Darren O’Sullivan

Close Your Eyes: A gripping psychological thriller with a killer twist!


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      Mum’s voice called out from the top of the stairs, sleepy and on edge. A hint of fear bleeding through.

      ‘Mum, it’s me,’ I called up, my words slurring as the swelling in my face had begun to flare.

      ‘Daniel? Oh God, Daniel what are you doing? I thought someone was breaking in. Are you okay?’

      I didn’t know how to respond, instead I pretended I hadn’t heard her and went into the kitchen and waited, knowing she would come downstairs. When she walked in, she stepped back, covering her hand with her mouth.

      ‘Daniel, what’s happened to your face?’

      ‘Something’s happened, Mum, something terrible.’

      Mum came towards me to look at my cut, but I stepped away, I didn’t have the strength to keep my emotions in if she touched me.

      ‘Daniel, what’s happened?’

      ‘Mum, sit down.’

      She did as I asked, looking at me with tenderness and fear mixed in equal measure. I could see her holding her breath, waiting.

      ‘Mum?’ I began slowly, frightened of what I was about to ask. ‘What’s my name?’

      ‘What?’

      ‘What’s my name?’

      I saw a reaction in her. It was small but noticeable, my question had shocked her rather than confused.

      ‘Daniel, we need to get you to a doctor.’

      ‘I haven’t got time.’

      ‘What do you mean, “time”? Daniel, what’s going on?’

      ‘Mum, please, just tell me the truth, for once.’ I sounded exasperated, desperate, my voice on the verge of breaking.

      ‘I don’t understand what you’re asking.’ She looked away from me, not able to meet my gaze. I struggled to hide my shock at seeing that she knew I knew something.

      ‘Yes you do, Mum. You do, and I know it. I need you to tell me. What’s my real name?’

      ‘It’s the middle of the night, Daniel, you’re bleeding. Why does that matter?’ she asked, standing and taking a step away from me, busying herself by digging out a first-aid kit from under the sink and putting it on the table beside us.

      I couldn’t look at her, I could barely get the words out at a whisper. I felt if I said what I said next any louder I would lose the fragile composure I was keeping.

      ‘Thomas has been taken.’

      ‘What?’ She stopped and looked up at me, her mouth agape. As I spoke I did so slowly in an attempt to make it clear and hold my composure. But as the words fell from my mouth they came out as a sob.

      ‘Mum, someone’s taken my little boy.’

      ‘What do you mean? Daniel, what do you mean someone’s taken him?’ Her voice became louder, started cracking.

      ‘And Rachael. Someone’s taken Thomas and Rachael.’

      ‘Taken? What do you mean “taken”?’ She turned frantic and fidgeted, her voice high-pitched and breathy.

      ‘And they’ve told me they will hurt them unless I return something to them.’

      ‘Who’s “them”, Daniel, who?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘Daniel, you need to go to the police. Why haven’t you rung the police?’

      She stepped away to grab her phone, but I got up and stopped her, taking her firmly by the hand.

      ‘Mum, they killed Sean.’

      I watched the colour drain from her face, mirroring my own. As I spoke I did so at barely a whisper, as if by saying it quietly it might not be true.

      ‘They said if I go to the police they’ll kill them too.’

      She tried to say something but just the sound of her breath escaping came. ‘They said I have something that belongs to them. Something from the time I can’t remember.’

      Stumbling sideways, she sat down in her chair, her eyes unblinking and a million miles away from where we were.

      ‘Oh God!’

      ‘Mum, who was I?’

      ‘I thought we had left all that behind,’ she said to herself as she opened, then shut the first-aid box.

      ‘Mum?’

      She moved to put it away but stopped and then turned and placed it back on the table, her thoughts moving so fast it powered her body.

      ‘I was assured your injury would give you a clean break.’

      Grabbing a tea towel, she held it like she was about to dry up, but there were no plates on the draining board. With her back to me, she raised the towel up and buried her face into it.

      ‘Mum! A clean break? A clean break from what?’

      ‘Oh God, Daniel. I’m so sorry,’ she said through muffled fabric.

      ‘Mum, what’s my name?’

      ‘I thought, after all this time it was all behind us.’

      ‘Mum, what is my real name?’ I placed my hand on her shoulder, harder than I intended.

      She turned and looked at me, resignation in her face.

      ‘Your real name is Michael.’

      The quiet hope that this was all just some sick joke or a bad dream had been destroyed. My name is Michael. The man on the phone wasn’t lying. He wasn’t confusing me with someone else. It meant I really did have something of his.

      ‘Mum, why did you change my name?’

      ‘It’s hard to explain.’

      ‘Try, Mum, try.’ My voice rose as anger replaced my fear. ‘You’ve been lying to me for as long as I can remember and now my little boy is missing. Rachael is gone and a good man is dead. You need to stop this shit and tell me what I was involved in.’

      ‘Daniel, I don’t know how to …’

      I grabbed the chair beside me and threw it against the wall. One of the legs snapped off.

      ‘Daniel, please, you need to calm down,’ she begged.

      ‘Calm down? They said I have until Friday to give back what I took from them. Friday. I don’t even know what the fuck I took, Mum. Up until a few hours ago I was just Daniel, and now I know I’m someone else entirely, someone who took something from people who are prepared to kill to get it back. Don’t you tell me to calm down! What was I involved in, Mum?’

      ‘I don’t know.’

      ‘You must know. I don’t have that part of my life, only you do. You have to know.’

      I grabbed my mum by the shoulders and shook her. I could see fear rush into her whole body. A fear of me.

      ‘What did I take?’

      ‘I don’t know. Honestly, I don’t know. Please, Daniel, you’re scaring me.’ Tears were running down her cheeks, her eyes wide, her head tilting away from me.

      I let go and stepped away, afraid my anger towards her would result in me doing something I would instantly regret. Pacing beside the table I reiterated what had happened; Sean was dead, Rachael and Thomas were missing.

      ‘Mum, I need you to give me something. I don’t know where my boy is, I don’t know where they’ve taken my little boy. Mum, help me, please help me. Tell me something, please. I don’t care that you lied to me. I just want them back.’

      She got up to give me a hug, but I stepped away from