The Weird Woman by Isla Robertson

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Your door. And you’ve got no idea what it took for me to do that by the way. If anyone finds out I’m here. If she… But thanks for, well, thanks for seeing me. 

So can you help me? I can’t go to the police. They’d think I’m fucking nuts for a start and she’d... No one can know I’m here. No one.

I don’t know where to start.

Ok, Friday night. Payday. Me and the lads are out on the lash and we go into this bar and I see her. This Goddess. Fiery hair and eyes that... God, when she looked at me I couldn’t move. She’s wearing this dress, tight and black and...I’ve never seen a woman like her. The lads have gone to...well, the bar I suppose and I’m just staring. Standing and staring and staring and she’s looking back. I can’t believe it but she is. I buy her a drink and she smiles at me. This amazing wide smile and I- My hearts pounding and my bell end’s twitching and I want her. I buy her a few more drinks and we’re laughing and then - she comes home with me. Me. That night. I can’t even describe it… It was unbelievable. Like nothing I’ve ever- Like nothing, earthly. Turns out that was the fucking problem. 

She leaves the next morning, says she lived alone, just up the road. She tells me she has a hard life. I don’t know, I thought maybe she’d had her benefits cut or something but she asks me to do her a few wee favours. Not like that! Well that as well, but I mean getting her a few messages here and there, you know and she helped me too. I work in a garage and I get sores on my hands and she made me this ointment. Worked like, well magic. 

Don’t look at me like that! You know about this stuff, I know you do, it’s on your website. 

Anyway, the garage’s getting busy. I’m working every hour God sends and she doesn’t like it. I don’t have much time for her anymore and she- 

One night- I meant to bring her a bottle of pinot but I don’t finish till ten and… Fucking licensing laws. So I don’t have anything to give her. I see that now. Now I’ve seen your website. But she gets angry. Really angry. Starts yelling blue bloody murder. I don’t know what to do so I scarper and she’s screaming after me, screaming a curse at me. 

You see why I’m saying this now? You see why I’ve come to you? 

I get home, lock the door and I can feel the sweat dripping down my back. I don’t know if it’s the running or what she was saying but I’m shaking and I’m still holding onto the lock. My knuckles are white. I keep breathing but it’s catching in my throat. I can still hear her words slamming into my head: “may the devil lay his wrath upon you”. 

The Devil. Oh Jesus. You sure you won’t tell anyone about this?

I try to let go of the lock but I’ve got this pain, right in the middle of my head and it spreads and it spreads and it’s agony. I feel like I’m on fire and I’m crying. I’m crying out for someone to help me. I see shapes. A fiery demon who’s roaring at me and this animal, I don’t know what, a cat, a weasel, a rat, I don’t know. But it was in my flat. I try to catch it but the pain. You have to understand the pain. It was like nothing I’ve ever…

Next morning I wake up and it’s gone. It’s all gone and I’m alone. Except now I’m cold. I’m really, really cold. Its summer but I’m shivering. Feeling ill like I’ve never felt, never seen. And I know it was her. I don’t know how but I do. 

On the third day I’m sweating. I’ve got this fever and I feel like I’m going to die. I crawl to my phone and I hit search. I’m desperate. I can’t ring 999. What the fuck could they do? This isn’t natural. God, I sound like I’m nuts. I don’t believe in this. I can’t, it’s fucking mental. I don’t want to believe it but I’ve seen what I’ve seen and...I don’t want to do it, I don’t want to but I start typing. I add the headache, the cold, the fever, the demon, the animal. The curse. And it comes up with you. Some article you’ve written. So that’s why I knocked. I have to know. You have to tell me. Is this real? All this... this shit. Is it real? Your article, it said that people gave them things. Gave them things to keep them sweet. And I gave her things and she smiled. And then I didn’t and she...What have I done? 

I sit there thinking and I think, it can’t hurt, trying it again. Just to see. I didn’t believe in it, I don’t but I phone the Golden Dragon and order her favourite and I’m sitting there begging...begging her to know it was from me. I’m watching the clock and my head’s throbbing, I think I’m going to vomit and then...It stops. It all stops. Just like that. My head feels normal. The fever’s gone. So it’s true isn’t it. She’s a... 

Look is this real? I need to know and I don’t know the stuff you do. You’re my only hope. So, is it real? Is she a.... We don’t burn them anymore you see and I can’t go to the police. I’m living on a street with a... I don’t know what to do. I need to know what to do. Because she is, isn’t she Professor? She’s a witch. 

© Isla Robertson 2017