This is in honour of the people who are saving the Chilli miners who have been stuck underground for 69 days, because seriously, you guys kick ass! Okay, serious now, the rescuers are phenomenal, and someone needs to thank you. Today, that someone is me, a Year Nine (shut up. I'm taking three Science GCSE papers this year, worth in total 50% of my grade... and what have you got?) yes, maybe just a thirteen year-old who sits at her computer eating Kit kats, but my point is: if I can see that, who can't, right?
So this is for you, and even though there is no way you'll read this blog any time soon, at least you know there are still 33 people that will always be grateful, and that there are plenty of others out there who care.
Sorry to everyone else if you were expecting something funny, but i needed to be serious for this post, and i promise you, it's over.
I'll be back to my funny, still loveable gleeful person by the next part :)
Why do people try to hurt me?
The single sentence of truth, of unanswerable question, a balance of the point of subjectivity crossed Jodi’s mind as Skulduggery Pleasant pushed her into a bound cell. He released the shackles off her, and she would not look at him – she could not look at him, for her eyes burned in the swelling darkness she had tangled herself in. “It’s not so bad,” Skulduggery muttered. “Cosy home, no one to hurt you. It could be worse.”
Jodi Harte wrapped her arms around her chest, and rested her cheek against the cold stonewall. She could feel the sparkling texture on her skin, as the cooling sensation made her shiver. Jodi faced away from Skulduggery, and if she had opened her eyes, she would’ve been staring at another pale wall.
She couldn’t see. She could feel the pain ready to pull out her pupils, she could still feel the points of each needle stick to her arms: as if she couldn’t shake off the sensation that people might have pushed the point of the sharp metal into her arms again. Just to be sure that she couldn’t feel it when they kicked her down.
Jodi had put plasters around her heart over and over again throughout her life, until the band aid was so sturdy she could barely feel a leap of affection, or a strike of horror that pierced her when she had been betrayed. She just couldn’t fell. She would never try to care.
It had been a good thing, in Jodi’s perspective, that Skulduggery hadn’t asked her if she was okay. If he had, she would have had to face him; she would have had to stare at him while blood ran across her face, while the silent screaming mixed with the tears that built with the pain. She wouldn’t be seen as weak. She wouldn’t let anyone see who she was underneath the armour.
The cell door slammed shut, and Jodi heard the murmuring outside.
“Oh look,” Skulduggery said, and at first Jodi wonder if he had been trying to direct it to her. “A washed up man in a snazzy suit, American accent and authority to inspect a criminal I captured about twenty minutes ago. No, that’s not suspicious at all.”
“Do not insult me with your lies.” The man Skulduggery had described spoke.
“You right, that suit is hardly snazzy at all. My apologizes.” Skulduggery’s footsteps walked into the distance. “I’m getting some of the council to confirm your position.” Then he was gone.
The man outside smiled, looking at the cell door. He touched the lock, as three symbols glowered, each flashing different colours, until the door unlatched itself from its bolts. The man stepped in swiftly, grabbing Jodi’s jumper by its sleeve, and threw her out of the cell, across the hall.
“Hello Sarah.” The man laughed, as he kicked her in the gut. “Twenty. Eight. Thousand dollars, Sarah. Although, I hear that’s not you name, so what is it? No one would tell me.” He punched her in the chest, across the face, as blood rolled from her eyes as the single tears began to slide down her cheeks. “You should’ve known who you were conning, you ignorant little girl.” He grabbed her by the hair, and tugged at it, so her body smashed against the opposite wall. Jodi’s body folded in half, collapsing to the ground. She would not scream, she just wouldn’t.
The man pulled her back upwards, starring at Jodi’s face, torn, bleeding, broken. Her eyes wouldn’t look at him, and he believed that it was a sign of defeat. He smiled at the thought, punching her again, as she crumbled to the floor, hands cut, and she knew that bruises would strike her whole body by the morning. “Don’t you remember me?” He demanded, jabbing her in the stomach.
“John,” She whispered, and he stepped back shocked.
“Wait, you remember?” He said, scared now.
Jodi couldn’t feel her lips while she spoke. “We were standing outside the London Eye, meeting there for a business meeting, we had talked over the phone between our two companies, well, okay I hacked into the system and talked with you over your business, but you had no idea. You felt sick during the pasta, because I had drugged your drink with... I don’t remember, toxic or something. While you rushed off, I rummaged through your bag and found you credit card details, everything. I even swapped our briefcases round so that you left with ten thousand fake notes, and I left with whatever amount you had organised to boost ‘my’ business. I even got your signature on some documents that you had left in your coat pocket, and your checkbook. I still have it, I think. Somewhere. I made checks out to myself when I needed the money, and even managed to work at the back for a while, then I was fired for taking too many days off. I rearranged the details, so I looked like one of your workers: why would anyone be suspicious of me getting money off you, my boss?”
John took another step backwards, unsure of what to say. Jodi continued: “When you came back, you broke the deal off, so the real company didn’t lose much. I only picked you because you made yourself known on the radar. You gave me personal information, like when you insisted that you’d pay for the meal, I saw a picture of your son, and you told me so much, it was as if you were trying to rub it in that he was happy. With you.”
“What?” John said, his voice shaking.
“I mean, it was as if you were trying to rub it in because you were happy. But you told me things, so many things, all of you did. Things I didn’t have to know. Things you shouldn’t have told Sarah, or Kally, or Christina, things you should’ve told the girl across the hall in your apartment about, or the boy next door.” Jodi took a breath, feeling her hands clench into fists. “Thing I really didn’t need to remember: things I just can’t forget.”
John, almost by the door, pauses before making an escape. “You remember everyone?”
Jodi’s lips would’ve curved into a smile if she had wanted to. “They’re there behind me when I brush my teeth, they are the waiters and waitresses that serve me at my favourite café, they are always watching me, and they will never look away.”
“But do you remember them?”
Sighing, Jodi blinked slightly, gasping at the pain. She shut her eyes tightly, ignoring the pain while she spoke. “Everyday.” She whispered, as Skulduggery Pleasant came charging down the hall, moments after John slipped out the side door, into the air, into the freedom of the world. And he ran.
“Did he do this?” Skulduggery asked Jodi while he prepared his gun to go charging for the strange American Detective.
“No,” Jodi breathed, trying hard not to laugh. “Sarah did.” And then Jodi didn’t hear the Skeleton Detective’s words anymore.
No copyright intended, i do not own Skulduggery Pleasant