New Year and New Beginnings

I thought I should say something, I have been lurking still and have loved seeing the lovely work that you have all been doing, but have not had the time or inclination myself.

I only managed this year to stitch one Gorjuss girl, finish off a crochet blanket and knit myself a new scarf.

I wish I had done more. So with that in mind, I am laying my cards on the table and announcing right here and right now that in 2014 I will stitch and knit something to be proud of.

I know I am not alone in neglecting my blog and so I am calling out to all those who want to make a new start in 2014. Lets do this!

Who's with me?

Happy New Year!

Love Kate xx

Inside:Out

Inner_Demon_3_by_jdotjam.jpg

The sun was up and as such, so was I.

62 years 10 months 1 week and 3 days of training and I was about to graduate. I had thought about this day for a long time.

My trainer had been quiet and unpredictable as a child and I had adopted a similar nature.
I recall the many times we spent out in the woods, catching small creatures and toying with them, toying until it was no longer toying, teasing until it was no longer teasing, tormenting until it was no longer tormenting, torturing until it was death.

Once we peaked at death we would begin again, carefully selecting which creature would be next as we worked our way up the food chain. It was a slow process. The first guest we had was a frog; whose demise was brought about by a boot thwacked down on his head.

What followed were many more frogs; sliced, diced, boiled and burnt, until we found a method that compelled us to try it on something just a little bigger. Hours were spent hunting and preying from dusk till dawn.

My trainers name was Ernest, and everywhere that Ernest went, I was sure to follow.

I needed to observe him, to watch, to listen, and to learn all I could. I would need these skills one day. Only I had bigger plans, I would not be satisfied as easily as Ernest.  Ernest was a scientist, organised, thorough, precise and hypothetic but bound by guidelines and rules.  He demonstrated restraint when we had begun to consider more intelligent creatures, cats, dogs, and even pigs but I dreamed of bigger and better guests. I enjoyed the games, the tease, the torture and deep down, I knew he did too.

I was blessed by good fortune when Ernest was in his twenties. He met and fell in love with a woman, a woman called Clara, who was so petite as to cast the smallest shadow. Ernest no longer experimented, preferring to spend time with Clara, so much time was spent indoors that I was left wanting.

I thought this might have been the end for us, but then after several months, Clara betrayed Ernest’s trust and broke his heart. This was a turning point for him, he had played by the rules, followed all the guidelines and yet he had been toyed with, teased and left in turmoil. His unpredictable nature had caught Clara by surprise. He hadn’t really wanted to talk. He hadn’t really wanted to return her stuff. He hadn’t really wanted to stay friends. He wanted her heart anyway he could get it.

62 days 10 hours 1 minute and 3 seconds was how long it took before he held her heart in his hands.
He tied her up in her own house and toyed and teased her for several weeks; each day she would plead forgiveness, each day she would make promises, but it was too late for her, he could only hear the blood as it pulsated around his body and throbbed in his ears. A heavy beat of white noise that drowned out all reason, all compassion and all control.

He tormented and tortured her, making sure to inflict as much emotional pain first. Exploiting her weakness, threatening her family and then telling her lies about their demise, he wanted to make the body supple and receptive to the physical torture that would follow.

It reminded me of those early days with that first frog; the slicing especially.  He experimented with many methods, those which made her eyes widen, her body writhe, and her soul shake in horror were to become his favourite.

For the last thirty years or so Ernest had been perfecting this new passion of his. Even I had lost count of how many guests we had entertained.

Being a trainee hadn’t been so bad for me, and on the rare occasion that my existence would overlap with other trainees, I was confident that the length of my apprenticeship would make me a better graduate. I had heard of others who had graduated long ago and had already trained the next generation and on some level I wanted that to be me but Ernest was a perfectionist and would not make a mistake.Ernest was a fan of the long game, be it a month or a year or even more, he needed to know with absolute certainty that his meticulously planned pursuits would run smoothly.  It’s why he had been able to continue, why he had never been caught.

Like I said, I am about to graduate, how do I know? How do you think? I can’t wait any longer. I have finished lurking; I have seen enough, it’s my time to step out of the shadow that binds me and to take my place amongst the living.

Ernest must be able to sense my determination, he has started changing his routine, and I know he is trying to avoid me, but if I have any hope of graduating and getting out of here, then I can’t let that happen. Only yesterday he wrote in his journal,

 I know you are in there and I know you want to be free. I won’t let that happen. I control you. I am in control. You do not control me.

I may be his trainee but that doesn’t mean much. It means that I am here learning about life and how others live, and until his life is taken I shall remain here. I never expected that I would be an angel when I died, I fully expected to party hard in hell, but this is the in-between; the place you go when the other two run out of space. So yes, I am here due to overcrowding, and I have taken it upon myself to reduce the numbers. No-one rejects me. No-one.

