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“Jasper, what does that mean?” All I see is his worried glance and when he doesn’t answer I repeat my question as a harsh whisper. “Jasper, why is the light flashing?”
“We have been here too long. We look suspicious. Now, follow everything that I do. Ok?” He tugs my arm and drags me up the step. “HURRY UP! If you argue with me again, I WILL call security; don’t think that I won’t.” He tries to be angry, but I can tell instantly that he is not very good at acting. As for me, it is a talent.
I pull back, not so hard that he can’t pull me, but hard enough that it looks realistic. “No. I refuse to go in there. I DON’T WANT TO! Let me go!” I resist glaring daggers at him. He has the same eyes as his father, which makes it so much easier to be angry at him.
“Sorry,” He whispers as he slaps my face, the sting only slightly hurts but I scream out in pain as if I am still a weak little girl. I let him take me up the rest of the stairs until we reach the blind spot of the camera. “Good job.” We high five and stand there for a while smiling at each other like idiots. This is the most alive I’ve felt in a very long time. Then I remember that I’m not supposed to be making friends, and my smile turns back into a frown.
“Remind me to give you acting lessons sometime, okay?” I say sarcastically. “Anyway, what was that all about?”
“My acting isn’t that bad, is it?” When I don’t answer, he sighs and continues, “The flashing red light means that there is suspicious activity. People don’t often take the stairs and people never stare out windows like you do; especially considering that the ‘window’ is just an illusion. They also have hearing sensors. I mean, we were talking relatively quietly but there is no certainty that they didn’t hear us.
Moving on, maybe one day you can teach me all that there is to know about acting; considering you think that I am so terrible.” He smiles and takes a deep breath in, gesturing to the door in front of us, “Ladies first.”
I open the door and we both step into the room. “This is it,” we say together, both having no idea what type of trauma awaits us on the other side.
“Ah, Emerson Kay Clarke,” a gruff voice appears in front of us, and we drop our smiles immediately. “I knew that you would make Jasper show you this place sooner or later. I see you two have already become acquainted.” As soon as I look up, I am overwhelmed with anger, with hate for this evil man that is willing to do so much wrong for his selfish desires.
How can he be so calm when I feel such a burning storm of hate inside me? “Follow me,” he says, “I have been expecting you.”
Chapter 9 - Emerson Clarke
We are being led through a long, white corridor, walking soundlessly for so long, that I almost think this is the torture he has in store for us. He plans for us to walk down this endless corridor until my legs fall off, and I finally give him whatever he wants.
I just wish that I had longer legs so that I would be able to actually keep up with Albert and Jasper. Jasper seems used to the quick pace, and he strides behind his father like he belongs there, which I guess he does. That thought alone sends shivers down my spine.
Seeing them this close together makes me realise how much of a splitting image Jasper is of his father. Same eyes, same face shape, same nose, same figure. I imagine that if Albert’s hair wasn’t grey, it would be the same shade of sandy blonde too.
I try to read the relationship between the two of them, to see if Jasper could really be trying to manipulate me and get close to me on purpose, but nothing about that interaction between the father and son seemed natural. As soon as Jasper saw Albert, he turned completely to stone. Albert too didn’t even address Jasper or even look at him once. Whatever the relationship between them is, I don’t think that Jasper is in on this. I think he’s as surprised to see his father here as I am.
I realise that I’m slowing down and quickly jog to catch up with them. We walk past about six or seven different rooms that are on the long corridor, each labelled different things like: VIP suite, Casa Vino, and a bunch of offices all with different names on the front. The last door on the left has its own separate turn off. The door is heavily bolted and has a brass plate that says in big font, The Cuffs. Just looking at the door turns me to ice. Something happened behind that door: something that I never want to happen again.
I touch the scar that runs across my eye and it burns with pain. I know it’s all in my head. I know that the pain isn’t there. But the reason that I have this scar is behind that door. Whatever is behind there has scarred me enough that I can still feel the phantom pain that it left behind. I still have the physical reminder of what Albert has put me through.
It takes everything in me to keep my hands firmly by my side and not strangle him.
“Hurry up!” Albert exclaims agitatedly, and I realise that I’ve almost come to a complete stop in front of the heavily bolted door. I start to think of some witty remark to say back to him, but Jasper shoots me a look. He’s telling me not to start trouble. I don’t know what makes me listen to him, but I bite my tongue and stay silent.
We turn at the end of the corridor and enter into a lounge room. I catch sight of Jasper, and almost feel regret when I see the pale look on his face. I shouldn’t have made him come here; this is my problem, not his. Then again, if this information that I supposedly know impacts everyone, then I guess it’s everyone’s problem: not just mine.
We walk through the lounge room to a door labelled ‘Albert Cunningham’s Office’. This is it; I tell myself. He opens the door and holds it open for us to walk through.
As soon as I step into the room, I feel the force of the world upon me. The weight of the suppressed memories takes the breath from my lungs. I stumble over to the chair and take in everything that looks just like what I’ve seen in the nightmares. In my memories.
The room is so contrasting. It is a stark white like the rest of the building. White tiles, white walls. But in the middle of the room there are two chairs in front of the old and extremely worn mahogany desk. I don’t understand why something so old is still here. Why would he choose this desk when he could have literally any desk he wanted in the entire known world?
Behind it, there is the same leather chair that I remember from years ago. I remember thinking it resembled a throne, and when Albert would sit on it, it was like he was in complete control over me. Only now it isn’t so big and a lot less intimidating. I remember seeing the girl, seeing myself, walk into the room with tears streaming down her face, being scared out of her wits. I straighten my spine and take some deep breaths.
I am different to who I was back then. Nothing can scare me now. I’ve already seen it all.
The leather chair gleams in the light of the fake window. The window displays a serene sight of a street of a small town with children running along the road and playing. I know that it’s fake because they are playing in what is now the ruins of a town near Beast Eye, only back then it was a beautiful city.
This is what the Great War did to people. It tore all beautiful things apart. The reality of the image is almost strong enough to convince me that Albert trying to achieve ‘peace’ is a good thing.
But it only takes me one look at him to remind me of the mass corruption inside him. The hurt that he has caused so many people. His idea of peace is tailored only to the people that suit his idea of what it means. He hand picks the people that will fit into his society and throws away the rest.
“Sit,” he says assertively. Jasper and I sit in sync, back straight, eyes focused solely on him. I don’t want to listen to him, I want to openly defy him, but I know that a small part of me is still the little girl that crawls into a ball when he walks into the room. I hate to admit it, but there is a little part of me that still fears the hand of control that he has over me.
But I don’t want to be that little girl anymore. I am stronger. So, I stand back up expecting him to lash out at me so that I can lash out at him. Let out all of the anger that has built fortresses all around me, crushing me every second I think of him.
