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by Christina Kilbourne


  “Stay with me,” she begged when the bedtime story was over and I leaned past her to turn out the light. I often lay with her until she fell asleep. If I didn’t, she complained that lying flat in the darkness felt like being dead.

  “I’ll stay, but just until you to go to sleep,” I said.

  “Okay,” she agreed and moved close to the wall to make room for me.

  I lay down beside her and fought to stay awake after a long day of work.

  “Are you asleep?” she asked after a few minutes.

  “No.”

  “Okay, good. Don’t leave yet. I’m still awake,” she said in her sleepy little voice. Then she yawned.

  “I won’t leave until you go to sleep,” I promised. It was one I’d made a hundred times.

  “When I die will you still love me?” she asked suddenly.

  The question startled me but I tried to stay calm so sleep would come to her faster.

  “I’ll love you no matter what, sweetheart. But you’re going to live much longer than me.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m older than you. When I’m old like Granny, you’ll still be young and healthy.”

  “Is Granny going to die soon?” She sounded alarmed.

  “No, Granny still has a lot of life left in her.”

  “How much?”

  “Years and years. Now stop talking and go to sleep.” I couldn’t help but think of the dinner dishes that needed washing and the laundry waiting to be folded.

  “When are you going to die?” she asked. Her breath caught in her throat and I knew she was going to cry so I pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

  “I don’t know when, but not for a long time yet. I promise.”

  “What if I still need you?” she sobbed.

  “By the time I die, you won’t need me anymore.”

  Her little body shuddered and then she sighed. “I hope you won’t need me anymore by the time I die too,” she said.

  The day after the failed sleepover, she slept until noon. Part of me thought she was hiding in her room so she wouldn’t have to face me, but I didn’t hear any sounds either, even when I stopped and listened at her door. By the time I heard the shower running, I’d washed and dried her wet clothes and set her shoes out in the sun. I’d also talked to Joe.

  “I’m sure you’ll make it worse if you go in there and wake her up. She probably had a fight with Aliya and feels stupid. Just let her get up on her own,” he said over the phone.

  “Don’t you think it’s crazy though? Coming home in the middle of the night wet like that?”

  “No crazier than some of the stuff I did back then. I mean, come on. This is Anna we’re talking about. It’s actually pretty responsible of her to bail on a party because she was feeling weird about what was going on.”

  “I guess, but you should have seen her. She looked like she’d been crying and she was blue from shivering.”

  “She’d probably been wet for forty minutes by then,” Joe said. “And if she had a fight with the girls, she might have stormed off. Don’t make too much out of it.”

  “Okay, you’re right,” I agreed. But still, I didn’t feel good about letting it drop either.

  “And, Mom?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “Maybe you better not tell Dad. He’ll just get all worked up. And besides, you’ll score more points for next time if you keep her secret.”

  “Is that how you operate?” I asked.

  “Something like that.” He laughed.

  When Anna finally appeared, she acted as if nothing unusual had happened and I let the whole thing drop. But when the phone rang she tensed up.

  “It’s probably Aliya,” she muttered. “Let the machine get it. I’ll call her later.”

  I nodded and offered to make her some scrambled eggs and toast. For a change she agreed and it felt good to be needed again, as if some of the balance was restored. I put the plate of eggs in front of her and made myself leave the kitchen so I wouldn’t sit and watch her eat. It seemed as if Joe was right and she was going through the regular ups and downs of being a teenage girl.

  “You want to go to a movie tonight?” she asked later in the day.

  The suggestion surprised me, but I was happy she wanted to be with me at all. It seemed like a good way to spend some time with her, even if there wouldn’t be much chance to talk.

  Anna

  I’m still not sure what happened the night of the party. One minute I was sitting on a log drinking beer out of a red plastic cup and the next I was slipping through the forest, hoping nobody noticed me leave. When I got to the edge of the river, I sat down and watched the water ripple in the stray rays of moonlight. I was at the part of the river where the bank is steep and the river deep, on a bend where years of erosion have made it impossible to get down to the water’s edge. I’d been there many times before with Granny. It was one of our favourite sketching spots.

  I watched the river and listened to the party going on behind me in the distance, as if it was the party of another girl in another time, a girl who belonged among the laughter and dancing. Even though I knew I’d come willingly to the party, it was hard to connect myself to it. I felt disoriented, like the thread that kept me attached to the time and place of being Anna was stretched too thin and I was about to disappear completely or slip into another reality. The images in front of my eyes started to blur and I was fighting to hold on to consciousness. In that moment I wasn’t aware of thinking or breathing or of even being alive. I don’t know how long the confusion took over, but suddenly I found myself tumbling down the steep riverbank. I plunged into the river headfirst, then quickly came up fighting for air and choking on water. I couldn’t touch the bottom and the weight of my clothes started to drag me down, but I was much too good of a swimmer to let myself sink under the surface again.

  Did I jump or fall? I wondered as I frantically clawed my way to shore. I couldn’t get a good hold on the steep riverbank so I had to flow with the current until I found the one shallow place where the bank meets the water in a gradual slope. I pulled myself onto land, then into some nearby bushes to catch my breath and collect my thoughts.

