Spare Key

It was a mistake. I admit it.

The boys used the respite to up the ante once more.

A DVD of the assault began making the rounds of Epsom high school. Sold for five dollars a piece, it showed in graphic detail the girl’s trauma and almost overnight became required watching for the cool kids. I must admit I was unprepared for the sheer number of people who looked on it as a joke. Something to giggle at. The sick fucks.

After the latest provocation, I couldn’t wait any longer so I decided to act. Nothing over the top – as I’m sometimes prone to do – but I acted nonetheless. At least I can say that…

* * * * *

Jacob laid in bed, his thoughts whirling, conflicting desires waging war inside. The DVD’s were getting worse. Getting more violent and he was torn between his conscience that was telling him to tell someone: his father, a teacher, the police, anyone; and his loyalty to his brother. But underneath that to and fro, a far more disturbing desire lurked: and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it just wouldn’t go away. It was the voice telling him not to dob so he could see more naked girls and it made him feel so fucking disgusted with himself.

He knew he was a geeky looking kid. A melange of carrot top hair, a rounded face and freckles interspersed with just budding pimples. He’d never even kissed a girl before and didn’t like the chances of doing it in the near future. He knew the girls at school thought he was a joke. The fat red-head that only incited mirth. Where else would he ever see a pussy except on the video?

Besides what good would it do to tell? Nothing had happened when the DVD had been discovered circulating the school and that had been months ago. Despite the shoddy camera work a couple of the boys involved had been identified. Jacob still saw them around. As far as he was aware, the police hadn’t even charged them.

So what was the point of saying anything? The cops had already been out to interview Michael on suspicion of being involved in the DVD’s distribution but he had denied it and his father had told them in no uncertain terms to go fuck themselves. He’d been fairly wasted at the time and, although Jacob was fairly certain that the cops didn’t believe his brother’s story, they hadn’t returned. Not even when the other girl had disappeared.

Why would it be any different this time?

Jacob didn’t know what to do and every time he tried to get it straight in his head, his mind kept drifting back to the girl from the DVD that afternoon. He didn’t know her name but he had seen her around school. She was a year older than him and Jacob thought she was the prettiest one so far. Not beautiful but pretty nonetheless.

The way, at the start of the film, she’d danced around between the boys, her underwear around her ankles, flashing herself at them. Before it had started to get heavy, she’d looked like she’d almost been enjoying herself. Jacob’s penis stirred to life as he remembered the way she’d laid back, her legs raised to the sky, the pink lips parting slightly as her thighs spread. He didn’t even notice he was masturbating until his sperm splashed hotly on his stomach.

But once he’d cum though it was a different story. The images that had followed the good bit came rushing in.

They had ringed her and began to poke, prod and tickle her. It hadn’t been too bad at the start but then one of the boys had reached down and pinched at her flaps until she squealed. It had been the signal for it to degenerate. She laughed along with the others – who thought it was hilarious – but you could see that something had changed in her eyes. That fear had begun to set in. She’d been reluctant to show her pussy again but the boys had bullied her into it. Then three of them had held her down while a fourth had urinated in her hair. Jacob felt physically ill as that image flooded his mind. The piss pouring down her face as she struggled to free herself, desperate to scream but knowing she’d end up with a mouthful if she did. And then the cutting had started…

Sleep didn’t come easily for Jacob that night.

And the next morning things weren’t made any easier.

* * * * *

I think I was in denial for a long time after my original plan didn’t work. It’s the only excuse I can come up with. Sounds like crap I know but it’s the only reason I can justify why I allowed it to continue for so long. I just couldn’t believe they got away with it. Even after I made sure the video fell into appropriate hands. I mean, some of their faces were on it for fuck’s sake. It just didn’t seem possible.

But no, the parents of the girl seemed more ashamed of her than anything. They didn’t want a fuss made and didn’t press charges. They left town soon after and The Filmmakers… well it didn’t faze them at all. They just got more careful. They started wearing masks for one thing. They also stopped selling the DVDs at school. Now it was just for them. For their own personal amusement and edification.

The next girl was nine and those boys pretty much ruined her for life. No one should have to see what I saw that day. I mean one of them even tried to force his cock into her. It was just fortunate it wouldn’t fit but unfortunately he made up for that by wanking himself until he came right in her sweet little face. She was almost paralytic with shock at that point and didn’t even seem to notice it.

They dumped her body further from home too. Another sign of their caution. I can’t imagine what the girl’s thoughts were when she woke up in the Claypits – almost at the exact location where they stoned that first dog. Her feelings when she tried to stand and the pain ripped through her body. Surely they couldn’t get away with this, I told myself. It’s just not possible.

With hindsight, I know I should have interfered again but it wasn’t in my nature. I have my rules to abide by. And the main one is: first and foremost, you go through the proper channels. It’s just unfortunate the proper channels failed me. I should have seen it coming – more and more these days they seem to – but as I said before, I want to see the best in people. It’s my real downfall. For awhile I thought I’d made the right decision. The police rounded up the boys and brought them in for questioning.

Once more I was disappointed.

Lack of evidence was the official line. The poor girl was in no condition to testify and the police efforts to garner DNA samples were stymied by the boys’ parents who couldn’t believe their little angels had anything to do with it.

Unbelievable I know. I suppose I’ll be kind and write it off as the blind love of a parent. Even if in some instances I know for a fact that wasn’t the case. Gotta keep up those appearances – if you know what I mean.

With the official channels exhausted, I set off on another tack. Instead I went to visit the victim’s father. Unlike the previous victim, this one’s parents were not ashamed. They were not embarrassed by what had happened to their little girl. They didn’t seek to hide it

She was their only child. Their pride and joy, the apple of their eye etcetera, etcetera. And I know some would say I was wrong to do it but I just couldn’t help it. I gave him a little nudge in the right direction. Sadly, as it turned out, it might have been too much of a nudge. The morning following my visit, as one of The Filmmakers – admittedly a periphery player; he’d watched but not participated; that not really being an excuse – was striding toward the bus stop, a dusty, red Fairlane careened into him at seventy kilometers an hour. The boy, Jenkins, died instantly. Unfortunately the father of the victim, who’d been behind the wheel, lost control moments after hitting him and plowed into a nearby pole. He’s also gone now, although he lasted a little longer than Jenkins. It was internal bleeding that got him.

He never woke from his coma.

No doubt you’ve already guessed how horrified I was by the results of my interference. Keep repeating the same old justifications, don’t I? Like they’re some sort of acceptable excuse. All I can ask is that before you judge me, you walk a day in my shoes; see how you would’ve played it.

Sure, looking back now I’m not entirely certain what I thought the man could have achieved. But I know I didn’t mean for him to kill the boy. It’s just the way it worked out. It’s often hard to predict what my influence will do to a person and, well, I guess you can only live and learn. At least for awhile, as unfortunate as it all was, it seemed to stop The Filmmakers in their tracks.

I hoped it would last but I knew it was wishful thinking. Sure enough, it didn’t take them long to get back at