Ten

07/22/11

Some people, they was sayin ‘Why didn’t they stop him? Why didn’t somebody stop him?’

When they say ‘him’, they mean ‘me’.

Obviously.

Thing is, that ain’t askin the right question. And it’s all about askin the right question. In cases like this. People like me. That’s why they sent me to that psychiatrist bloke in the hospital, the one they found chopped up in his chair. He never asked the right question, see.

You just can’t rely on no-one nowadays.

When I say ‘you’, I mean ‘I’. He used to pick me up on that all the time. That psychiatrist bloke.

Tell me about your childhood, Steven, he’d say.

I’d say, it was all right, like most people’s, nothing particular.

He’d take off his glasses – he always did that when he thought I was talkin out me arse – lean back in his chair like he was thinkin of what to say next, then move forward quick, elbow on the desk and stare at me with his eyes all fucked. Don’t think he realised they was that fucked.

Then he’d say, you don’t really mean that, do you, Steven, about your childhood?

But I’m still lookin at his eyes. One’s dropped to the left, the other’s moved to the right, way out to the side. Like a cartoon. Then he’d put his glasses back on, and they’d get right back straight again.

What was that? I’d say. What you said?

Your childhood, he’d say, how far back can you remember?

Black. Dark. Hummin in me chest. Lights flashin in me brain. I wanna shut me eyes. But not now. Not yet.

Ten, I say.

And he gets this smile on his face, this fuckin knowin smile what makes me wanna kill him.

And he starts askin me these questions, all these fuckin questions, like he’s tryin to get inside the dark with me and he keeps sayin ‘I’ Steven every time I say ‘you’, and every time he says ‘I’ Steven every time I say ‘you’ I can feel meself sinkin down and down, and turnin him to shadows.

And you know the last thing he asked me? The very last thing he ever said?

Still makes me laugh, just thinkin about it.

~ fin ~

Ian lives in London, England with his wife and three children.  He has had almost forty stories published online and in print, and his debut novel 'ABIDE WITH ME' will be published by Caffeine Nights Publishing (www.caffeine-nights.com) later this year.  Ian blogs at http://ianayris.blogspot.com and you can also follow his miscreant ramblings on Facebook and Twitter.

Only Ian Ayris writes like that. Love the bit about his eyes!
Chris Rhatigan
August 07, 2011
[...] That’s why they sent me to that psychiatrist bloke in the hospital, the one they found chopped up ... [...]
GENRE « FictionDaily
August 02, 2011
Very well done. Nice bit of asshat crazy there, tough thing to do as a writer. Great story, thanks for the read.
Trey R. Barker
July 25, 2011
aw, man, that's messed up! I want to know the last question. Ian, I no one does crazy like you. You're ace!
Jodi
July 25, 2011
Just want to thank everyone for taking the time to read and comment on this little story. And thank you to all they guys and girls at Shotgun Honey for giving me this opportunity. Warmest regards, Ian
Ian Ayris
July 24, 2011
That packed a punch, and leaving us hanging like that? Brilliant.
Julia Madeleine
July 24, 2011
You casually converse with the psychotic mind like no other. Splendid chat with the patterns of a demented intellect.
Matthew C Funk
July 23, 2011
i need to say this about three more times
David James Keaton
July 23, 2011
Brilliant insight into insanity Ian. Hilarious description of the shrink's fucked up eyes, as always you suggest so much with so few words.
Richard Godwin
July 22, 2011
Great stuff.
Paul D Brazill
July 22, 2011
I want to know what that last question was! by "I" I mean "they." i love the way you left it hanging. great story
David James Keaton
July 22, 2011
dammit I want to know what that last question was! by "I" I mean "they." i love the way you left it hanging.
David James Keaton
July 22, 2011
Some stories just make me jealous. So good.
Mike Miner
July 22, 2011
Another cracker, Ian. Terrific.
Alan Griffiths
July 22, 2011
Beauty part, is it doesn't matter what he was going to say. Damn that's hard to do, mate; let the importance of "the question" fade. Leave only the actinic light and chainsaw scream of sudden, mad violence. Leave it to us to understand the statement and let the question go. Brilliant.
AJ Hayes
July 22, 2011
Like that you didn't give the ending away. Good one!
July 22, 2011
Top notch mate. The darkness keeps coming, gotta love it.
Groovydaz39
July 22, 2011
Top notch mate. The darkness keeps coming, gotta love it.
Groovydaz39
July 22, 2011
Brilliant - classic Ayris. Loved it!
Julie Lewthwaite
July 22, 2011
That's a corker. Great story!
Luca Veste
July 22, 2011

Comments are closed for this post.