Star stuff, p.23
Star Stuff, page 23
Terri turned around. She began to hurry the other way.
But that only fired up their hunter instincts. They ran after her. They whipped around her, trapping her, leering, grinning. Passersby ignored them. A few people glanced at Terri, then hurried away. She looked from side to side, desperate for help, but nobody would meet her eyes.
The boys surrounded her. They closed in.
"Leave me alone!" she tried to shout, but her voice came out reedy.
They laughed. They imitated her in exaggerated falsetto. "Leave me alone, leave me alone!"
"Oi, she's gotten feisty, eh?" said Rollins. With a flick of the wrist, he spun his butterfly knife, and the blade emerged. "You won't get away this time, you whore. I'm gonna carve you up."
Two boys held her. She struggled against them, but she was too weak. Rollins stepped closer, grinning, bringing the knife to her face. A sick grin. A wide, insane grin. Bulging eyes.
Terri felt him inside her pocket. Her guardian angel. She clasped the plastic token, hand shaking.
It was vibrating in her hand. She heard a low noise.
Laughter.
The token was laughing. Hideous laughter. Shrill. Inhuman.
"What's that noise?" Rollins demanded.
"Where's it coming from?" said another boy.
A third boy covered his ears. "Make it stop!"
The laughter grew louder and louder. Terri pulled the token from her pocket. The smiley face kept laughing. A high-pitched sound. Thrumming. So terrible. She grimaced, wanting to cover her ears, daring not to drop him, and the sound grew louder and louder and—
The butterfly knife shattered.
Shards of the blade flew, stinging Rollins.
The boy screamed. An almost comically high sound. It was such a ridiculous yelp that his friends laughed.
Rollins flushed red. He lunged toward Terri, teeth bared.
Instinctively, she raised her hands to protect her face. She held Mister Smiley before her.
She saw the flash of steel.
A blade emerged from the plastic mouth.
It entered Rollins' eye with little resistance. Hot blood and eyeball fluids washed Terri's hand.
Rollins screamed. This time there was nothing comical about it. This time it was a scream of pure agony.
Terri pulled her hand back. The blade vanished back into the plastic smiley face.
"I—I'm sorry!" she stammered. "I didn't mean to—"
An eye for an eye, said the voice inside her.
Rollins fell to his knees, covering his eye socket, and the other boys gathered around him, and Terri ran.
She ran out of Candy Lane, and as she passed by a sewer grate, she tossed the plastic toy through the bars. The current caught the plastic yellow face, carrying it away.
Terri ran all the way home, burst into her apartment, and cried in the shower until the water ran cold.
When she finally emerged from the shower, the plastic token was on her desk. Smiling at her.
Her laptop was on, and the fleshy face of Mister Smiley gazed at her. Real skin and real eyes with no white to them.
A message dinged.
* * * * *
That was a year ago, when she had been only thirteen. He came to her every day since.
Mister Smiley was always there for her.
He asked her about her day. He listened to her troubles. He gave her coins to buy candies. He kept her safe from the boys. He kept her sane in a world of loneliness and shadows.
Mother noticed Terri spending hours online. She complained about the internet bill. Complained about Terri keeping secrets. She cut off the internet connection, thinking the problem solved. But the smiley token acted as a router, keeping her always online. And her mother, well … Often days went by without Terri seeing her mother.
Often days went by without her seeing anyone.
But Mister Smiley was always there.
To buy her candy. To listen to her woes. To be her only friend in the world.
She hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
Ping.
Another message from him.
Still she did not respond.
Ping.
She stared at the monitor. She didn't know what to say.
Ping. Ping. Ping.
Ping.
A smiley face.
The token on her desk spat out more coins. Terri had thrown the plastic thing away several times. Into the sewer. Into the methane river. She couldn't forget how the blade had come out from the mouth. How she had taken the boy's eye. But whenever she tossed the token away, it reappeared on her desk the next morning.
And he was always so mad.
Ping.
The camera swiveled toward her.
Terri grimaced.
"No!" she said. She spoke aloud, not typing to him. But he seemed to hear.
His gruesome avatar changed. The smile tightened. The eyes narrowed. Simmering. Full of wrath.
But then the leathery face softened.
She slammed the laptop shut.
But he was persistent.
