Wicked - 6. Jake 3

Friday afternoon at school was hotter, there were sweat-stains on the back of school shirts as kids slapped handballs against the grey bricks. Walking the footpath and eating canteen food. I sat alone on the corner of the Marble Tree's enclosure, ignoring the teens who were furrowing away in the dirt behind me. I skimmed through my English essay assignment, got quickly bored and stuffed the papers back into my bag. Almost pulled out a cigarette but saw Mr Steele heading across the quadrangle from the office. These last few days I'd been spending more lunches alone or with others, away from my obnoxious bandmates. They gave me drugs and other nice things, but I could only listen to Laurene's bossy whinging for so long before having to struggle with the urge to knock her out. Lord knows what kind of shit her overprotective father would pull if I gave his sweet little daughter a black eye.

That morning I'd jumped out of bed, fetched Lilith's sigil from my bottom drawer, lit her candle and incense before pouring her another glass of wine. This offering was an apology. I was rescinding my previous ritual. I put the second glass of wine next to the first on my makeshift altar in the corner of my bedroom. Lilith could be fierce but also motherly, and luckily I could feel her willing to pull back from murdering my love.

At least three times now I've tried killing Kyle before either backing out or causing it to fail because of my own hesitancy. What would I be if he was gone? Each time I'd planned his death there'd been different reasoning. The first time I'd tried being logical about it: if I was so irrevocably in love with this boy surely the only way to be free was to kill him? Then afterwards it had been about justice, fairness. And then I'd wanted to kill him just to make an example of him, a way of flipping my middle finger to the universe. I also wanted to kill him for personal power. If this boy made me weak, surely it was a huge testament to my power that I could overcome and strike him down like a divining god.

In moments when I wasn't full of venom-mouthed satisfaction at the idea of him rotting in the earth, I recalled his beauty with a sense of hopeless tragedy. What if after he dies I never get over it? What if I still love him, even gone and weep with rage, demanding why he'd made me do this to him. I am a powerful man – a god. This worthless rodent-being had no power, the conflict of whether he lives or dies, the choices wrapped up in turmoil exist within me. His fate was in my hands.

I'd come up with an answer to my problem, and it felt like Lilith was willing to help me.

The first time I'd come across her name on the occult forum it stood out to me. Then after sleeping I'd dreamt of having sex with a woman in the shower and came hard. Definitely unusual when you consider I'd never contemplated having sex with a woman before. I abruptly woke up when the dream ended and could feel an invisible something sitting on the end of my bed.

After evoking her a few times I learned that Lilith was the fiercest being I'd ever worked with, more so than her male demon counterparts. She encouraged women she worked with to embrace their dark inner goddess while from men she demanded submissiveness. Lilith is the mother of succubi, the first wife of Adam who refused to lay under him in the Garden of Eden. She represented the dark feminine, sexuality and sadism. The seducer of men and the devourer of children.

A marble hit the dirt beside me and bounced into the grass, a shrimpy bespectacled boy went running after it. I felt the same rage I always do when someone comes close to invading my personal space without permission. My arms were itching to strike at the audacious pest. He scurried past me and back to his friends.

Kyle deserved the worst punishment possible. Killing him may not necessarily negate my feelings, nor would it cause him great pain for long. Instead I would have to torture him all the days of his life. He deserved to experience the utmost of human suffering, to experience as much pain as was humanly possible. I wanted him to be ripped apart and live through it. I'd do a ritual to give him a back injury instead, turn him into a fucking cripple. A broken insect. And then maybe afterwards he'd be dependent on me all his life and I'd be able to forgive him. I had an image of it in my head, him wheelchair-bound, living with me and needing me. Burning passion as I imagined making love to my paralysed partner, the fantasy got me flushed and hard.

Yes, that would be perfect. Nobody else could possibly want him with a fucked up spine and being unable to walk. I would be able to care for him dutifully and lovingly for the rest of our lives. This fantasy satisfied both my bloodlust and affection. He'd be miserable, and I'd be free to bask at his bedside. To care for and worship him.

Perhaps this was destiny. That my greatest foe would also be my supremely beloved. A love of the greatest intensity that spans the width of all human emotion.

Systematic destruction, I may need separate rituals to ensure he can't take his own life, that he be separated from any spirit helpers on the other side, then ask Lilith to make him suffer every single day. It was the only fair outcome. The school bell rang and I stood, moving off to class. I could map out the blueprint for Kyle's torture with a pen and paper. I was going out to the Cape Plaza tonight with my bandmates, but perhaps I could do one of the rituals after school. My weekend was free, apart from the beachside birthday party we'd be performing at. Most likely I'd have everything organized to put Kyle in a wheelchair by Monday.

The venom returned to my mouth. When fangs and claws aren't sharp enough, it's good to have black magic on hand.

