The Downward Spiral

The Downward Spiral

An Original Story By Chris Richards

Day One

Opening her eyes with a start, Clare winced at the sudden brightness,
wanting to pull the sleeping bag over her head once again.
All around her the sound of Leicester Square coming to life passed her
by as she dozed again for a couple of minutes, eventually forcing
herself awake and into a sitting position. She tried to avoid making
eye-contact with any of the people who passed by and looked in her
direction, tried not to notice the comments and looks of disgust that
were aimed at her.
She looked at her watch, then surveyed her new surroundings, the
restaurants, the small park with fountain, the huge black monolith of
the Odeon cinema towering high above her and for the first time in ages
she smiled.
She'd made it. Escaped. Now she could begin the next chapter of her
life, anonymous in a new city, a place where if she wanted to remain
hidden she could without judgement from those around her, those who
claimed to love her, who had nothing but her best interests at
heart.
She'd had to find a lot of courage to get on the coach, to leave her
old life behind, but she knew that it was best for everyone that she
make a fresh start and as she looked at London for the first time in
daylight she knew she'd made the right decision.
Before leaving she'd drained her bank account, emptied her
Grandmother's teapot in the living room that held all of her holiday
money and emergency cash, just to be sure that until she was settled
she'd be able to travel freely without fear of being traced by someone
tracking her transactions electronically. But how long a couple of
hundred pounds would last was a question she didn't really want to
think about.
Not yet.
Not now.
At that moment she heard a chinking sound beside her and saw a ?1 coin
roll down by her feet. Looking up she saw a young man walking away from
her, his neatly pressed suit a contrast to her creased and dirtied
clothes. She stared down at her hands and saw that they were black with
filth, wondering what kind of state she must look, how her hair must be
sticking up in every direction and she suddenly realised that more than
anything she needed to use the toilet.
Seeing a burger restaurant on the corner she slipped herself out of
the sleeping bag and checked her pockets, pleased to see that she still
had all of her money, that it hadn't been stolen whilst she
slept.
After cleaning herself up she bought some breakfast, gulping down the
hot coffee and egg and bacon muffin like she'd been starved for a week
and went back outside, only to find that her sleeping bag was missing,
that it no longer lay on the floor beneath the railings, that the small
holdall with her clothes in had also gone and panic suddenly set in,
her eyes darting left and right, hoping to see somebody dragging them
away. But she saw nothing and she felt a tightening in her chest, a
lump in her throat and the tears came, starting slowly, quietly before
breaking out into an uncontrollable sob.......

Sitting on one of the benches in the park she thought about calling
home, but knew that she'd have nothing to say and so she just watched
the world go by, wondering what she could do next, where she could
go.
It was as she sat there that the man first approached her, sitting
beside her on the bench, nodding at her politely and smiling.
"Hello." He said
"Hi." Clare said, looking at him cautiously.
"I hope you don't mind, but I've been watching you for a while now,
ever since you woke up this morning in fact."
Clare sighed, knowing where his polite chat was leading, not willing
to tolerate any of it.
"I've got a pretty good idea what you're looking for." She said. "But
I'm not interested, I'm not that kind of girl."
The man looked a little offended or at least pretended to be.
"No. You've got me wrong."
"Have I ?" Clare said, not believeing a word of it.
"I'd like to help you, that's all. I'm not interested in you that
way."
"Oh ?"
"Not at all." He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a
small white card. "I'm a doctor, I'm quite respectable, I
promise."
Taking the card Clare looked at him properly, admiring his not
unattractive face, his neatly cut hair and dark suit, imagining that he
was perhaps in his mid to late forties, catching sight that he wore a
wedding ring on his left hand.
"So, you make a habit of picking up girls off the street do you ?" She
asked, handing him back the card.
"I hate to see people suffering, I can't bear it."
"That must make life difficult for you, being a doctor and all."
"I'm a surgeon, most of the people I see are in no condition to tell
me how they feel....."
"Ah !" Clare smiled, wondering what his attraction in her was.. "That
must be a blessing, but it doesn't explain what you're doing here,
sitting beside me, trying to chat me up."
"I'm not trying to chat you up !" He said, suddenly seeming to get a
little agitated. "My daughter ran away when she was fifteen, they found
her body three weeks later........" He looked away and coughed. "I
promised myself I'd always help other people, try to prevent something
like that happening to somebody else."
Clare suddenly stood.
"You're so full of shit." She laughed. "If you think I'm gonna fall
for that sob story, you've gotta be crazy. I've watched the news, I've
read the papers. Do you really think I'm gonna walk off into the sunset
with you ? Do you really think I'm that naive ?" She laughed again and
shook her head, walking away from him without turning her back, slowly
edging out of the park into the hustle and bustle of the square,
dissapearing from his view.