You all have an inner demon, a trainee; some know we are here, some are completely unaware, some try to hide us, some embrace us, and a select few need us to make them who they are. Ernest has always been weak minded and needed guidance, and I was more than happy to provide that for him.

When he flinched at the sight of blood, I made him look again as it pooled around the guest.

When his hand shook as bones cracked under the impact of the hammer, I tightened his grip.

When the touch of his blade was light and tender, I forced it deep into the flesh until only the handle remained.

When doubt flooded his mind at the sound of the guests’ blood curdling scream, I pushed it aside.
When he grimaced in sympathy with the guest, I added the frenzied laugh. When he locked himself away, too scared of what he might do again and overwhelmed with remorse, I told him they were all conspiring against him, that they wouldn’t stop until he was dead, that he had to beat them to it.
62 animals 10 women 1 man and 3 children is all he has managed to destroy so far in his life. It is not enough. It is a mockery. Ernest is holding me back. If I can’t leave then I want to remove all that remains of him in here even if it means cutting him out piece by piece.

 ***************************************************************

 The sun was up and as such, so was I.

62 years 10 months 1 week and 3 days and the day of reckoning had finally arrived. I had thought about this day for a long time.

I had been quiet and unpredictable as a child or so they said. I kept quiet because I heard a voice in my head, it scared me; the voice a muffled echo, and I knew if I shared it with them I would scare them too.

I recall the many hours I would spend out in the woods. Like most boys I knew, I liked catching small creatures to keep as pets, I would keep them in a box in the cellar and I liked to play with them, but that wasn’t enough for him. He always pushed me to go further, threatening me with the bogeyman, monsters, ghosts and anything that he knew a young boy would fear. I didn’t like teasing the creatures, I didn’t like the look they had in their eyes, the terror, and I didn’t like that I must have looked back at them with those same eyes. But he would make me go back until I was no longer teasing them, I was tormenting them, no longer tormenting them but torturing them, and the only way I could stop their pain was by their death.

I’d hoped we had peaked after that first death, that it would be over and he would be satiated. There was little let up and it would begin again, he would carefully select which creature would be next as we worked our way up the food chain. I knew I was too weak to defy him, so I made sure to take my time. It was a slow process. The first was a frog I had found and adopted; he was easy to talk to and I carried him around in the pocket of my dungarees.  He was the only friend the 6 year old me had and as sad as it is, I loved him. A part of me believed that he was a magic frog who would rescue me from the voice in my head, but he didn’t, he was just a normal frog. I knew that he would make me torture him and I knew I couldn’t so as an act of mercy I took my boot and thwacked it down on his head. I felt completely alone.

There were more frogs; and I sliced, and I diced, and I boiled and I burnt in the hope that it would be enough. I discovered that if I made them release a piercing wail of such a pitch as to make your bones ripple, then he would let me kill them and end their misery. I made it my purpose to find a method that would guarantee this and greatly reduce the length of torture. I wanted it to end. Enforced hours were spent hunting and preying from dusk till dawn.

His name is Sam, and everywhere that I went, Sam was sure to follow.

I could sense him there always, watching me, listening, lurking in the shadows of my mind. Even when I closed my eyes he was there, every waking hour, every dream and every nightmare. I felt his presence and I knew he wanted more from me, that he had bigger plans; he would not be satisfied with the small animals for long. I studied Science at school in an attempt to slow him down; examining each animal for several weeks after the kill meant that I would need to kill less. I tried to be as organised, thorough, precise and hypothetic as I could and scoured the guidelines and rules of animal dissection for something that could prevent it.  I bucked against his suggestion that we consider more intelligent creatures, cats, dogs, and even pigs. He enjoyed the games, the tease, the torture and deep down, he thought I did too.

I met a woman in my twenties, she made me feel alive and I couldn’t have been more in love. Her name was Clara, she was so petite she casted the smallest of shadows. I wanted to protect her. Sam stayed away when she was around, when I was happy, and I felt free of him. I would spend all my time with Clara.

I thought this might have been the end of Sam that he would finally be gone. Clara it turned out was just like the frog, she couldn’t help me and she wasn’t magic. I had doted on her for several months only to discover that Clara had betrayed my trust and she truly broke my heart. I was distraught, the happiness had gone, the clouds had returned and Sam’s voice became louder. He was relentless, pushing my buttons, feeding my doubts, reminding me of her treachery. He would only let me sleep for an hour here and there, he would only let me eat small meals every 12 hours, and he wouldn’t let me leave my house, use my phone or talk to anyone. I wish I had known what he was planning. Why didn’t I know? Clara was worried about me and had left messages on the phone and email, let’s talk, I need my stuff, and can we be friends?  Her worry deepened when I hadn’t answered any of them.
Clara came over and her fate was sealed. He pushed me, pressed my buttons, distorted my memories and besieged me mercilessly until I succumbed. There was no way out or around and so I could only go through.

