17 February 2012
I was put in ‘ere coz I raped a six year old kiddie. I can’t remember nah if it was a boy or girl, but the way I see it, at that age it don’t make much diff’rence. In any case, it weren’t a matter of attraction to this or that at all.
The doctors, lawyers, judges an’ all the uvver pros who get a look in wi’ someone who’s done sumfin’ like me are convinced it’s all abaht pahr. You know, like I got a kick from dominatin’ it.
But that ain’t true neiver. I’m quite ‘efty, so ‘ow could I get excited ‘baht ‘avin’ pahr over a little fing like that? I could’ve snapped it in two. Ridiculous. The fact they wanna believe it, or do believe it, says more abaht them, I reckon, than they fink they know abaht me.
They say they wanna understand ev’ryfin’, but really they need to make fings fit a picture in their ‘ead. They love fittin’ ev’ryfin’ into a nice pattern, wot they calls a model. An’ that, I reckon, stops ‘em bein’ able to see the troof, keeps ‘em from graspin’ wot’s goin’ on, kinda like love in gen’ral. ‘Love is blind,’ they say. Well, I reckon it’s worse’n that. Love makes you see wot you wanna see, or wot it wants you to see, or wot someone or sumfin’ else wants you to see. If you’re blind, you don’t see bugger all, but, unless you’re really unlucky, at least you can still feel your way abaht.
You can listen too, which is wot these pros don’t do. I know I prob’ly sahnd like ev’ry criminal who finks they’re misunderstood, but all I know is wot’s ‘appened to me an’ they ‘ain’t listened at all. They ‘ear wot fits the model, coz that tells ‘em they’re right. Anyfin’ else’d mean they’d ‘ave to go back an’ refink a few fings, maybe a lot o’fings, an’ then they might find aht ‘ow wrong they was way back when. They might’ve condemned someone to this or that or the uvver coz of ‘ow bloody wrong they was, an’ ‘ow could they deal wi’ that? None of us can deal wi’ that. If you’re labeled a nonce, you’ll always be a nonce, simple as that.
In my case the nonce is well placed I s’pose, but only if by nonce you mean I did it to a kiddie, an’ nuffin more, coz – as I reckon I already said – I ain’t attracted to ‘em. Kiddies or the idea of doin’ it to kiddies don’t do it for me. That’s wot does the pros’ ‘eads in, or would do if they’d actually listen to me. As it is, the more I tell ‘em the less they ‘ear. They’re too busy fittin’ me an’ them an’ the kiddie an’ ev’ryfin’ into their model before we’ve even got goin’.
Wot actually led me to it is the fight between good an’ evil, pure an’ simple, not me fancyin’ kiddies. An’ that’s bin rahnd forever, which is a lot longer’n their models, but they won’t ‘ear it. Close as only two or free ‘undred years ago, maybe less, it would’ve bin accepted as a motive no trouble. Today, these learn-ed people refuse to listen, pronounce me doolally, an’ try an’ say it weren’t really my fault.
People on the street, though, they can’t wait to use that four letter word, ‘evil’, abaht people like me. As they spit it aht, I can ‘ear the blood rushin’ froo ‘em, the animal in ‘em droolin’ at the fought of rippin’ me apart. I smell it, their righteousness. But even they need me to be just me, anuvver ‘uman bein’. They don’t wanna ‘ear there really is evil – that might let me off the ‘ook. It ‘as to be just me, me an’ my choices.
It occurs to me I should tell you just ‘ow easy it was. It’s almost amazin’ ‘ow well I managed to ‘ide in the bushes near the playgrahnd, given me size. But ‘owever scared people say they are, most don’t expect anyone to be in the bushes.
The fing that’s made me laugh most is some bloody idiots ‘ave actually started campaignin’ to get bushes removed from parks. Prob’ly led by the kiddie’s muvver, who at the time was too busy talkin’ on the ‘phone an’ stuffin’ ‘er face to notice it was gone for the first minute or so. I’d pretty much done wot I was there to do before she started screamin’. But of course, it was mainly dahn to the bushes.