  I considered calling someone for help but I was shivering so hard I could barely dial my cellphone. I quickly realized it didn’t matter though, because the phone was so waterlogged it was probably never going to dry out. Who would I call anyway? I wondered through my chattering teeth. I couldn’t very well call Mom to tromp through the bush until she found me, and I didn’t want to face Aliya or the others. Dad was in Chicago and the only other person I could think of was Joe. I knew Joe could keep a secret, but I didn’t want to have to explain to him what had happened. He might remember the day I wandered across the bridge, and get suspicious.

  I felt my jacket pocket and realized I’d also lost my flashlight. That’s when I really started to panic. My pulse was racing and my mind was flying about a million miles an hour. I needed to get home, but I wasn’t sure how. I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been away from the party. It seemed like hours but time was hard to track in the darkness and it might have only been a few minutes. I still had the emergency cash tucked into the pocket of my jeans, so at the very least I knew I could catch a cab home if I could get up to River Road. It would be tough going in wet clothes in the dark, but I was familiar with the area so it was worth a shot. Besides, I couldn’t think of anything else to do. Avoiding drunk teenagers, especially Aliya, was going to be the real challenge.

  I took a deep breath and stood up. I felt unsteady on my feet from shaking, but I hoped that once I started moving, I’d warm up. Then I heard voices coming toward me and instinctively I crouched down again. I heard Aliya call my name and saw the beam of her flashlight slice through the trees. At one point the light brushed past my cheek and I laid myself flat on the groun
d. My initial urge was to go to her, go back to the fire and get warm, but I knew I couldn’t let her see me dripping wet. She’d turn it into a huge drama. I revaluated my options and again decided my best bet was to get home and sneak into bed without waking Mom.

  Of course, my idea didn’t go off exactly as planned, but thanks to some quick thinking and good timing, I found a ride home. I also managed to keep Mom from completely freaking out when she found me sneaking into the house wet. It turns out the only witnesses to the whole ordeal were Farah and Mom and both seemed to buy into my story. Still, I thought it was best to play it low key for a few days, or even a couple of weeks, until there was a new party for everyone to get distracted by.

  I figured the biggest problem was going to be lying to Aliya, and I was right. The Monday after the party she let me know she wasn’t very happy I’d left without telling her. I acted like it was no big deal so she’d drop the whole thing, which worked for the most part. But she carried a grudge for a few weeks. She didn’t email or call and she didn’t come over to my house either. She also started spending more time at school with Kyle, which was pretty much inevitable anyway. Even though Aliya insists they’re just friends and have been since junior high, I know they have a thing for each other.

  Despite the fact I’d managed to pull off, like, the biggest lie in the world, the whole thing freaked me out — not only because I’d ended up in the river, but because I’d done it without realizing what I was doing. It was like some external force took over my body and threw me into the water. The other thing that bothered me was how strongly my body fought back. I realized I was up against more than just being afraid of heights and blood. I was up against a survival instinct, and no matter how badly I might want to escape, my body wanted to keep walking around this world. I knew that if I ever tried to kill myself for real, I’d need a foolproof plan. I’d have to choose something where there was no turning back — like jumping off a bridge. Once I jumped, theoretically speaking, my body couldn’t fight its way to safety. Of course, I knew the challenge was going to be tricking my body into thinking it was safe until the very last second. And although I had no idea what might work, I was open to suggestions, especially since my options were starting to dwindle.

  That Halloween a solution presented itself. Although I’d always found hangings creepy, the night of Halloween a boy did hang himself, from a tree on the boulevard in front of Thomas Jackson Secondary School. He was dressed in a vampire costume and the kids who arrived early thought it was a Halloween joke, like a prop from the drama room. Then someone dared someone else to go touch it. Apparently that’s when the girls started screaming and the school went berserk. Everyone in the whole city was talking about it and it was all over the news.

  “I mean, it was so random,” Aliya said at lunch a few days later. Our routine had almost returned to normal by then, and we were sitting together in the cafeteria.

  “I heard his parents didn’t have a clue anything was wrong,” Gisele added.

  Why would they? I thought. It’s so easy to live a lie. But instead of saying anything I bit into my hamburger. It was like chewing an old dog toy.

  “My cousin goes to Thomas Jackson. He said this guy was picked on every day at school. Bullied right from grade one. Then someone started a Facebook group called Make Justin’s Life Hell. There were four hundred members. People would tell him right to his face that he’d be better off dead. I guess he cracked finally,” Mariam said.

  “I know someone who goes there too. Apparently his best friend is so freaked out they’ve sedated him. Can you imagine how you’d feel if your best friend killed themselves?” Aliya said.

  I shivered. Did she look at me when she said that?

  “I guess it just goes to show you don’t know people as well as you think,” I said in a neutral tone.

  “It’s true,” Aliya said, and this time she looked at me directly. “People you think you know inside and out can have some pretty scary secrets. Like my mom. I didn’t find out until two years ago she had a sister who killed herself in high school. My whole life I never heard anyone even mention her name. Mom never talks about her. My grandparents never talk about her. There’s not a single picture of her anywhere. It’s like she’s been erased. I only found out by accident because I was snooping through one of Mom’s old high school yearbooks and saw they had the same last name.”