62 days 10 hours 1 minute and 3 seconds was how long it took before he let me stop. I held her heart in my hands. He held my life in his.

I tied her up in her house and robotically obeyed his requests; toy with her, tease her, make her beg for mercy.  Each day she would plead forgiveness, each day she would make me promises, but it was too late, he would never let me stop. I could hear my blood as it pulsated around my body and throbbed in my ears; a heavy beat of white noise that drowned out all reason, all compassion and all control, and his voice reverberating over it.

I tormented and tortured her, I wanted to inflict as much emotional pain in order to delay the physical. Exploiting her weakness, threatening her family and then telling her lies about their demise, I thought that would make her scream out but she was stronger than she looked, she was a fighter. I doped her water with painkillers and muscle relaxants to make the body supple and receptive to the physical torture that would follow.

I couldn’t help but be reminded of those early days with the frog.  She never stopped fighting and everything I tried didn’t seem to work and then her eyes widened, her body writhed, and her soul shook in horror. The relief was impalpable.

For the last thirty years or so I gave up fighting Sam, instead I focussed on perfecting the torture that would lead to a quicker death. I wanted to lose count of how many there were after Clara, but their faces were forever burnt in my memory, I would never be able to escape from them.

I heard a story once about how a man had heard voices in his head that had driven him to kill his family and then himself, he was 21. If only I had been as brave. I went to a help group and met with some others who said they heard voices. Sam told me they were lying and that they just wanted to trick me. I didn’t know who to believe. Sam knows me better than anyone else. He is all the family and friends I have. It was getting out of control and I knew things had to change, to slow down, and so I became a fan of the long game; be it a month or a year or even more.I told Sam that I needed to know with absolute certainty that my meticulous planning would help things run smoothly.  It’s why I had been able to continue, why I had never been caught.

Like I said, it’s the day of reckoning, how do I know? How do you think? I can’t live like this any longer. I have finished being a puppet; I have done enough, it’s time to clear out my mind and all that binds me to this life, if I can’t be free of him, then I can’t live.

Sam must be able to sense my determination, he has started urging me on more for a new victim, and I have started trying to avoid him, but if I have any hope of succeeding and getting out of here, then I can’t let him get to me. Only yesterday I sent him a message in my journal,

 I know you are in there and I know you want to be free. I won’t let that happen. I control you. I am in control. You do not control me.

Sam may think he controls me but that isn’t the case, not anymore. I tried to ignore him, to tell myself he wasn’t real, to survive, but I’m lost here, drowned out. I shall take my life if he won’t leave. I don’t expect to be an angel when I die, I expect to end up in hell, and I feel like I am stuck somewhere in-between.

We all have an inner demon; some remain silent, some occasionally act, some try to befriend us, some hold us back, and a select few need to control us, to make us into them. I was never strong enough to fight back, I mistook Sam for a friend, I let myself torture and be tortured.

I never liked the sight of blood, but Sam bullied me, said it made me weak, tricked me into watching as it pooled around each carcass.

The sound as bones snapped and cracked and shattered under the weight of the hammer, sent shivers through my body, but Sam said a better grip would reduce the noise.

The blade against the skin made a promise of blood and I would never get used to it, but Sam said to stab deep and leave the knife embedded in the wound and then blood would be less.

I always faltered when they let out a blood curdling scream, partly surprise and mostly relief washing over me, but Sam would always be silent as if doubting me.

I had a permanent grimace on my face as I waited for that scream, and when they did I couldn’t help but emit a frenzied laugh knowing they would find peace at last. On occasion I would lock myself away, I was too scared of what he might make me do again and overwhelmed with remorse, but Sam wouldn’t leave me be, telling me they were all conspiring against me, that they wouldn’t stop until I was dead, that I had to beat them to it.

62 animals 10 women 1 man and 3 children is my body count to date. It’s too much. Sam is pushing me forward. I want to remove all that remains of him in here even if it means cutting him out piece by piece.

***************************************************************

 The music playing on the radio faded and the news report began…

Police today have released an official statement in relation to the capture and imprisonment of the serial killer known simply as ‘Slicer Sam’. He is believed to be responsible for the stalking, kidnapping, torturing and murder of at least 10 women, 1 man and 3 children across the county. It is not known how many more victims there may have been.

Officers were called to 62 St Barbara’s Boulevard at 10am on the 13^thJune by a woman reporting that she heard screams coming from inside her neighbour’s property. She claimed that witches lived in the house and believed that the residents regularly held séances and exorcisms.

On arrival, the officers secured the perimeter before attempting to enter. Officer Benson who was first on the scene reported that he could hear an agonising shrill coming from inside and believed that someone was in danger.