They call it a knee jerk reaction, sayin’ we should ‘ave rules an’ laws an’ that just coz sumfin’ ‘appened, but it’s worse’n that. A knee jerk’s sumfin’ that ‘appens when the doctor taps your knee in the right place ain’t it, you can’t ‘elp it. But the people who come up wi’them rules actually fink abaht it, even if only for a minute. I used to wonder if they really did believe it ‘emselves, but after all this, after wot I’ve learned, I reckon they do. Theirself is the one person they do listen to, even if they still don’t ‘ear that much.
So I crept silently – well, I must’ve bin pretty quiet – into the playgrahnd, grabbed the kiddie from be’ind, put one ‘and over its mahf, an’ took it back into the bushes I come from. I kept that ‘and over its mahf, bein’ careful not to suffocate it, used the uvver to open me trahses, pulled its shorts dahn, an’ did wot needed doin’. Less than a couple of minutes later, wiv the cries of the muvver fillin’ the air, I throw the kid aht the bushes, an’ I’m off, unseen.
An’ yes, I was unseen. So ‘ow did I end up ‘ere? We’ll get to that, once I’ve said wot needs sayin’. Coz anuvver lie is someone always sees. They don’t. The few cases you ‘ear abaht in the news are just that – the few. Can you remember ‘ow many missin’ people or murder stories you ‘eard abaht that was never solved, nobody ever caught? Course you can’t. An’ you’ve no idea ‘ow many aren’t reported – coz the missin’ person ain’t the right sort, or the parents don’t look right, or it ain’t the right place.
Lots of times, nobody sees. An’ nobody saw me, but that’s no surprise. I’ve wondered if they would’ve suspected me even if they ‘ad sin me, an’ fought abaht ‘ow easy it would’ve bin to get rid of the evidence that sent me dahn, but those wond’rin’s are just for me own fun. Ev’ry time I know ‘ow easy it would’ve bin, it reminds me ‘ow pleased we are I didn’t let it end like that.
That way, there would’ve bin sadness, disgust, confusion, maybe a bit of anger, but wivaht me, wivaht the monster, there wouldn’t ‘ave bin the fury, the rage. It’d still ‘ave bin there, but eventually most would’ve forgotten abaht it, anuvver awful crime on a kiddie that was reported then faded away. The kiddie itself might, or probably would’ve pushed that memory deep dahn. That could’ve led to ‘em ‘urtin’ a few uvvers dahn the years, ‘idden feelin’s leadin’ ‘em froo a sad an’ angry life, so it wouldn’t’ve bin a total loss.
This way, ‘atred an’ violence devastates the world, sumfin’ one person could never do on their own. For this I ‘ad to be visible, I ‘ad to be known. But I only let it aht. A spark don’t cause a fire on its own – a fire needs stuff to burn an’ air to burn in don’t it. Wiv enough material an’ enough room, it’ll burn forever.
If all the ‘atred and violence weren’t there already, I never would’ve done wot I did anyway. Not only would there’ve bin no point, it just wouldn’t’ve come up. Wivaht a chance of success, I never would’ve bin asked. I’m not sure there would’ve bin anyfin’ to do the askin’, if the world weren’t the way it is.
I’ve a feelin’ I’m gettin’ a bit cryptic. I ‘ave to admit I’m enjoyin’ it a bit, but really I’m puttin’ off tellin’ you somethin’ you’re prob’ly not gonna believe. I’ve bin burned by the pros you see. You’ll side wiv them an’ all those people who was there to see me off an’ back again in the van, the men an’ women who beat at it an’ screamed their fear an’ anger. As I listened to ‘em, me insides shuddered, I properly felt their rage. I imagined flingin’ open the doors an’ chuckin’ myself to ‘em, to their ‘ands that wanted nuffin’ more than to rip me apart.