Day Two

Opening her eyes with a start, Clare winced at the sudden brightness,
feeling the wet cardboard clinging to her body like some kind of
artificial skin, pushing it off her as she tried to stand, wincing as
she realised other people had huddled up around her and not all of them
smelled too good. She recognized one of them, another girl she'd
befriended the night before and searching her memories she tried to
remember her name, eventually realising that they'd been too drunk to
talk about anything much and had probably never bothered with
introductions.
She found herself just off Chinatown and looking to her left she could
see the park in Leicester Square once again and slowly walked down
towards it, hoping to use the facilities in the burger bar as she had
the day before.
As she walked through the doors a member of staff approached her and
very apologetically said that she wasn't allowed to come in there.
Clare tried to explain that she was hungry, that she was going to buy
food, coffee, the works, but as she reached into her sodden jeans she
was horrified to find all of her money was gone and after a short
tussle she was escorted from the premises and warned not to
return.

Sitting on one of the benches in the park she thought about what she'd
done, wondering if she was cursed, if she'd been a bad person in a
previous life and burying her head in her hands she'd sobbed until her
eyes hurt.
As she looked up she saw the man from the day before, the doctor,
sitting across from her, watching her intently, a genuine look of
concern on his face and this time she knew she was powerless to
resist.

They took a cab to a nice apartment in Holborn, a short ride. He led
her upto the third floor, letting her into what to her looked like a
palace, at least compared to what she was used to. He explained that
there were two bedrooms, a living room and down a passageway the
kitchen / dining room and bathroom.
The first thing she noticed was that it was quite warm, as though he'd
had the heating on for sometime without opening a window. But she knew
she'd rather be warm than cold, thinking anything had to be better than
spending a third night on the street.
"This can be your room." He said, opening a door to her left. "I bet
you'd like to have a bath. I'll get you a robe and you can slip out of
those nasty clothes."
"I....." Clare mumbled and saw the anxious look on the man's face. "I
don't know your name." She said.
"Thomas, but you can call me Tom."
"I'm Clare."
Tom pointed down the hallway. "I'll just go and run the water for
you..."
"Thanks." She said and the two of them exchanged a brief smile.

Ten minutes later and she was submerged in the most glorious
bath.
So far so good, she thought to herself, catching her breath as she
heard a knock at the bathroom door.
"I've just got to pop out for half an hour. " She heard Tom say. "Make
yourself at home, there's food and drink in the kitchen, please have
what you like."
And then he was gone.

Once she had got out and dried herself she went down to the kitchen,
exploring the cupboards and fridge, amazed at how much food was packed
in everywhere. Finding the kettle she made herself a coffee, wondering
not for the first time she was getting herself into.
What was the worst thing he could do ? Try it on with her ? Hell,
she'd almost been raped once before and that had been by a rugby player
twice the size of Tom. If she could handle that she felt she could
handle anything. A swift kick in the groin. try and gouged out his
eyes...no problem. But there was something about Tom that made her
think he wasn't like that, that he really wanted to help her. She
didn't know what it was and she knew she'd probably curse herself for
trusting him, but even in their brief time together she'd something in
him that she'd not seen for a long time and that was compassion.
She thought back to the reflection she'd seen staring back at her
whilst she'd been combing her hair after the bath. She'd been surprised
to see that she was looking so good, that after sleeping rough for two
nights she'd managed to scrub up so well, but then she'd always been
blessed with her Mother's natural beauty.
Hearing a key in the lock, she poured the rest of her coffee down the
sink and laid her cup down in the bowl.
Tom called out her name and she walked down the passageway to where he
awaited her in the living room, a number of bags spread out on the sofa
and chairs.
"I hope you don't mind, but I looked at the labels on your clothes and
went out and got you a few things." He looked a little embarrassed.
"I'm sure you don't want to be stuck in those dirty old things for any
longer than necessary...."
Clare was shocked and it obviously showed on her face.
"You're not mad are you ?" Tom asked anxiously.
"No....not at all." Clare didn't know what to say, didn't know if she
should feel grateful or whether she really should be suspiscious of her
new found 'friend'. "Thanks." She smiled.
Tom visibly relaxed.
"Great ! Why don't I leave you alone to get ready and I'll go and make
you something to eat. I bet you're famished."
"You're not eating ?" Clare asked as she tucked into what could only
be described as a magnificent spread.
"I'm fine, I grabbed something when I went out." He watched her as she
hungrily shoveled in the food. "Would you like some wine ?" He asked,
moving towards the fridge.
"I'd rather have a soft drink if you've got one." She replied, shoving
another chicken leg between her lips. "A Coke or something ?"
"No problem." Tom said, reaching inside before grabbing a glass from a
cupboard and returning to the table. "Is that good ?" He inquired,
popping the can open and starting to pour it.
Clare nodded, knowing that ultimately her eyes were bigger than her
belly and that sooner or later she would have to slow down.
"It's great !" She licked at her fingers. "Though I could do with a
napkin or something.."