Although there were sounds coming from inside, none of the known residents were allowing the officers entry, and they forced their way in.

What they found when they reached the rear of the property was a disturbing scene of blood and butchery. A naked man lay lifeless in the centre of a what appeared to be a pentagram, etched on the wooden floor; he had sustained multiple injuries to his legs, arms and torso, his hands and feet were nailed to the floor mimicking a crucifixion, his eyes had been gauged out and were lying beside him.
The homeowner and his wife, Bob and Sue Jones, were standing nearby dressed in what once must have been white robes but which were now coated in blood. Neither has spoken since the incident and are both currently being held on remand in separate psychiatric hospitals.

The officers searched the house and during this time they came across ‘Slicer Sam’ huddled under some laundry in the utility room. He was naked and his body smeared in blood (it was later identified as pigs blood). When Officer Benson attempted to arrest him he was attacked, Slicer Sam jumped on the officer, wailing and mumbling in alternate extremes, biting a chunk of flesh from the face of Officer Benson and swallowing it in one gulp. The officer was only saved from certain death by the quick thinking of a fellow officer who sprayed disinfectant into the perpetrators eyes, disorientating him enough for the officer to escape.

Slicer Sam was eventually captured and sedated and taken to a maximum security prison where he will await trial and it is expected he will receive the death penalty.

Officer Benson made a swift recovery from his injuries and is back on duty. The victim who was found in the house was treated for his injuries, but will never regain his sight, and has since been released from hospital.

Ernest drained the dregs of his coffee and stood up, fumbling slightly as he did so, he picked up his white stick, and as he gently clacked it against the cafés table legs, he headed to the door.
Stepping out into the warmth of the midday sun he gave a sigh, free at last, as he stepped out into the road.

Twelve Days (It takes two): Day 5

Ryan sighed as he dragged himself out of bed. They had returned late last night from the Food Bank and lugging about all that food had been more exercise than he had done in a while. But he had an early start with the dog training club and Amber must have known because she was already at his side, eyeing him with those big brown peepers of hers and threatening to pounce unless he moved sharpish.

Ryan was grateful that the rain had stayed away but the wind was blowing like nobody's business.  The session began as usual with them running around the field to warm up. The sound of moccasins squelching in the mud made Ryan smile as he imagined some of them losing their shoes. He stifled a giggle,

"Ryan, Ryan. Please stop!"
Ryan's smile vanished and he stood stock still looking at the instructor, surely she couldnt tell him when he could and couldnt smile?
"Everyone has stopped but you are still loping about. You said you were taking this class seriously. Is it the dog who is disobedient or you Ryan."

Ryan felt affronted by her comments, she seemed to like calling him out and making him look a fool, Sarah said he was being paranoid but he was sure of it.
"I'm listening."
"Ok, everyone, we will run through our routine now. You all know the order. So lets start shall we. Once we do this a couple of times we can have a five minute rest."
"Blinkin' 'eck! Some of us are about to 'ave 'eart attacks and she says we only get 5 minutes rest" groaned Thomas.

Some of the ladies giggled, but they all began the exercise, Ryan was pleased with Amber as she seemed to know exactly what she had to do and she did listen to his commands. He felt guilty that he had even brought her to the class as she didnt seem to need it.

Finally, the break came and Ryan was glad of it. As he sat on the bench chatting to Thomas, as much as he could through the gale force wind that seemed to carry their voices far away, some of the older ladies came over to them. Ryan was slightly worried that a couple of them might get blown away but as if by magic the wind ceased and it was calm at last.

He looked at the first lady expecting her to speak but instead it was Thomas.
"Ryan, I was telling these lovely ladies about you being a new dad, I hope you dont mind?"
"Of course not, I've been telling everyone I meet!"
"Well, I told the ladies about your worries and well they have something for you" and with that the ladies handed Ryan several bags.

He was stunned, what could they possibly have given him, as he peered into the first bag the smell of lavendar floated up to his nostrils and reminded him of his late grandmother. He pulled out the first item, a hand knitted pure white cardigan, and it dawned on him that these ladies had knitted him some clothes for his baby. As he went through each one he became more emotional as he knew each item was made with such kindness and he felt a blush rise up his neck.




"Thank you ladies, I dont know what to say, really I dont. They are beautiful. Stunning. You really didnt have to."

"Don't worry about it Ryan, we get a lot of pleasure from it and to give to someone so deserving and as well-mannered as you"
"Thank you"

The ladies left the bench with huge smiles plastered across their faces, feeling very proud of their work and pleased that he was so grateful.
They heard the distinct screech of the trainers whistle and stood as if to attention, Ryan helped Thomas to stand, "Back onto the the breach dear friend?" and they both sniggered.

