'being Sian' - The Old Man

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‘Being Sian’ The Old Man I was very lonely. A feeling of panic would rise and I would be thinking terrible thoughts, of what I was doing and the consequences of leaving home. How would I assert my independence with mother? Would she ever accept it? She was constantly pressuring me about it, trying to make me feel guilty, persuading me to ‘Drop everything and come home.’ I didn’t mind asserting myself, but I didn’t know what I was fighting for. This independence was scary. I had nobody, and I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t want a plan. I was too tired to think. So when a seedy old man from the hostel offered for me to come with him today, I agreed. I didn’t like him or trust him; he was dirty, like a tramp, with a sly look in his eye. He never made eye contact. I followed him from bus to train, not asking any questions, just bored out of my mind with nothing to do. At least it was getting me out of the hostel for a day. He ended up in a little park, a tiny one actually, near the main road of some place in South London that I’d never been to before. I think it was near Peckham, but I paid no attention to road signs, lost in the little depressed world inside my head. He swung his beer can to his mouth several times. I figured I was ‘safe’ enough here with him, he could hardly rape me in broad daylight, could he? I refused the offer of a swig from his lukewarm, can of beer, but accepted what he gave me next. I didn’t even question what it was- I took it, a small little pill with a funny taste. He said nothing as he handed them over. I thought that was strange, because people in hostels are never generous with pills, drugs, alcohol... they fight over them.

3 But my head was getting nice and numb now, I stopped thinking, and kept popping them, one after another. Well, he just kept handing them to me. It suited me to escape my pain. After a while I couldn’t seem to talk clearly. Not that I tried, because he wasn’t much into conversation. I just had trouble with my lips; they were thick and heavy, like whale skin. I really couldn’t speak properly, and gave up. He gave up too. I think he saw how bad I was getting, and decided to leave me there to rot. He mumbled something quickly and shuffled away. I didn’t feel like chasing him. Instead, I wandered along to the nearest train station I could find. I felt okay actually, considering the amount of pills I had swallowed, and not knowing what they were. I remember standing along the platform waiting to board the train. The noise was making my head feel clouded and heavy, and the bustle of people was a bit much to take, but I managed to get on the train. I saw a girl looking over at me with a concerned look on her face, and wondered why. I stayed on for a few more stops till I recognized a place, and got off. I felt a bit queasy. My head was starting to feel like a concrete block had hit it. Suddenly, out of nowhere, my head collapsed into a black fog. I was blind. I couldn’t see; even worse, I couldn’t hear! I sank quickly against the curved wall of the Underground, not knowing what I was going to do next. I felt embarrassed, helpless and conspicuous, knowing everyone could see me and was wondering. I couldn’t stay here. Moments between the fog gave me split seconds where I could make out grey shadows, and work my way up the escalators, like a half blind man without a stick, living on instincts and guessing. As soon as I reached the moving steps, I realised I wouldn’t make it. I couldn’t judge where the step was to mount it, and I was getting in everyone’s way, I could hear their impatient mutters around me. I gave up and sank to the floor on the left. It hurt my eyes to keep them open; so I didn’t. “Are you okay there?” I heard a young woman’s voice.

4 I looked up in surprise; she was the first one to care. I opened my eyes to respond to her. I could hardly see; everything was dark grey. Her shape stood out from the murky background because she stood so close. She looked small and polite, like someone who worked in an office. Black hair in a bob, with a fringe- she could have been Chinese, with a British accent. I felt I should make an effort to answer her, to reward her concern, but I wasn’t able. All I could hear was a groan. I think she alerted Security then, because it all seemed to be taken over from that point, and the nice lady vanished. I heard a male voice, horribly loud and assertive, in my ear. “Can you hear me? What’s your name?” He was waking me up, I didn’t like it. As for my name, I didn’t feel sociable enough to tell him. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone? I was too exhausted to explain it to him- it didn’t work with that Chinese lady. “I need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?” In between annoying me, he shouted over to his colleague. I noticed he used a completely different voice for him; a normal tone for a normal person. I felt like a child. It was similar to the condescending manner used for kids, or stupid people. I felt insulted. He was a God compared to what came along next. I was handed over to the Ambulance staff, two men and the Bitch. The two men were lovely; considerate and caring, polite. Everything that the Bitch wasn’t! The two men lifted me up from either side, one arm each. They asked me if I was okay. I mumbled something back, and the Bitch flipped. “Oh come on, stop play acting.” She snapped. “You don’t need two arms held. You’re not that bad.”

5 I was shocked. She actually made one of the men drop my arm. I couldn’t believe it. It was actually harder for me now, to get up the stairs with less support. It must have been harder for the guy too, as I leaned on him harder. I always wondered what her problem was, or why she hated me so much. The worse thing was, I couldn’t see her nasty face well enough to memorise it. She will always be the faceless Bitch who attacked me for no reason. ‘Kick a man when he’s down’ would summarise it; I don’t know why she was working for the Ambulance service at all. Apparently I spent a long time unconscious, two or three days. I still don’t know what the pills were, but they gave me a nice sleep anyway, some escapism. I remember waking up in a panic during the first twelve hours of it, feeling parched with thirst. I was on an operating table, with a nurse standing over me, in a small room. She wouldn’t give me any water. Another Bitch. “Am I going to die?” I asked her, scared and confused. “I don’t know.” She smiled, serene and calm. “We’ll have to wait and find out!” I couldn’t believe it. The Bitches were crawling out of the woodwork today, and I was the local Bitch Magnet. I gave up and fell asleep. I woke up some time later in another panic. My mother would panic. I nearly missed my daily pager message to her. I fished it out of my bag; my arm slumped over the edge of the narrow bed, swinging like a limp monkey. In the message, I admitted that I was in hospital, and pressed send. At least that particular bitch would shut up for a few hours; at least she had got her daily dose of control. I dreaded her coming to see me though. I just wasn’t able for her.