As the evening drew on they made small talk in the living room, the
television in the background filling in for any extended silences. She
learned from him that he was no longer married, that his wife had
sought consolation in the arms of another and that since his daughter's
death he'd thrown himself ever more into his work. She'd been trying to
avoid the subject of why it was he'd found her sleeping on the street,
but eventually she gave in and told him the truth, or at least as much
of the truth as she was willing to admit to anybody.
"I had to leave home. I had no choice. If I'd have stayed there a
moment longer I'd have probably gone insane or killed myself
or...or...I don't know....." She tried not to look at him as she spoke,
knowing that he was studying her features, watching her body language.
"Nobody understood. Have you ever had that ? When you try and explain
to people something really important, but they just don't want to hear
it. They have there own ideas and no matter what you say they are alwys
right ?" She shook her head. " Nobody would listen. Not my family, not
my friends. Nobody."
"And so you just jumped on a train...."
"A coach."
"....A coach and made your way down here ?"
"That's right."
Tom leant forward in his chair.
"Why London ?"
"Well, it's a big place. If you want to lose yourself somewhere, why
not here ?"
Nodding Tom stood and went over to turn the tv off.
"Look, I'm due some time off work, why don't I help you stay lost? I
can take you around the city, show you all the sights ?"
"Be my personal tourist guide ?"
The two of them laughed together.
"That would be nice." Clare smiled at him. "Thanks."

Day Three

Opening her eyes with a start, Clare winced at the sudden
brightness.
She stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling and for a moment wondered
where she was. Then she sniffed the air, the aroma of bacon and eggs
surrounding her. Sitting up, she looked around the room, catching sight
of her clothes on the chair, exactly where she'd left them.
It had taken her a while to fall asleep the night before, unsure if
Tom would make any kind of advance on her, half expecting to hear him
knocking at her door, making his move. But he'd been the perfect
gentleman, not even trying to give her a goodnight kiss and she'd been
perhaps a little disappointed. He was a good looking man after all and
it had been a while since she'd been with anybody, not since Darren,
her last boyfriend and that had been over three months ago.
For his age, Tom was in really good shape, muscular and well toned at
least as far as she could tell from the kind of clothes he was wearing.
She'd yet to see him in anything other than jeans and a shirt and she
liked the fact that he felt comfortable wearing such things. He'd told
her he was forty two and she'd confessed that she was only nineteen.
He'd made no comment at the time, but she wondered if he, like her, was
wondering about sins of the flesh......?

"Coffee or tea ?" Tom asked as she stepped into the dining
room/kitchen. "The kettle has just boiled."
"Coffee, thanks. No sugar."
"Milk ?"
Clare nodded and ran a hand through her hair.
"Why not ?"
Tom moved across to the cooker and cracked open a fresh egg, reaching
for a clean plate from the rack on the shelf above the sink.
"I've cooked you some breakfast: Egg's, bacon, tomato, sausages,
mushrooms, toast...."
"You're spoiling me !" Clare laughed, taking a seat, grabbing the hot
cup of coffee that was handed to her. "I'm gonna be as fat as a pig
!"
Smiling Tom scooped out the egg and placed it onto the plate he'd been
keeping warm under the grill, grabbing a tea towel to allow him to
carry it over to where Clare sat eagerly waiting.
"Be careful now, the plate's hot."
"Thanks."
"Would you like any sauce or anything ?"
"No, this will be fine thanks."
Getting his cup of coffee, Tom moved to sit across from her, watching
her as she silently ate.
"Did you sleep alright ?" He asked. "I know it can be a bit annoying
with those buses going past every five minutes."
"I didn't really notice. It was just nice to be in a comfortable bed,
you've no idea what it's like sleeping on the cold street. I feel so
sorry for those poor people who spend their entire lives out there,
come rain or shine."
"Well, you don't have to worry about that now, do you ?" Tom sipped at
his drink. "You're welcome to stay here as long as you like. When
you're ready to move on just let me know, alright ?" He gave her a
comforting smile. "Want some more toast ?"