"Hey, Ryan, are you going to put these bags in your car? They might get blown away."
"They'll be ok, we only have half an hour left of the session and the wind has eased off now."
The whistle shrilled again and they both hurried off towards the group.

Half an hour later, sweating and huffing, Ryan headed back to collect the bags from the bench. It was only as he got closer that he noticed some movement on the bench, a SQUIRREL!

Ryan legged it as fast as he could to scare it off and it ran but not without taking a couple of cardigans with him. Ryan was relieved that it was only the two and gathered up the bags and took them to the car.

As he was leaving the car park he saw one of the ladies waving at him, he waved back, and she began to shake her fist frantically as she screwed up her face, Ryan thought he could see her holding something white in her hand, but opted to wave back with more fervour, flash his headlights and toot his horn before he drove straight past them and home.

Twelve days (It takes two): Day 4

Christmas at Ryan’s work was in full swing, decorations covered every surface or at least it seemed that way to Ryan, and everyone had started to wind down ready for the break. It was company tradition to throw a small party at work, it was always held on the 23^rd December as most people didn’t want to hang around on Christmas Eve.  There were always nibbles and drinks and a Santa Claus for the fun factor. This year the lady who always organised every company event had fallen and broken her arm, so although she didn’t mind organising everything, any heavy lifting would need to be done by someone else and a rota had been drawn up. Ryan had hoped to have to help with the conference which he was attending, he had planned to skip the party this year, but he had been assigned to help her with the Christmas nibbles.

That was how Ryan came to find himself, on a Saturday morning, following Patricia along the aisles of the local cash and carry. Occasionally, she would turn and ask Ryan what he thought about things but his answers never seemed to please her, and she opted for the opposite of what he said, he wondered why she even bothered asking him in the first place.

Turning into the second to last aisle, Ryan was met with shelves full to the brim of baby items; nappies in huge packs of 100, bottles, dummies, baby food and even clothes. It was quite overwhelming and Patricia tugged Ryan’s arm and indicated that she was ready for the till.

“Just a moment Patricia…” Ryan was struck with inspiration. Number two on the list was to make sure that his child was fed; he could buy some of this food and baby milk, save a lot of money and not have to worry about food for the baby for a while. He checked the use by dates and decided to get some. Sarah would be very pleased, it would make up for the painting debacle, and she would have to accept that if anyone was ready to be a parent it was him.

“Erm…Ryan…are you sure you need all that?” asked Patricia.
“What? Oh yes, yes, its ok. I know what I am doing.”
Ryan had sweat dripping off his forehead and wiped it away with his sleeve, he had finally finished carrying all the baby food into the dining room, and it was the only place that had any space in for that quantity of stuff. He heard the key turning in the lock and rushed back quickly to the lounge where he flung himself on the sofa and pretended that he had been there all along. Ryan would surprise Sarah later after he had a chance to broach the subject, and when she said it was a good idea he would simply have to open the door and say tadaa!

“Hey Ryan, have you been laying on that sofa all evening?”
“Hey Sarah, no, I’ve been busy. Just having a few minutes with my feet up.”
“Well, I can hear Amber scratching at the door, have you taken her for a walk yet?”
“Oh, no, not yet. I’ll take her after the news.”
“She seems quite frantic Ryan, I’ll let her out in the garden, and then you can take her after the news”
“hmmm…yeah…ok”

Ryan was engrossed in something on the news, he would take Amber later, she was fine earlier, and she had just lain in her dog basket watching him do all the heavy lifting.

He sat up bolt right, Ambers dog basket was kept in the dining room and he must have shut her in there. He jumped up and headed to the dining room. Sarah was standing in the doorway motionless.
“Sarah! I was about to tell you, I wanted to surprise you.”
Her head turned slowly to look at him. Ryan gave a weak smile.
“Explain.”
“Explain, yes of course, I can explain. I went to the cash and carry today and I saw all this food for babies and it seemed like such a good buy that I thought, why not?”
“Why not? Let me see….half of this at least will be out of date by the time the baby is old enough to eat it and the rest, well, the rest is all the same flavour…”
Ryan hadn’t bothered to look at the flavour, he just saw the price and how much of a bargain it would be, he realised that he might have been a little hasty.
“Oh! I don’t think they do returns, it was an ‘everything must go’ sort of sale…”
“Let’s take it to the Food Bank, some families will be able to benefit from this, it’s not so bad.”
Ryan was relieved that it wouldn’t be wasted and knew that if anyone asked he would be saying that he bought it on purpose. What’s that saying? Charity starts at home.

Twelve Days (It takes two): Day 3

Last night, after the training course, Ryan had decided to turn sleuth in order to work on the first step in being the best parent he could. His new friend Thomas had told him that ‘a kid needs a roof over their head – don’t want them getting wet’ and having thought about it and talked it through with Amber, he had come up with a plan.