Can you be sure you wouldn’t be wiv ‘em? ‘ow abaht if I told you wot it was like to rape that kiddie, ‘ow it felt? ‘ow I didn’t once look at its face, not coz I felt bad, but coz if I saw it I wouldn’t be able to imagine it was ev’ry child I’d ever sin. Or that, by violatin’ that innocent little body, I was teachin’ ev’ry ‘uman bein’ just ‘ow easily it could be owned an’ used, an’ by me?
If that gets to you, you best go back an’ start list’nin’ again. I already told you, I weren’t gettin’ off on pahr or domination or anyfin’ like that. Rapin’ one kiddie is rapin’ one kiddie, no more, that’s bloody obvious. But I reckon you’re more ready to ‘ear that rubbish than you are the troof. So, you’ll be wiv ‘em, even if you don’t wanna claw me eyes aht. You might even pity me. All the bloody same.
Once I’d left the scene, unseen, I went an’ sat on a bench on the uvver side of the park. I might’ve still bin able to ‘ear the wails of the muvver. Wot I was most aware of was that fing against me figh, ‘ot an’ damp. Later on we fahnd aht it was blood, which I s’pose I should’ve realised. But you can’t know ‘ow little I felt abaht it, one way or the uvver.
When it was dark I stood up an’ wandered back towards the playgrahnd. There was police abaht, plastic tape an’ white cotton all-in-ones. A few gawpers. I fink we was all disappointed there weren’t a little white tent, but I knew a murder wouldn’t’ve done the trick. Well, I’d bin told, an’ I believed.
I left the park an’ walked along the pavement, wond’rin’ why you don’t see workmen’s tents on the street no more. I ‘ad little else to fink abaht. Just some time to kill before I did wot I ‘ad to do next, an’ wot would ‘appen after that ‘appened.
As I walked, I was finkin’ abaht ‘ow the world was gonna change but stay the same. The pictures on telly’d be ones we’d already sin. Which meant people might not realise the troof, if they couldn’t believe me, an’ I started to worry. Vain foughts. It ain’t ‘ow we get there that’s important, it’s that we do. I know that nah. But even I, knowin’ wot I do, was almost seduced by glamour for a moment.
As I walked in froo the door, I realised I’d never bin in a police station before. It’s strange that ain’t it, ‘ow you’re sometimes surprised when you realise you didn’t do sumfin’, rather than that you did. It’s prob’ly coz of the telly – I must’ve sin the inside of loads of fake police stations, enough to make me fink I’d actually bin in one. Come to fink of it, ‘ospitals never seem laid aht right. Maybe we’d be a lot ‘appier wiv the national ‘ealth if we didn’t ‘ave ‘ospital dramas.
That said, it did look exactly like one on telly, but then again ‘ow much are they gonna vary? Desk, walls, white posters wiv blue writin’, chairs, an’ doors designed to keep you on wotever side of ‘em you are. Be’ind these I could see coppers movin’ abaht, but wevver they was busier or more ‘urried than usual I can’t say.
There was no uvver people on my side of the desk, an’ a middle aged copper on the uvver, lookin’ at me.
“I’m ‘ere to confess to the rape of the kiddie in the park,” I said.
The next five minutes was some of the most fascinatin’ of me life. I ‘ad a single statement to make, a flat aht confession, nuffin more’. An’, you would fink, nuffin’ more needed. But this copper ‘ad real trouble fixin’ on ‘ow to respond. Didn’t know wot to do, poor love. That was the one time I felt sorry for anyone durin’ the ‘ole fing.
Eventually they got me on the uvver side of the door an’ started questionin’ me. Did I want a lawyer? No. Was I confessin’ to rapin’ that child? Yes. Why did I do it? I was asked to. By who? Satan. Wot? Satan. Satan? Yes. ‘ow did I do it? ‘ow d’you fink. Did I ‘ave anyfin’ else to say? No. Over an’ over. Except the lawyer bit.
That went on for a while, then I was taken to be examined, which is when they fahnd it, the blood covered… fing. I’m still not sure wot it’s called. I was so relieved to see ‘em on the shelf like in a normal shop. So many shapes an’ sizes, some even looked like a man’s parts, as far as I can remember.