They spent the whole day on the move, starting by walking down the
length of Oxford St, before cutting down through Berwick Street and
into the heart of Soho, emerging unscathed onto Shaftesbury Avenue.
Clare had told him that she had a love of art and so he'd taken her to
the National Gallery in Trafalgar Square and then they'd had lunch
whilst feeding the pigeons, although Tom seemed to give most of his to
the birds.
From there it was St James' Park and Buckingham Palace at the top end
of The Mall, but as the evening drew in they made their down to the
Thames and she marvelled at the beautiful skyline of St Paul's at one
end and the Millenium Wheel at the other.
"This is wonderful !" Clare told him, as they walked across Tower
Bridge. "I never imagined London would be so beautiful." She paused and
turned to him. "I've had a really great day. Thank you."
"So have I." Tom agreed. " Tomorrow, what do you say we go to the V
and A, then we can have lunch in Kensington ? Maybe go see a film in
the evening ?"
"That would be really nice."

Day Five

Opening her eyes with a start, Clare winced at the sudden
brightness.
They'd been late to bed the night before and her head was heavy with
the copious amount of alcohol she'd filled her body with.
Tom had taken her for Mexican in Leicester Sqaure and she'd feasted
herself on burrittos and enchiladas, washing it all down with shots of
tequila too numerous to mention. It had been strange going back to the
Square and she'd tried her best to avoid looking at the spot where
she'd spent her first night in London. They'd gone to an unusual cinema
called the Prince Charles where they were showing a double bill of
Manhunter and The Silence Of The Lambs and they'd actually huddled
together at the scary moments, but even then he did nothing to show her
that he was interested in being anything more than friends and Clare,
being quite shy, was too afraid to start things herself. Even after the
films, when they'd gone on to a late bar, nothing had happened.
Not even a goodnight kiss.

As usual he was busy at work in the kitchen and he greeted her with
one of his wonderfully charming smiles.
"You look how I feel." He confided, putting a huge plate of fried food
down in front of her. "It's not something I do normally, getting drunk
like that."
"Me neither." Clare confessed. "But it's nice to let your hair down
occasionally."
"It sure is." He watched her as she ate. "I hope those films didn't
give you nightmares."
"Not at all. I love horror films. I'd seen 'Silence' before, but not
that other one. It wasn't really as good."
"I know what you mean, I much prefer Hopkins in the role of
Lecter."
"I guess because you're more familiar with seeing him it's difficult
to imagine that other bloke, what was his name..?"
"Brian Cox."
"Yeah, him. Because you automatically imagine Hopkins when you think
of Lecter, you can't really accept Cox in the same role."
" A bit like when Peter Davison took over from Tom Baker in Doctor
Who."
"I never watched that. I'm too young, remember ?"
"Of course, sorry."
Whilst chewing on her bacon, Clare grinned at him.
"Are you a bit of a sci-fi and horror buff then ?" She inquired.
"Not really. I grew up with Kirk and Spock on Star Trek and I used to
get dragged along to see things like The Exorcist when they were
released first time round."
"I just love the movies." Clare admitted. "Although where I come from
they've only just got around to building a multiplex."
"That's one of the things I love about London. So many cinemas to
choose from, so much variety."
Clare finished the last of her breakfast and gathered up her plate and
empty cup, stepping into the kitchen.
"Leave the dishes, I'll take care of them." Tom said.
"It's alright." Clare insisted. "I'd like to help."
It was as she said this that the cup slipped from her plate, crashing
to the floor with a bang.
"Shit !" She mumbled, reaching down to pick up the shattered pieces.
"I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it." Tom assured her. "No harm done."
But then a sharp piece of broken pot tore through Clare's palm and she
recoiled in pain, watching as fresh blood welled-up and splashed all
around.
"Let me have a look at that." Tom said as she yelped out in pain, but
rather than move towards him, Clare threw herself away.
"Stay away !" She said, crawling backwards along the floor. "Please,
stay away."
"It's ok, I'm a doctor remember ?"
"I don't care !" Clare growled at him. "Stay away !"
Taking the hint Tom did as he was told, watching helplessly as she
made her way into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