After school we of Occupational Hazard decided to get dinner at the pub, so I left home earlier than I would've liked. I poured Lilith's first glass of wine down the sink and left the second, I read that you should leave altar offerings for twenty-four hours. Late at night they have a maximum number of patrons allowed inside the Cape Plaza because it gets so popular. If you get there when the sun's still up it's not so busy and the security guards let you in after scanning your finger ID. The bouncer was looking at drivers' licence photos, scrutinizing faces, checking that fingerprints were received before greeting people by name as they passed him. I handed over my ID to a black uniformed man well over six feet tall, scanned my finger and beat him to it before he could speak.

"I go by Jake."

"Alright Jake," he handed back my ID and clearly couldn't care less "Have a nice night."

I waited beyond the doors with Laurene, Carter and Joshua before the last of our band followed me in.

"You hate your first name that much?" Kevin said to me curiously.

"Yes. Jackson is my middle name, ergo I go by Jake."

"Let's just get food guys, I'm starving." Carter complained as we moved off.

"I bet you are, fatty." Laurene led us the way she usually did, striding forward with her dyed-black ponytail swishing behind her. Carelessly direct.

There were old people eating and drinking at tables in a carpeted room. A big screen by the bar showed horseracing, the sounds thwack and plunk of pool cues hitting balls across felt and sinking them. There was a revolving glass case in the corner for bingo; currently a woman with a microphone was calling out the numbers for a meat raffle. Down another corridor I could see the flashing lights of gambling machines and the glass-walled smoking area. We moved on to the restaurant part, made our way through a series of winding rows made by those waist-high dividing poles and straps of seatbelt material. We picked our orders from the selection of wood-fried pizzas off a laminated menu. The cashier gave us a table number and we decided to sit in the outdoor space overlooking the waterfront.

Metal chairs dragged across concrete as we took our seats. There were rows of heat lamps under metal coverings. Below the railing we could see joggers along the esplanade in the evening light, surfers out at sea in the distance.

"Do we have a game plan for Saturday?" Kevin asked.

"We set up at five-thirty then we can play six songs." Laurene sat side-on in her chair, even more reminiscent of a spoilt child "Pretty soon they'll move the party to the rocks so carrying our instruments will be the hardest part."

"Well we can't carry the drums onto the rocks." Kevin replied.

"Or the boom box." I added and she shrugged.

"There's gonna be over fifty people, booze and the ocean on a hot night. We could just have fun, why we gotta play?" Carter shrunk from Laurene's warning look. It seemed she really was adamant on playing, she shifted herself to sit properly and her boots rested on the floor.

"This will be our first and maybe our only actual gig."

"What are we gonna play?" I sighed.

"Slipknot, Evanescence..." she shrugged again "Unless you finished your song and we can play our music to it."

I frowned before reaching into the back pocket of my jeans, smoothing the crinkled paper and handing it over to her. The others were all curious as Laurene unfolded and started reading.

"This is some pretty fucked up melodramatic stuff, I love it. Especially the part apart tearing out each other's hearts and forcing them to beat as one." She looked up with a grin "Who's the sorry boy that broke your heart?"

"Nobody. I've never had a broken heart."

"Well I like it."

"It's a screamer so you can belch to your heart's content. I made it to fit with Joshua's music and included the solo guitar riff Carter's been working on."

"Nice. I say we do it. Should play at least one original song. I'll get the papers printed off tonight." Laurene pocketed the paper, surprising me.

"We're not even gonna rehearse it?" Joshua asked, flicking his fringe back "We're just gonna get up and play it?"

"Of course, why not?" Laurene started leaning on her back chair legs. The girl couldn't sit properly for any longer than a minute.

I stared across the tabletops as I waited for our orders to arrive. I felt like the odd one out, no dyed hair or piercings, no spiked wristbands or fishnet sleeves. In black jeans and a button-up I still blended in enough. I zoned out of the conversation, Carter was complaining about his performance anxiety. Eventually the waitress arrived with a pizza tray on each arm. She set them down and went off to grab the others. When the sun was setting we were finishing up our meals. The food was good, chicken avocado as well as olives and chilli, we ended up sharing pieces around. The heat lamps turned on and the musicians were playing, more young people showing up and dancing with drinks in hand. I'd been drinking alcohol since I was thirteen; on my second bourbon and coke tonight I had a light buzz.

As the boys drank they got louder and louder. I was the opposite, bunching up as the alcohol brought the scum of my insides to the surface. Something about the booze gave me a romantic fluttering, leading me to glare out at the ocean distance. Bad enough Kyle invaded my thoughts every minute of every waking hour of every day. When I was like this I wanted to kill him even more. Or kill someone else, but we were in a closed-in space. If this were a beach party I may have been free to follow a drunken wanderer behind the rocks and strangle them. Instead I scanned the crowds, trying to pick out a guy to have sex with. I wanted a heart to destroy.

"Oi Jake, zoning out again?"

"Leave him Kevin, you know Jake's a moody drunk. He's no fun at all when he drinks."

They were right about that. I ignored them until later on in the night when Laurene suggested we leave and drink a full bottle of whiskey in Joshua's cabin. When I followed them out the room was swaying. I didn't remember how many drinks I'd had, they went down one after the other. Getting plastered the night before a show sounded about right for us.