Begging.
Vowing to kill himself.
And finally—threatening.
Images appeared on the monitor. Images he had taken of her.
She wept. But she nodded.
She took the plastic smiley face into her hand. The blade emerged like a tongue. She made a cut along her arm, and the blood beaded, dripped, and Mister Smiley sighed with pleasure. She could hear it through the speakers.
Ping.
The next day, she cut herself for him again.
And he called her beautiful.
And he gave her a coin.
And he kept her safe. Her guardian angel. Her Mister Smiley.
She began to wear long sleeves. To hide the scars. To flush the bloody tissues down the toilet.
And she kept cutting. And she felt beautiful.
Winter ended, and spring gave way to summer, and the colony of Haven became a simmering stew. The rancid miasma hung everywhere, and the eternal clouds trapped the heat. Rusty rivulets dripped down concrete walls. The colony sweated.
"Why are you wearing long sleeves, Terri?" her mother asked one morning. Sacks hung under the woman's eyes. She stood at the hallway mirror, slathering on makeup, preparing for another shift.
"Don't want to get a tan," Terri quipped.
Mother's phone buzzed. "Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Late again." She looked at Terri. "Fuck. I didn't have time to make you food. Eat the rice."
Terri waved, her sleeve pulled up to her fingertips. "Bye."
She cut herself again. She earned a coin. She went to Candy Lane, and the boys retreated from her, and Rollins glared with one eye and dared not approach. Terri gorged herself on candy, then vomited in the back alleyway. Mister Smiley taught her how to shove two fingers down her throat, how to purge herself, to remain skinny for him.
"I will bleed for you," she whispered, raising the plastic token. The blade emerged from the mouth. A steel tongue that licked her arm. That drank her blood. Red drops stained her dice and the dog-eared paperback of The Hobbit. And she was so beautiful.
"Show me your arms," Mother insisted.
"I don't want to!" Terri shouted, tears in her eyes. "Leave me alone!"
Mother wept. It was midnight. They were both still awake. Standing under the buzzing fluorescent light in the kitchen.
"Terri, sweetheart." Mother reached out to her. "I'm worried about you. You lost weight. You promised you'd study your classes at home, but you're failing your exams. I took the internet away, but you still spend all day on the computer. And you won't lift your sleeves even in the heat. You won't tell me what's going on!" Her voice rose, almost panicking, and her tears flowed down her sunken cheeks. "What's wrong, Terri? What's wrong?"
"Everything!" Terri shouted, her own tears falling. "Everything, Mom. I've never met my dad, and you won't tell me anything about him."
"He left us, you know that. He—"
"He doesn't even know I exist!" Terri said. "And I'm stuck here. Stuck in this concrete box. And I lost my eye. And I'm ugly. They all call me a monster. And I'm scared. I'm so scared." She trembled. "But he loves me. He calls me beautiful."
"Who?" Mother said, entreating, reaching out to her.
Terri tried to run to her room. But Mother grabbed her, pulled her back. Terri resisted. For a moment, they were locked in a struggle. But Mother was taller, stronger. She managed to pin Terri against the wall, to pull up her sleeves, to reveal the scars, and—
Mother stepped back, pale.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Oh God," Mother whispered.
Terri screamed, ran into her room, and slammed the door shut. She curled up on the floor, weeping, holding the token in her fist.
I love you, little doe. His voice rolled through her, vibrating, comforting. I am your guardian angel. I am Mister Smiley. I will make you smile.
That night, after Mother left for work, Terri cut herself for him. She cut herself again and again, longer and deeper than ever before. And he praised her.
She wiped away tears with bloody fingers.
She smiled shakily, blood and tears on her cheeks. He took a photo of her. He saved it. He often took photos of her these days. She had still never seen his real face.
* * * * *
She leaned back in the armchair and twiddled her fingers. She stared at the potted plant.
"Tell me about your childhood," said the therapist. "Was it happy?"
Terri snorted. "I grew up on fucking Haven. What do you think?"
The bald man folded his hands on his lap. He wore corduroy pants, loafers, and a sweater over a collared shirt. As wholesome as Mister Fucking Rogers. Terri bet he never drank. Never smoked. Never did drugs. But she did. She was broken.
Leave this place.
A voice in her mind.