I felt a change come over ev’ryfin’ then, as they started to believe me. Well, believe I done it. All I ‘ad to do was keep to me story, to the troof. I was moved from police station to prison, where at night I could ‘ear the uvver inmates – the ones who should’ve bin there an’ the ones who shouldn’t – singin’ for me. The first time I ‘eard it, fillin’ the ‘alls – even locked away, as I was, far from ‘arm, kept safe – I knew I’d done it right.
The trial breezed past. Back an’ forf in vans, people shahtin’, telly cameras, lots of questions an’ the same answers from me. Why they wanted to know ‘ow I felt when I was doin’ it I still don’t understand. I just refused to answer. Nah that made me feel pahrful, realisin’ I simply didn’t ‘ave to answer. They got nuffin’ more aht of me.
So I was sent dahn, sent ‘ere. I got no idea ‘ow long for, but I reckon for ever. The one fing that’s bov’rin’ me is that I ain’t allahd to watch telly, an’ I ‘ave to admit me vanity ‘as me fixed on watchin’ wot’s goin’ on ahtside. Sometimes I can ‘ear fings that sahnd promisin’, but I’d like to see wiv me own eyes. But I do know it’s vain, an’ I remind meself I just ‘ave to trust in ‘im an’ wot ‘e told me would ‘appen, to them an’ me.
I ain’t lonely neiver. I bin on me own so long I know ‘ow to do it, but even so, I know it ain’t gonna be for very long. Soon enough ‘e’ll take me away.
The devil, it turns aht, is exactly wot people fink ‘e is. Not all red an’ ‘orny, but ‘e did use to live in ‘eaven an’ ‘e was frohn aht. ‘e lives in ‘ell, but ‘ell is just ‘ere, earf. ‘ell ain’t uvver people, like they say, but it is where god ain’t, which is where people generally are.
When we die we are goin’ to ‘eaven but we ain’t gonna be us no more. All our souls are bits of god that ‘e sort of chopped off so ‘e could make us, an’ when we die the bits go back to him an’ ‘e carries on makin’ more of us. Why does ‘e do that? I asked. Coz it’s bored, said satan. It likes watchin’ us, wot we do an’ that. Just sits abaht makin’ predictions, which are wrong most of the time.
Satan an’ all the uvver beings wot we call angels are also bits of god, but ‘e made ‘em immortal so as they could be ‘is workers. ‘e gave ‘em free will same as ‘e gave us, but of course they also know the troof abaht where they come from. For most this was enough to keep ‘em loyal to ‘im, but satan an’ some uvvers, after fousands of years of wot they came to fink of as slavery, ‘ad enough. They got bored too. So god sent ‘em down ‘ere, to live wiv us, forever, or until ‘e gets bored wiv the ‘ole fing an’ brings us all back to ‘im.
As you can imagine, it was a bit of a shock, but at the same time I’ve never bin religious one way or the uvver an’ it’s just as likely or unlikely as any of the uvver stories I reckon. An’ on top of that, I ‘ad the word of the devil. The one fing I can’t explain is ‘ow I know ‘e was tellin’ me the troof. I just know, more than anyfin’ I’ve ever known. It’s the same feelin’ as knowin’, just more, bigger. Like the way I know I’m ‘ere nah, speakin’.
Why you ‘ere speakin’ to me then? I asked ‘im. It’s interestin’, I can’t deny that, but why you tellin’ me? You just spreadin’ the word or wot? I can’t see ‘ow you can do anyfin’ abaht it.
That’s when ‘e told me the plan. It’s all abaht the free will ‘e said. ‘e as it, an’ we ‘ave it, so we can make stuff ‘appen if we want. A lot of the time we’re doin’ the sort of fing ‘e ‘as in mind anyway, but we only ever go so far coz, wotever we might say, very few of us is ever really sure we’re goin’ to ‘eaven. So we kill an’ maim each uvver, but we do it in an ‘alf ‘earted way, an’ stop when we fink we’ve got wot we was after.