  The confession shocked me, but I didn’t let on. I wondered, though, why Aliya was sharing it suddenly, after more than two years. I started to worry that she was catching on to my plan.

  That afternoon during math, when the teacher was reviewing the results of a recent test, I thought about Justin, the boy who hanged himself. I stared at the teacher like I might be listening, but what I was really thinking about was how my death might affect people. I knew the immediate shock would be horrible for Mom and Dad, and even Joe. Mom would have the police at her door again and there would be stories all over the news to remind them for weeks, maybe months. Aliya might even lose it herself, especially since her mother was already overprotective and would start to hold on tighter. I thought about how Mariam would take it, and Gisele, and my teachers. I thought about Mrs. Galloway telling me I had so much potential as an artist and how she would say to her husband after that it was a waste of talent. I knew the school would be turned upside down with grief and gossip for a few days. I knew lots of people would be upset. I just didn’t think it was a good enough reason to keep me tied to them. I thought they’d be better off without me moping around all the time. I mean, Mom was slowly getting over Granny and Gramps. She’d probably get over me too. I thought of all this while the teacher droned on and on. When the day finally ended, it was a huge relief to go home.

  Aliya and I sometimes end up on the same bus home. She lives in the same direction but catches a second bus just past my stop. That day I got to the bus stop early and waited alone. When it arrived, I flashed my student card at the driver and took a seat near the back. Aliya ran on just before the doors closed. She dropped into the seat beside me and put her book bag on her knees.

  “You’re a brainiac. Did you get any of that stuff in math class?” She was breathing hard from sprinting up the street. I was annoyed she’d made it and I was going to have to talk the whole way home. I was afraid she’d want to continue the conversation about the guy from TJSS or, worse, her aunt.

  I shook my head. “Nope. It went right over my head too.”

  “Crap,” she said and slumped. “I thought for sure you’d know what was going on.”

  “I was reading something for language arts.”

  “Do you want to come over tonight and we can try and figure it out together?”

  I was surprised by the invitation. I hadn’t been to her house or had her over to my house since before the party at the forks.

  “Okay, I’ll see if Mom can drop me by after dinner.”

  The bus pulled to my stop and I waved back to Aliya before I jumped off. I crossed the street and cut through the park. There was a mother with two children playing on the swings. She was giving them underdogs and pretending to catch their feet. I stood and stared because suddenly I realized the swing set would be the perfect place. I sat down on a nearby bench to think it through. I didn’t know much about tying ropes, but I figured I could manage a few simple knots.

  It might be the perfect way to fool myself, I thought. I’d been on swings since I was a child so my body wouldn’t know to be afraid until it was too late.

  A few minutes later the mother rounded up her kids and left the park. I was probably creeping her out. I wondered what she’d think if she found out a girl committed suicide on the very same swing set. But then I pushed it from my mind. I had enough to worry about without taking complete strangers into consideration.

  Even before I went inside to let Sherlock out for a pee, I opened the garage door. Dad’s a borderline hoarder so I was su
re he’d have something. I snooped through crates and boxes until I found what I was looking for: a practice rope. On the way to Aliya’s, I thought I could try making a noose, just as an experiment. Then I’d be ready when I needed an escape hatch.

  After dinner was finished and the dishes done, I told Mom I was going over to Aliya’s.

  “Neither of us understood a thing in math today. We thought we might try and figure it out together.”

  “That’s fine sweetie. Do you want a ride?”

  “I’m okay taking the bus, and her mom’s going to drop me back.”

  I went to my room and got my backpack. I emptied it except for my math books and slung it over my shoulder. I left my cellphone on my bed. I didn’t want any distractions.

  Before I headed to the park I stopped at the garage. I tucked the rope into my backpack, then closed the garage door as quietly as I could so Sherlock wouldn’t start barking. Luckily for me, it was drizzling. That meant even the dog walkers wouldn’t venture too far into the park. I’d have enough time to try making a noose and still catch the bus before Aliya started to worry.

  I walked past the park to be sure it was empty, then circled back and hid in the shadows while I rigged the knots. It took a couple of throws before I got the rope over the top bar of the swing set, but as soon as I did, I pulled it tight. When I finished I stepped back to assess my effort. The loop was hanging at least seven feet off the ground. That meant, even if I stretched, my toes wouldn’t be able to touch. I pulled hard on the rope and the knots held. I picked up my feet and let myself swing back and forth and, again, the knots held. I felt an odd mix of pride and hope because for the first time it seemed like I had a solid plan.

  As a test, I stepped up onto one of the swings and steadied myself, then hooked the noose with my free arm. It can’t hurt just to go through the motions, I thought, as I flipped it quickly over my head. My hands started to shake and my heart was racing so I knew my body was getting ready to rebel. I’ll take it off in a second, I thought to myself. But I willed myself to stand silently for a moment so I’d get used to the feeling of having the rope around my neck.

 

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