It’s a dream that repeats over and over. My therapist says it’s a part of my awakening to the sickness that runs in my blood.
The same sickness that had me finding helpless animals in the woods and tearing into them to feed a hunger that I never knew laid dormant within.
Normally, when one is called a psychopath or sociopath, it’s more like an insult or a randomly shouted thing when you’ve scared the shit out of another. Yet, for me, it was the diagnosis. I even took the exam after my mother caught me bludgeoning a dog that had bitten our kitten to death.
The urge to kill waned as I got older. Not sure if it was due to my growing obsession with something else, or when I learned what would happen if I ever took a human life. I enjoyed freedom too much to be placed within a cage. My mother eventually took me to a specialist when she realized that her daughter felt nothing when hurting others.
Now I dream of my tormentor; otherwise, I don’t dream at all, which for me means that I welcome those twisted dreams, and fear the ones filled with nothing.
“Toya.”
Removing the earphones I’d been wearing in an effort to drown out workplace noise, I looked away from the report I’d written up--another family that would be torn apart soon. Being a social worker hadn’t been on the top list of jobs I wanted, but with my special problem, it was the best job. Who else could catch a monster, other than a monster? I met the eager gaze of my co-worker, a middle-aged Latina with short, brown hair and pink lined lips--her eyes covered with bright coloring, a complete copy of the beauty gurus she watched on YouTube.
The entirety of Victoria’s persona was in direct contrast with the somber and dark office we worked in.
“Yes?”
She leaned closer over the edge of the cubicle wall. “Did you hear about the shooting that took place at the Clemen’s place?”
I could see from her expression she really wanted to gossip. Victoria was usually a good co-worker and didn’t get caught up in too much drama, but there were times she exhibited the gossipy behavior that was more adequate for a fussy old woman. Deciding to humor her, I removed my earphones completely and nodded. “Yes, I actually spoke with Donna this morning. Luckily, the children had already been pulled from the home.”
Victoria feigned shock and made a conscious effort in showing she cared when she really didn’t. “Thank goodness! If it wasn’t for your statement, it wouldn’t have only been Ms. Clemen who got shot. How did you know the father was a danger?”
How did a carnivorous animal recognize another? The answer was too obvious.
Yet, I only allowed a small smile to curl my lips. “A hunch, I guess.”
That was all I would give her. Replacing my ear phones, I returned my attention to finishing the report. I liked getting out of the office exactly at six. While there weren’t many things I could control, time was one of those things I held tightly.
Finishing the last touches, I felt my shoulder loosen as I felt relief at having completed it on time. Saving the document, I also sent it to the USB I left plugged up religiously. The computers at the office were notorious for shutting down or getting that random virus because a co-worker opened a virus infested email.
Using the tip of my feet to push me back, I took a look up and down the office. No one else seemed to be near finishing, as there were still a few families being led to their perspective meeting rooms with their case workers. Luckily for me, my cases had been on the light side and lack of feeling tended to get most everything done quicker.
Rising, I shut off my computer, grabbing the USB out of the port and shoved it into my pocket. Grabbing my coat from where I’d tossed it over the left side of my cubicle, I bent slightly to pick up my messenger bag with a few files that needed to be looked over.
Digging in the front pocket, I pulled out my cell, turning it on. As I waited for it to finish, I called over to Victoria, “Bye, see you tomorrow!”
“Same! And enjoy dinner with your mom!”
I nodded. Hearing the soft chime of my phone, I returned my attention to it and headed out of the office. Messages from my mother, and a few “friends” popped up on my phone as I entered the elevator. The soft ding as the doors closed gave a bit of respite from other humans. I’d been lucky enough to catch an elevator with no one else occupying it.
“Are you coming?”
“Don’t be late!”
“Which dress should I wear?”
These were a few of the messages my mother had spammed my phone with. My mother, the rock of my life and the one who’d guided a blood-covered me to the people who could help me, had been the only one in the world to not only accept me wholly, but love me unconditionally.
Ms. Celeste Clayton was the reason I’d turned my natural inclinations to helping people, though I don’t think she would approve of some of the ways I went about solving certain problems.
She was five-foot-five to my five-foot-nine. While she had rounded features, mine were sharper, something inherited from my absentee father. In her caramel skin was a sharp contrast to my darker and brighter complexion, but as most people discovered, it was our gestures that made us more related than our appearances. I didn’t mind it; it’d only been hard when I’d been a bit chunkier than the other girls and going through the typical development of a teenager.