Wot ‘e wants to do is much more ambitious, usin’ ‘is knowledge an’ our pahr. ‘e wants to set sumfin’ off in us so we keep killin’ until we’re all dead. ‘e reckons if we see enough of wot we really are – which is god, the terrible god wot killed loads of kiddies an’ drowned ev’ryfin’ in a flood just coz ‘e was bored – we won’t wanna live no more. That ain’t to say we’ll kill ourselves, coz the strongest fing in us is the feelin’ of bein’ alive. No, we’ll turn that disgust an’ self ‘atred on each uvver.
‘e told me ‘e’s tried various fings in the past, startin’ wars an’ that, ‘itler an’ Stalin an’ Pol Pot an’ all those bloodfirsty kings. But they was all so vain they wanted too much for ‘emselves. An’ coz people was spread aht, an’ there weren’t many of ‘em abaht, they didn’t get to see for ‘emselves wot they was capable of. Nah though, the population’s exploded an’ most of it is sittin’ in front of a telly, seein’ all sorts of stuff ev’ry day. Murders an’ rapes an’ bombins an’ all that, loud an’ bright for all of us to see ‘ow disgustin’ we are.
The reckonin’, then, is that ‘e’s closer to pushin’ it all over the edge than ‘e ever ‘as bin. Which is lucky for me, coz it means I ‘ave this story to tell, although, vain as I am, I know I ain’t the only one. All over the world, people are committin’ the most ‘orrible, unexplainable, unexpected crimes, on kiddies, wrinklies, spastics, the lot. ‘e reckons if enuff women like me rape kiddies, an’ kiddies slit the froats of spastics in wheelchairs, an’ stuff like that, then we’ll all lose it. We’ll tear each uvver apart til there’s none of us left.
Wot then? I asked. So we all go back to god. Won’t you still be stuck ‘ere? ‘e told me I was right. But ‘e said ‘e ‘ad a feory that all that bad feelin’, that anger, that rage that’s let aht would start to build up in god, an’ eventually tear it apart. But you don’t know, I said. You might be wrong, it might do nuffin’. Right again, ‘e said, but it’s worf a try, ain’t it? That ‘orrible git ‘as bin playin’ wiv us all forever an’ gettin’ away wiv it, somefin’s gotta be done, ‘e said. ‘e can’t get away wiv it wivaht us tryin’.
Well, it weren’t the best of plans, but I could see ‘is point an’, as I said, I just knew ‘e was tellin’ the troof. Obviously I was convinced, uvverwise I wouldn’t be ‘ere. I’ve never bin fond of a bully or someone who finks they can just do wot they want, an’ I couldn’t see wot else could be done. If we didn’t give it a go, the world would just go on an’ on for ‘is sake, an’ that made me feel sad, finkin’ ‘ow many people would go froo so much just to stop ‘im bein’ bored. Wot’s one little raped kiddie if you can ‘elp save billions from ‘arm?
The fing I’m glad I ‘aven’t ‘ad to deal wiv is knowin’, like satan does, that ‘e’s a part of god, part of the fing ‘e’s tryin’ to punish. Or not knowin’ it as such, coz since ‘e told me I’ve known meself, but really havin’ to feel it. When I asked ‘im abaht it, ‘e started to cry, so ‘e didn’t ‘ave to say much abaht ‘ow it felt. But ‘e did say, frough ‘is sobs, this weren’t really abaht punishment. ‘e wanted it to be a lesson for god, yeah, but just so’s it’d change its ways. All ‘e wanted was to get back to ‘eaven an’ then, ‘e ‘oped, be a part of god again.
I could tell ‘e was set on ‘is plan, an’ I’d already decided I’d do wot ‘e suggested, but I can’t say as I believed ‘e was as confident as ‘e tried to make aht. ‘e looked like a fella I used to know who was an alcoholic. ‘e always looked really tired, ‘is eyes all bloodshot when e’d look up at me an’ say ‘e was gonna give up the booze. ‘e barely ‘ad enough strengf to get ‘imself to the offy, let alone a clinic. Don’t know wot ‘appened to ‘im, but all I ever wished for ‘im was a rest, ‘owever it might come abaht.