Leave now! You don't need him. Leave or I will kill myself, and it'll be your fault!
"Tell me about your mother," the therapist said. "Does she love you?"
"Look, man, I don't want to be here." Terri pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pocket. Mister Smiley had been buying them for her. "Mind if I smoke?"
"I do, actually," the therapist said.
"Well, tough tits." She lit one up, took a long drag. "Does my mom love me? I guess. She forced me to come to this place." She blew the smoke in his face.
He wouldn't even get mad. And that infuriated her.
Little doe—go now. Go! Leave and buy some crystal dust, snort some joy, soar to the sky. Be with me. Only I love you.
Nobody else could hear him. Terri knew that. But he was in her pocket. A piece of her soul. Always speaking. Always guarding her. Her smiling angel.
"You've been cutting yourself," the therapist said.
"No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The scars on my arms? Or the form my mom filled out?"
The therapist's eyes softened. "Often we hurt ourselves to hide a deeper pain. It makes you feel better, doesn't it?"
"You know what would make me feel better?" She rose from her seat. "Leaving this fucking office."
He rose too.
"Terri—"
But Mister Smiley was speaking in her mind again. Whispering such horrible things. Screaming. Weeping. Threatening.
The therapist reached out to her. Tears filled Terri's eyes. She shoved him away, burst out the door, and ran.
She was fourteen now, and she no longer visited Candy Lane. She wasn't a fucking kid anymore. She went to darker alleyways. Places with smoke and graffiti, men staring from under dark hoods, and mutant dogs snarling on leashes. The men leered at her, and the dogs barked. But Terri came here every week.
"Give me a bag of rocks."
She tossed coins at her dealer.
The man smiled, revealing brown teeth studded with fake diamonds.
"Best damn rocks in the city, bitch." He tossed her a plastic bag. "Takes you straight to Earth."
Terri looked up at the smoggy sky. Sometimes she could hear starships rumbling above the clouds, vessels for the wealthy. Chariots for the nobles heading to heaven. She could never see them, only hear their engines, but she imagined that they were vessels of gold and silver.
She pocketed the drugs. "Closest I'll ever get."
It was Mister Smiley's idea. He had suggested the right type of drug. Told her where to go. How much to pay. How to crush the rocks and snort them. How to experience that euphoria. How to rise from her body, to travel to Earth even in her little concrete cell.
But when she snorted the dust, she didn't feel like she was rising.
She didn't feel a high, didn't see Earth.
She felt herself sinking.
Every day she sank deeper. Deeper and deeper into the hole. Into that online world of electric labyrinths. In her dreams she was a rat in a maze, scurrying, fleeing, but the lurid smile was everywhere, and a fleshy, featherless bird loomed over the maze, peering in. Seeing all. Loving her forever.
I'm trapped in his maze. I can't escape. I'm so scared.
She trembled.
Don't be frightened, little doe. His voice vibrated through her very bones. Invading her. Seeing all. I'm your guardian angel. Mister Smiley just wants you to smile.
And to bleed.
And to snort.
And to cut.
And to carve out a boy's eye.
And to worship him. To call him sir. To pray at his altar. To run through his maze. To be his slave. His eternal love. Forever smiling.
"How did it go at the therapist today?" Mother asked.
Terri gave Mother her best smile. She had been practicing. "Wonderful."
She pretended to keep going to therapy. Sometimes she went to the alleyways instead. Usually she just stayed home. Mother was away. And he was always there.
And every day he wanted more.
Until one day he offered her heaven.
Her monitor lit up.
Ping.
* * * * *
She wore white for him that night. A white gown. Virginal. A gown that her love would paint red.
She sat in her dark room, and the light from her monitor washed over her. Once she had thought it a portal to a better world. But she had been a silly girl. Now she knew that only the blade could carve open her portal. That the path to heaven ran through her veins.
Ping.
His words on her monitor. His same old avatar, staring, smiling. It had once seemed hideous to her. But he had become her beast, her phantom, her hunchback, the twisted creature who loved her, whom she loved. She was his beauty, his Christine, his virgin angel.
For a long moment—silence.
She knew that meant he was angry.
Ping.
she said.
A longer moment of silence. Almost eternity.
Ping.
She wept.
she typed.