Ryan and Sarah had a home, but for the last few months of Sarah’s pregnancy she had been badgering him to decorate the baby’s room, and he had promised he would only he hadn't yet. The only part of the conversation that he had listened to was that it needed decorating, he had switched off when she had discussed the details, he had been too busy thinking about the last boys trip he would have before the baby. A weekend playing golf in Scotland. Ryan would need to gather intel (he watched far too much CSI) on what kind of ideas she had for the room.

“Hey Sair…I was just…erm..wondering…hypothetical question for you…if you were having a baby…”
“I am”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But just say hypothetically, if you were having a baby and were going to say…I don’t know...decorate a room or something just for them…what colour would you choose? Just hypothetically”

Sarah looked up from the book she was reading on having a baby and looked at Ryan, and with a crinkled brow she replied “Mint green…hypothetically speaking of course” and she turned back to continue reading. Ryan could have sworn he saw her roll her eyes and shake her head from the corner of his eye but decided he must have imagined it.

Luckily, for the last few weeks, Ryan had been working flexi-time and he decided that he would use the hours he had accumulated to take a half day and go to the local DIY shop and buy some paint, then come home and paint the babys room.
He was currently stood in the paint aisle of the shop with his mouth slightly agape in awe at how many different shades of paint there were. When they had decorated the house, when they first moved in, he had mindlessly followed Sarah into the shop, and done the carrying. It was only now that he giving any attention to the paint. It was daunting. There was an upside, and that was that the paint was on a special offer;

Now what colour was it Sarah wanted? Ah yes, how could he forget, she wanted a mink green. Ryan leant in to take a closer look at the colour chart that was hanging beside the paints. There were so many different shades and such curious names, Tungsten Green…Churlish Green…Saxon Green…Breakfast Room Green…there were so many greens…he couldn’t see a mink one. What colour was mink anyway? He looked at the greys and there was no mink, he looked at the browns and there was no mink, he looked at the pinks and there was no mink and so he checked the greens again, and there was definitely no mink green. If he spent any longer picking the paint he wouldn’t have time to paint the room before Sarah got home. The best thing for him to do was to see which colours were on offer and pick one of them. They had London Stone, Brinjal, Charlottes Locks and Green Smoke. Green Smoke was the only green and so he picked up two cans of it and went to pay.

Only 6 hours later and he had given the small box room, which was to be the baby’s room, two coats of Green Smoke. He had got a little bit over himself and stood in the paint tray a couple of times but there wasn’t any carpet down so he didn’t worry. He was proud that he had done a good job, had done it all in a day, made minimal mess and was now able to tick off number one on the list. His baby would have a roof over their head and they would also have a nice room too.
He was still admiring his handiwork when he heard the key turn in the lock and Sarah’s voice, “Ryan? Ryan? I can smell paint. Where are you?”
“Come upstairs Sarah, I have a surprise for you!”
Sarah reached the top of the stairs a few minutes later, slightly pink in the face and panting and she looked at Ryan, “What have you done Ryan? Please tell me you haven’t painted the baby’s room?”
“SURPRISE!!”
Sarah walked very slowly to the door of the room and stood there gobsmacked.
“No need to say anything honey, I know its great right? And you say I never listen. I must confess though, I couldn’t find Mink Green but green is green. What do you think?”
Sarah scanned the room, slowly taking in the colour of the walls before noticing the paint footprints walked across her newly varnished wooden floorboards.
“What HAVE YOU DONE!!” she screamed.
“Wha…what? I thought you would like it.”
“LIKE IT! LIKE IT!...I..I…I can’t speak…” and she stormed off to the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Ryan was confused, he had painted it the colour she wanted, he had done a good job of the walls and she had reacted as if he has done something wrong. He felt deflated and crestfallen as he headed to the bedroom to see if he could find out why she had reacted in the manner that she did. Sarah’s hormones were all over the place with the pregnancy so maybe it had nothing to do with him at all. Before he left he took another look at the room, and it was only then that he really looked properly at the room and realised that the floorboards which he hadn’t been worried about, were varnished to perfection, that the specks of paint that flew off the roller when he got a bit crazy painting along to ACDC, had spattered the babys cot, then he saw that he had painted the lightswitch. He went over and started unscrewing it and as he pulled it away from the wall he saw that the colour underneath was a pale pink. It struck him as odd, as when he had painted the room it had been a very pale green, like a... mint green.