After I’d made ‘im, satan that is, a nice cup of tea an’ brought ‘im some tissues to clean ‘imself up wiv, I made it as clear as I could that of course I’d ‘elp ‘im, an’ it seemed like a good plan, don’t you worry dear. ‘e fanked me an’ then, whilst we ‘ad our tea, ‘e told me wot I needed to do an’ reassured me that, don’t worry ‘ow, but I wouldn’t be found aht until I decided to tell ‘em. It all seemed as easy as it actually turned aht to be.
An’ ‘ere I am, waitin’ to be taken away. I’m not sure exactly when I’ll be off, but I know I will be. I’m wond’rin’, again just for meself, if I’ll be able to remember any of this when I’m back where I come from, back in god. An’, if I can, will I be angry wiv meself? Or wiv the rest of me? Or even satan. For nah, though, I’m ‘appy as I ever ‘ave bin, knowin’ I’ve done me bit.
From the report of Prison Officer ██████ on ██th █████ ████ regardin’ the deaf of Pris’ner ██████, Miss Nichola Brahn.
At approximately 12.35pm I entered █ Wing where Pris’ner ██████ woz ‘eld in solit’ry confinement. On enterin’ the Wing an’ makin’ me way to the cell of Pris’ner ██████ I didn’t see or ‘ear anyfing aht the ordin’ry.
When I reached the cell I opened the viewin’ window in the door. The inside of the cell woz splattered wiv red stuff which I assumed to be blood. Amongst the blood I could see wot looked like bone, flesh an’ ‘air. At this point I raised the alarm.
I then opened the door of the cell to find aht wevver or not Pris’ner ██████ woz inside. I didn’t go in but I could see nobody was there. The bed, sink an’ toilet was covered wiv the red stuff, an’ the three walls I could see were ‘eavily spattered, the one be’ind the bed more than the uvvers.
When I looked dahn at the floor I saw a black music tape wiv a white label wiv writin’ on it. There was no red stuff on the tape. I took a pen from me pocket, bent dahn an’ used it to pick up the tape. I read the writin’ on the label. It said: “This is the troof”. I didn’t see nor ‘ad I ever sin a tape recorder in the cell.
From the report of Doctor ████████ on ██th of █████ ████ regardin’ the deaf of Pris’ner ██████, Miss Nichola Brahn.
I woz called to the cell of Pris’ner ██████ at approximately 1.35pm. The cell appeared to be covered wiv blood an’ guts. I said there was nuffin’ I could do coz there weren’t enuff body in one place to be sure there was sumfin’ I could declare dead.
Report of Investigatin’ Officer ████████ on ██th of █████ ████ regardin’ the deaf of Pris’ner ██████, Miss Nichola Brahn.
Blood an’ tissue was taken from the cell of Pris’ner ██████ an’ later confirmed to belong to Pris’ner ██████. No uvver DNA was fahnd in the cell uvver than that of prison staff an’ then as would be expected.
No evidence of the presence of anyone uvver than Pris’ner ██████ durin’ wotever ‘appened was fahnd. No weapon was fahnd.
The location an’ concentration of blood an’ tissue didn’t suggest a fight between two or more ‘uman bein’s or a ‘uman bein’ an’ an animal. There woz no signs of struggle, includin’ no bloody ‘andprints on the walls or doors, an’ no footprints in the blood on the floor.
It’s ‘ighly unlikely, if not impossible, that Pris’ner ██████ could’ve done it to ‘erself. Given there was no weapon, the investigation team is ‘appy to rule aht that possibility.
The investigation team ‘as no explanation to offer as to wot might‘ve occurred in the cell of Pris’ner ██████ wiv which it’s ‘appy. The evidence suggests Pris’ner ██████ suffered some kind of total trauma the like of which we don’t know abaht.
No equipment which could‘ve bin used to make a tape recordin’ was fahnd in the cell. Analysis of the tape suggests the recordin’ was made in the usual way.
Copyright Dan Sumners 2011