6 When she arrived, she was all in hysterics, (about herself, not me) how she was inconvenienced: ‘I was in a panic, not knowing where you were’, etc. etc. Yet, she didn’t back up her claims of concern with any caring questions about my welfare at all. I just wanted her to go, and stop pestering me with high pitched accusations. She was ‘doing my head in’. She was always in a panic, whether it was an emergency or not, and if there were no problems, she’d invent them, just to pass the time. Whereas I had a life to live, I was sick of her games. Fortunately, she had to leave after a few hours of torment, because visiting hours were over. I was truly glad to see the back of her. I drifted back into a grateful slumber. Hours later, it might even have been the next day- I woke up to find my knickers wet and a sticky feeling in between my legs. My period had decided to inconvenience me with its arrival, now of all times. It annoyed me, because I didn’t have anything to ‘use’, and I lacked the energy to ask the Bitch nurse, who would probably be sarcastic about it. Fuck this. I decided to abscond. I gathered all the strength I had, about a half ounce, and tried to stand up. I wobbled. Not to be deterred, I carried on towards the ward entrance. I passed it, even though my vision was starting to go dim again. The effort I made was gigantic, I got to the main elevator lobby. Visitors were looking at me strangely. I realised that to ‘get away with it’ I’d have to be wearing my proper clothes; but this was just a ‘test run’ to see if I could do it first. I couldn’t. I just felt so ill, I could hardly make it back to my hospital bed. I really felt defeated. More sleep was my only escape now. I would need it for mother’s visit soon. This came sooner than I thought. Her sharp voice and staring eyes burned into me all over again; I couldn’t take any more of this hell. I decided to use her presence to my advantage. I needed her help to leave. This she was happy to do, because it meant she had something to do and wouldn’t be bored, fretting away in her own world inside her head.

7 After much convincing to the nasty nurse, I was free to go. We got my things together, and I fought off the dizzy spells as much as I could. I leaned on her so heavily on the way out, that she almost fell over. On her suggestion, we went to MacDonald’s. Afterwards, because I had no choice and it made sense at the time, we went to her flat. After two days of recovery, I couldn’t bear my mother around me, so later I went back to the hostel for some peace. I had plenty of time to recover from my accidental overdose, and never saw that seedy tramp man again. I had bolted back to the hostel as soon as I could, for fear of going nuts in my mother’s place. And recover I did; I felt well enough to get up to my usual technique of letting men into my bed. Loneliness again was driving me to seek their company, and if this meant taking advantage of me sexually, then that was better than nothing. What I was good at is casting my fears aside, and sleeping with every man who offered. This was a lot. I craved affection, and so I accepted their attentions willingly. I needed their approval. I only got that during the time my legs were open- afterwards I was back to being a ‘nobody’. Today Dan asked me to into his room. I agreed because I was bored, and this offer meant that I was appealing to men, and worth something, even if it was a cheap shag. Straight away he gave me an ecstasy tablet. He broke it in half first (which I thought was mean of him) and offered it to me. I took it from his hand automatically, thinking, ‘Well it’s for free, and it might get me high’. I wanted to feel good. Next, I was on his bed. I didn’t mind. I felt that some attention from a man would make me feel wanted. On top of the covers, he climbed in next to me, writhing over my body. I felt nothing. He grew hot, and out of breath, and I felt as if I wasn’t even there, that he could have been having an out of body experience by himself. I felt no sexual arousal whatsoever. I can’t even remember whether he entered me, or if he ‘came’. I know I didn’t, and was glad when it was over.

8 I was also disappointed in the ecstasy tablet. It had no effect on me either. I felt no different, and I wondered whether this was because he only gave me half. This experience seemed to be happening more and more lately, meeting men from time to time, freezing up, allowing them to ‘have their way’. I thought it was a shame that I could never enjoy it myself. I wondered if they could sense it, and whether it affected their enjoyment. Of course, Dan wasn’t the only guy I let close to me. I didn’t object too much to Andrew. He was a young guy from Birmingham, about twenty three, blond and okay looking. I met him on the street, snuggled inside a sleeping bag next to a shop. I struck up conversation as it was raining hard and I felt sorry for him. Sorry enough to offer my hostel room for the night. He was so grateful, it was unbelievable. He dried his sleeping bag over the radiator and we got into bed, snuggling and chatting for hours till we fell asleep. Nothing really happened, a bit of ‘messing around’ but we both couldn’t be bothered, and I was glad. I just wanted company really, and it was nice to be treated like a normal human being, a bit more like a sibling, than a lover. This gave me comfort. I never saw him again, but I know I made a difference to his life that night.

copyright@emmasharn2009