Ryan gently pushed open the door and stuck his arm around it, in his hand was a small stuffed toy rabbit, he made his voice squeaky and said,
“Sawah, sawah…wyan is vewwy vewwy sowwy…can you ever forgive him?”
Sarah gave a loud sigh.
“Come in..”
Ryan sheepishly slid through the small gap and sat down next to Sarah, who was lying on the bed, and handed the bunny to her. She sat up and Ryan saw that her eyes were red and felt extremely guilty.
“I didn’t know! I...I wanted to help...I’m sorry”
“Sometimes Ryan you test my patience to the nth degree, I spent last weekend decorating that room, getting it just right, making it perfect for our baby and you come back and in one day you completely wreck the joint. I know you mean well but…next time…can you mean less?"
“Ok, ok, I understand. I was away last weekend and I guess I didn’t really notice when I came back. Then, yesterday when I asked you about the paint you never said…”
“Ryan, I thought you were being funny…you do that sometimes you know…”
Ryan gave Sarah his best puppy dog eyes and she rested her head on his shoulder.
“I will forgive you on one condition…”
“Anything!”
“You pay a decorator to come in and paint it back to Mint Green and to sort the floorboards out”
“Deal.”

Twelve Days (It takes two): Day 2

It was 10.30am and Ryan and Amber were currently shivering in unison by the bandstand. Today there was no band instead there was a clamour of dog owners and their pooches. Ryan had been under the impression that other people in his class were also having babies, but the average age of those gathered must have been 75 at least, and he began to doubt that he was in the right class.
“Okay class…attention please…” a deep voiced woman bellowed from just behind Ryan but when he turned she was tiny.
“It’s time for a roll call. If you will all please come over and form a circle in that more open area over there then that’d be great. Ok. Let’s start then, Percy Chapman and Snappy…”
“Here”
“Dot Wightman and Leona…”
There were about 12 people with dogs, not including the trainer, and Ryan was the last name to be called.
“Okay, now let’s start with a short warm up. We shall slowly jog around this part of the park in a circular route. Now let’s go, you can lead us Mabel, that’s it, hold firmly on Baxter’s lead”
Ryan started to jog away with Amber when he heard the trainer call him back.
“Hello Ryan, my name is Tina, welcome to the class. You may have noticed that your classmates aren’t about to be new parents like yourself, but obedience training is the same regardless. I had booked you win with the other new parents who all started on the 17^th but …you missed that one, and this was the only class that had space. Sadly… but luckily for you, one became available at the last minute, poor Mr Jenkins and Toto…” she gazed off into the distance as if deep in thought, “…anyway, you’re here and you’re ready to learn? “
“Yes, I was born ready…” the silence drifted like tumbleweed between them as his flippancy fell flat on its face.
“I hope you intend to take this class seriously Ryan. It’s a big responsibility becoming a parent and you need to be ready. A part of that is making sure that you bring your baby home to a safe environment and it is my job to make sure that you are able to do that with a well behaved bitch”
Ryan felt quite uncomfortable, she was more than a little condescending, but he knew that she was right and he stood up straight and gave her his serious face. It seemed to do the trick, and they were dismissed and sent to jog around the park with the others.
The class was much more physical than he had thought and after 45 minutes he was huffing and puffing with the rest of them. It worried him slightly that he was as tired as those 30, 40 and even 50 years older than him. He made a mental note to get back to the gym in the new year.  Tina signalled for them to take a break and blew her whistle. Ryan collapsed on a nearby bench and Amber laid at his feet panting.
“You alright lad? You look shattered. Not used to making the old ticker do some work, eh?”
“Sorry?” Ryan looked up to see one of the class members sit down next to him on the bench. He was probably in his late 70s, had a gentle stoop, was very slight and pale but with a full head of white hair. Sat next to him was a Dalmatian.
“Erm, I’m just resting, I’m ok. What about you?”
“I’m good thanks lad. Still life in the old dog yet. So tell me…what are you doing in this class with all us oldies?”
Ryan told the old man, who said his name was Thomas, about missing the first class and about having his first baby with Sarah and he found that talking to the stranger was easy and he felt able to admit that he was scared about letting them both down.
“You know what laddie, there are really only five things that a kid needs and if you get them sorted then it will be plain sailing; if that is the one thing I have learnt about parenting in my 87 years, it’s that.”
Ryan was surprised at the man’s age and impressed that he might have some wisdom to impart, he needed all the help he could get.
“So tell me Thomas, what are the five things?” He was thinking he might be able to do them all before the in-laws arrived for Christmas.
“Well, let me see now;

1. A kid needs a roof over their head – don’t want them getting wet
2. Make sure they are fed and watered – don’t want them starving
3. They need to be clothed – keeps ‘em warm and cosy, right.
4. They need to be loved and feel like they’re loved – makes em grow up ‘appy and finally
5. You have to relax – some days it will seem like a crazy idea and nigh on impossible, but trust me, you sort out 1 to 4 and you can relax. “

“Wow! That’s a pretty good list. I shall try my best to make sure I do all those things.”
Now, if Ryan had learnt anything last Christmas it was that if he had a plan, then he was pretty good at following it. His brain was already working overtime on how he was going to make sure he could check everything off the list. He told himself, “Starting from tomorrow, I shall have five days till the in-laws arrive, five steps in five days. It’ll be a breeze!”