After about half an hour he knocked at the door, wondering what the
hell was going on.
"I've got you a bandage." He told her. "Clare ? Are you alright in
there ?"
A second or so passed before he heard the lock being unfastened and
then Clare's uncut hand appeared from a tiny crack, as she partially
opened the door.
"Thanks." He heard her whisper, before slowly she closed and locked
the door again.

"I'm sorry about earlier." Clare said as they walked towards the tube
station. "I get like that sometimes."
"It's not a problem. I was worried about you, that's all."
"Thanks."
"Do you want to talk about it ?"
Clare shrugged and pulled her jacket a little tighter.
"If you don't mind, I'd rather not. It upsets me too much."
"Sure thing." Tom nodded, smiling at her.
"It's one of the reasons I ran away....."
"You don't have to explain yourself, it's alright." He placed an arm
around her, pulling her close.
Is he falling for me ? Clare thought.
Are things about to change ?
Am I finally going to find happinness ?

They sat in silence on the train as it took them to Marble Arch,
emerging into bright sunshine and for the last time they enjoyed a
really nice day together, walking through Hyde Park, sharing a boat on
the Serpentine, feasting on a huge lunch in one of the many pizza and
pasta buffet restaurants that seemed to litter the city..
It was a happiness that couldn't last forever.........

Day Seven

Opening her eyes with a start, Clare winced at the sudden brightness,
the lights shining right into her eyes, temporarily blinding her.
She felt numb, cold and she realised that she couldn't move her arms
and legs, that other than her head she couldn't move at all and as she
looked down at her body she opened her mouth and could do nothing but
scream.

Tom sat at the table with his back to her, happily stuffing his face
with his breakfast.

"Oh my God ! Oh my God !" Clare howled. "What have you done ? What
have done to me ??!!" Losing all control she threw up, vomit erupting
from between her lips in a colourful fountain.
She closed her eyes, tried to imagine that it was all a dream, but as
she opened them again and saw Tom staring at her wth one of her legs
clasped in his hands, torn, cooked flesh hanging from between his lips,
she knew that it was no dream.
"Good morning Clare." Tom smiled, putting down her leg, licking at his
fingers as he walked towards her. "And how are you today ?"
All Clare could do was sob, tears streaming down her face.
"You're probably wondering how it is that you got this way. How it is
that you can't feel any pain." He leant close to her. "Well, as I'm
sure you're aware I'm not the nice man you thought I was." He pointed
down to where he'd cut off both of her arms at the elbow and both of
her legs just above the knee. "These are just for starters. I'm gonna
save the best until last." Stroking her face he moved away. "They say
that meat tastes much better when the animal is terrified, it does
something too it, the adrenaline coursing through the veins and nerves,
gives it something a little special." He sat back at the table and
picked up one of her hands, snapping off her fingers one at a time,
biting into the freshly cooked meat. "Everybody has to have a hobby,
don't you agree ?" He looked at her. "I can't do this very often. I
have to wait until I'm sure all of my neighbours are away otherwise the
noise of me cutting through flesh and bone would arouse suspicions.
After all, there's only so much D.I.Y a person can do in a small flat
like this !"
For a minute or two he fell silent, looking at Clare, who had stopped
her screaming and was now infact smiling a sickening smile.
"You've killed yourself you know ?" She said without looking at
him.
"A threat ?" Tom asked.
"You know, it's almost funny ? You've actually done me a
favour."
Tom stood again.
"What are you talking about ? He asked curiously.
"You've killed me and I'm taking you with me you sick bastard. I
suppose you could say you're getting your just desserts....."
"I.....I don't understand."
"You want to know why I ran away from home ? Why I came down here to
escape ?"
Slowly she lifted her head and looked Tom straight in the eyes.
"I've got full blown AIDS and now, through coming into contact with my
blood, by eating my flesh, you too have it and there's not a thing in
the world you can do about it........"

The End

copyright: Chris Richards 2001

mail: exciterxl@yahoo.co.uk