He’s here.
“Hiya, mate. Sorry I’m late.”
He’s always friendly like that. I don’t talk back.
“I brought you a treat. Pizza.” He grins at me.
I don’t want it to, but my mouth waters. I’m so hungry my tummy hurts.
“It’s a bit cold. It’s a walk from the car to get to here. Should’ve built this place closer.”
He always complains. Especially when he has to fill up the water tank.
“How you doing, mate? You look cold. You should wrap up in the duvet when you’re cold.”
There’s something wrong. He’s avoiding my eye and I don’t know why. He’s never brought pizza to the cage before. Why is he doing this? I stare hungrily at the pizza. I cross my arms and try to figure out why something feels wrong.
“Want to come out here and eat?” he asks.
I nod.
He puts the pizza box on the table and reaches into his pocket for the key. His fingers are shaking. Why is he trembling like he’s scared? He never has been before. Not even right at the beginning. It always frightens me that he’s so calm and in control. I never liked that. It used to make me think about what else he could do. What was he capable of? I decided he was capable of anything very early on and that was why I did everything he told me to do, no matter what.
It takes him a few attempts to unlock the cage door. He’s fumbling with his keys. He keeps his head angled away from me. I stand away like I always do. I’m not allowed near the door to my cage. I have to keep my hands out in front of me where he can see them, otherwise he’s forced to hurt me like he did the time he stamped on my ankle. Or he tells me he’ll put me back in the shackles like at the beginning.
“Stay there, Aiden,” he says in a croaky voice. “Wait at the back for a moment.”
It doesn’t feel right. He’s different today. I’ve been wondering for a while whether he’s trying to figure something out, like he’s been struggling to make a decision. Now, watching him, it seems to me that he’s made a decision and it isn’t a good one. It isn’t a decision like whether to eat pizza or Chinese takeaway, it’s something horrible. I can feel it. My insides are all squirmy, like they’re moving. I’m not hungry anymore. I just want to throw up.
The door swings open and he stands there looking at me. There are tears in his eyes.
“You’re a good boy, Aiden. You’ve always been a good boy. We’ve loved each other, haven’t we? You’ve loved me? I love you?”
I don’t answer. I’m not sure I know what love is anymore. I don’t think it’s this, though. I don’t think love should make you feel dirty like I do now.
He takes a step back, with his eyes all shiny and wet. He’s looking at me now. He won’t stop looking at me. His arm reaches back behind him and his fingers fumble with the pizza box.
I don’t think there’s pizza in there.
The lid flips open and he grabs the wooden bat inside, like the kind I used to play sports with. Rounders. That’s what it was called. We ran to bases after hitting the ball with the bat. I was always good, I got picked first. I cower away from him. That squirming feeling in my tummy is gone, instead I feel like a large, cold hand is gripping my stomach, squeezing tighter and tighter.
“I’m sorry, mate,” he says. “But I have to finish it. I can’t go on like this anymore. You’re too old now. It’s time to stop. I want to let you go, but I can’t. I just can’t, I’m sorry. I wanted to get a gun, you know, to make it quicker, but I don’t know how to shoot one. I tried to learn about pills and poisons but they can go so wrong and I didn’t want to do that to you, mate. So I’m going to do it like this. One quick blow. I can do this. I can end it this way. I know you want to die. You tried that time with the pencil. You could’ve hurt me but you did it to yourself instead. This way we both get what we want. Don’t we?”
I lift my hands to my face and realise that I’m crying. My throat is raw.
“You don’t really want me to die,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. But this is the way it has to end.”
“I still miss the times before. I miss the camping holiday.”
He lets out a sob. “I know you do, but I don’t. This has been everything… You’ve made it so I could live.”
“You took my life,” I reply. “I don’t love you.”
Snot trickles out of his nose. “Don’t say that, mate.” His head lowers and he pushes his blond hair away from his eyes. He wipes his nose with the back of his hand. He’s in his smart clothes today. A soft maroon jumper and trousers with the crease down the middle. He looks like someone from the telly. Someone who belongs inside the movies on his tiny phone screen. A person with their life all sorted. Doctors. Lawyers. Businessmen. He’s one of those. Outside here, he probably looks like everyone else. He’s normal.