Twelve Days (It takes two) : Day 1

Day 1
The waves lapped against his face as he floated on the Indian Ocean with not a care in the world, the warm breeze blowing through his hair, the distinct smell of the sea licking at his nostrils, Ryan inhaled deeply.
“Aargh! That’s not the smell of the sea!” Ryan began spluttering as Amber’s toxic gas emanated from her rear to his face and she licked him avidly. That dog sure knew how to ruin a man’s dream.

He sat up in the bed and gently shoved Amber aside, wrinkling his nose as he did so and fighting back the smile that was starting to form on his lips, he really loved that dog even if he wasn’t always convinced, like when he was picking up her poo in the park, but all in all he loved her to bits.

Ryan held her head in his hands and looked into her big brown eyes and sighed, “Not long to go now Amber, you’ll love the baby and the baby will love you, I promise” Sarah had read, and made Ryan read, every book in Waterstones was on getting your dog ready for a new baby, yet he wasn’t sure how Amber would cope and In all honesty, he wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to cope.
Sarah was over brimming with confidence and he envied her assuredness slightly, but with only twelve days until the baby would be arriving, he had been tasked (by Sarah) with taking Amber on a dog obedience course. The pamphlet said that you would ‘learn how to teach any dog, big or small, to accept a new member to the pack in just an hour a day’.

Today was the first day of the course and he was already running late. The training was to take place in a local park; it was one of the areas biggest and one that was popular with the local dog walkers. The confirmation email he had said that the first session was to take place on the 17^th December at 10.30am and that everyone should meet by the band stand. As he approached he noticed that the band stand was occupied with of all things a band, they were playing Christmas hymns and carols and a crowd had gathered around. Ryan thought the band might be a distraction and that maybe the woman running the training should have planned better or at least arranged for them to meet somewhere away from the event. The band was good and Ryan stood for a while, listening to the carols and waiting for the other people to turn up, he looked around at the crowd that were milling about, were these going to be his new classmates?

It took a few minutes for Ryan to realise that they didn’t have any dogs. He checked his watch, it was 10.45am, and he looked about for someone who might be an elite dog trainer. Ryan wasn’t exactly sure what one would look like but assumed that she would be wearing a company T-shirt or at least have a whistle hanging around their neck. He stayed there until 11, and decided to ring Sarah to find out if it had been cancelled, and when he realised he hadn’t got his phone with him he headed back to the car. It was lying on the passenger seat and Ryan could make out through the glass that he had missed some calls, he could also make out through the glass that he had left his keys in the ignition. Ryan looked up to the sky, “Really God? Really? You know this isn’t funny, right?” and with that the clouds opened up and rain poured down on him. Amber gave him a look that said, “You had to ask” and crawled under the car to keep dry.

Sarah opened the door to a very wet and very disgruntled Ryan. He had found a payphone and tried to call her to ask if she could bring him the spare set of keys but she hadn’t answered, and he had walked home and been standing outside the door for the last 30 minutes trying to get in.
“Ryan! You’re soaked! Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone? I must have left you a hundred messages. The trainer called, she wanted to know why you missed the class yesterday. I told her you must have got your days mixed up, so she has put you in the class that starts tomorrow, is that ok?”

Ryan just stayed on the doorstep. He slowly processed the information. He was there at 10.30am on the 17^th December…he looked at his watch and only then noticed the date was the 18^th.
“Where were you?” he asked.
“I took a bath, my back has been total agony today, I was listening to Christmas songs, and sorry I didn’t hear you…are you…are you ok?”
Ryan managed a smile, “sure thing, honey. Can you do me a favour? Amber is at the park underneath my car; would you go and pick her up?” he didn’t want to worry her with his stupidity. How was he going to cope with a baby when he couldn’t even remember a mobile phone?

#FSF Alone

The brightness of the morning sun as it shines down onto the path, lighting up the way, it rests warm tickles against your skin. The scent of the damp earth rises up to meet you, swirling around and around until it fills your nostrils, before finding its new home. The sound of the wind as it whistles through the trees, trilling through a labyrinth of branches, the leaves rustling so noisily that they drown out your worries.
You’re not alone on the path; an upturned collar, a scarf covering all but the eyes, a hat precariously resting on his head and then his gait changes, the casual stroll he embodied has become more rigid, the energy bounces on the air between you, a frisson that causes static on the ends of your hair, you hold your breath as you take a glance up at his eyes.
How many times have you wandered alone in this forest in search of your fate, and here you are, face to face, an arm’s reach away, breathing, looking, and then his eyes crinkle and joy dances across his face as he hands you a bouquet of roses, ‘we meet at last…’