A memory - Dennis Banner
I remember Dennis Banner, watching me masturbate his naked daughter, my then girlfriend, on her bed. He watched from the top of the stair. It was only when that feeling of being watched hit, and I turned to see him, that we stopped. Then he came into the room, angry, silent. I passed him in the doorway. I was going into the bathroom, because I figured he wouldn't follow me in there. Also, I could lock the door. There wasn't any trouble. He just said whatever it was he had come to say - "Dinners ready in 20 minutes", whatever - and left. I wonder how long he would have watched if I hadn't have noticed him.
He was staring at me once, too, in the caravan. Their family rented a caravan for weekend breaks. I spent a lot of time there. This time, he was staring at my arm. Later on, my girlfriend said she noticed him staring. I didn't get it. She told me he had been staring at the scars on my arm, which I had forgotten about. I had carved the word "hate" into my arm, and on another occasion, into my chest. I never did it again, but it wasn't the staring that stopped me. It all seems like kids stuff to me now. Kids stuff. Playing with razors for attention.