Everything after the Cape Plaza was a blur. I had flashes of lining up at a kebab shop by the street. Falling into the furniture in Joshua's cabin. Pills of ecstasy in clear sachets, handed out and giving me enough energy to run up-down the street. Throwing up on white pebbles under the row of bushes in the backyard, small like bonsai trees. Laurene falling on her butt with side-splitting laughter when the terrier dog waddled over and started eating it from beside me. A carousel of street and fluorescent lights before darkness.

I woke up hanging off the couch, mouth tasting of sick. Fought to stand and dragged my feet into the bathroom, head pounding from dehydration. The mirror was cracked and shards lay in the sink, that could've been any of us. I noticed my knuckles were bleeding. Leaning out of the tiny bathroom I could see Laurene and Joshua were feet-to-face beside each other on the double-bed. Kevin was bunched up on the fluffy rug while Carter was on the carpet with just a sofa cushion, spread in starfish position. They slept druggedly, stirring without waking. I still felt mildly drunk. I felt my pockets for my keys, wallet and phone. After taking a long drink from the tap I slipped out and down the side of the house, walking back while my head swam in morning heat.

Once home I started to feel better by midday, my body was ready to get out and do it all over again. After getting the address I invited some other people I knew, not really caring if they'd be let in or not. When it was time to go Kevin picked me up in his brother's van. In the back was my gifted keyboard and several guitars. We picked up the others and went back to Kevin's, hopping out and helping him load the drums, mic stand and other technical equipment. Laurene snipped and started a fight over something stupid like we knew she would.

Blonde Cassie and her preppy friends were giggling as they did their makeup on the floor by the full-length mirror in the front room of her house. Sorority voices discussing drama and gossip. She'd got up to open the front door, big and white-painted with slats of frosted glass. The beachside mansion was huge, at least three vehicles sat in their garage and one was a red sports car. The girls were already drinking mojitos, a coconut and berry concoction. The wooden floorboards gleamed and the TV was wide and fitted into the wall. Even through the half-open door I could see expensive ornaments and possessions. Inside my middle I felt a jolt of pain and then envy, reminded of the two years I'd lived in my Mum's partner's mansion. The life I deserved wrongly taken from me. Instead moved to a crummy orphanage and now living alone in my squalid government housing apartment.

Cassie blinked blue eyes at the five of us, crammed on her tiny porch and holding guitars and instruments to our chests.

"Did you bring the stuff?"

Laurene smiled at her in a 'fuck you' way, presenting the bag of ketamine.

Cassie flicked her head down the side of the house "Alright, you can go set up in the backyard."

After she closed the door the giggling started up in the living room again. We made our way around the neatly-trimmed hedges by the front, another of the guys commenting again about how nice the place was. At the back was a trellis of criss-crossing slats, a back porch with comfortable chairs. Long tables were set up in the grass with an array of food, older people that were presumably Cassie's family were winding up fairy-lights and other decorations. An attractive older woman with short blonde hair and blue eyes stepped over, dressed in white with gold bangles on her wrists. Cassie's mother accompanied by an attractive, tanned older man with greying hair, her uncle. They said 'hello' and introduced themselves in a friendly manner, perfectly white smiles. Beyond them I spied the little podium typically reserved for outdoor barbecues. There was no back fence, the grass became sand and rolled out to the salty beach. Like Laurene had said the podium was surrounded by oil lamps on bamboo sticks.

With the ketamine bag hidden we set out our instruments. Going back-and-forth to the van and using teamwork to carry the heavier stuff. People were arriving at sundown, loud preppy kids from school that I'd seen but never associated with. Cassie had a few older brothers, similarly blonde and wavy-haired, one of them was helping himself to the bowl of shrimp and dipping sauce. When Carter plugged in the speakers there was a loud droning noise projected to the crowd, a few partiers covering their ears. Cassie stormed over in a full-length white dress, her hair curled.

"You're not to play until after everybody's eaten, after my family's done toasting and stuff." She instructed.

I had one drink – Laurene permitted us one drink before playing but she did so threateningly. When making my way through the crowd I found a huge vanilla cake with strawberry pieces dotted throughout, sitting on a silver stand. I stepped around it and entered the house, looking for a bathroom. The inside was hard for me to deal with, all the crystal and smooth stone, lacquered wood and fine leather. The gleam of the staircase banister, I made my way up with nary a squeak. Framed photographs of Cassie and her brothers lined the wall, chronicling their transition from frilly-bibbed toddlers to precocious children to pimply teens and then their current age. Cassie had spent her entire life sheltered in this nice home by her rich parents. She didn't deserve it. I did.

I wondered if I'd be able to kill her tonight. Somehow get her away from the party. Maybe wait until we're drinking out on the cliff-face boulders, wait for the moment when we're all cooked up on party pills, nobody looking and I can just shove her off the rocks and into the unforgiving ocean waves.