by Tom Kavanagh
“Exactly.”
“But if I wasn’t being forced . . . I mean, if I wasn’t taking my medication, how did I get sick?”
“It really was just a simple case of the flu, coupled with dehydration. Exactly what the doctor told you when you were first admitted to the hospital.”
“So you weren’t secretly feeding me pills,” I asked my Dad, trying to get to the bottom of all my paranoid thoughts.
“Of course not, Isabelle. I told you that I trusted you.”
“I guess you shouldn’t have trusted me . . .”
“I guess not . . .”
There was a short, silent, and above all else, awkward pause. Dad cleared his throat, and then turned towards me, catching my eye.
“But that doesn’t mean I won’t trust you again.”
Relief spread through my body, causing all my muscles to relax.
“Doctor, could we have a minute alone?”
“Of course. I need to go and sort out your prescription anyway.”
“Thank you.”
Dad waited for the door to click shut and then turned towards me. His eyes were full of emotion, and more depth than I’d seen in a while.
“Isabelle, you know that I’ve always had trouble understanding your problems. But this was something else.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s never been that bad before.”
“I just can’t believe how far it escalated. Did you really think the people trying to help you were the ones trying to hurt you? That we had all been taken over or replaced or whatever it was?”
“I did at the time. I believed a lot of things at the time. That’s the problem. It always feels so real. It feels as real as this chair or this office. But I don’t anymore. I know that you were just trying to help.”
He grabbed my hand and squeezed it tight.
“I think they’re gone. Don’t you?” Dad said.
“Yeah,” I agreed as the tears began to fall from my eyes “I think they’re gone.”
And I don’t think that they’re coming back.
Acknowledgements
I haven’t ever been one to add acknowledgements to the ends of my books, as I always try to add a short sentence in the beginning to show my thanks to my friends, family, and illustrators who work tirelessly to make my story turn into something visually attractive. But as this is my fourth book, I just wanted to take a moment to say my thanks, however meagre they may sound, in regard to the actions of the people I’m thanking.
Firstly and most importantly, I would like to thank my family for their constant support. I’ve been very open and honest about my mental health problems, but I haven’t always been vocal about the support system I’ve been lucky enough to be surrounded with. Both my mum and dad have been supportive of me since day one, from the very beginning of my problems, all the way to the present day. They’ve been there on my dark days, putting up with my tears and constant anxious questions. My brother was a rock during my first bout of serious depression. He would sit up with me until I felt ready to go to sleep, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Also my friends, those who knew of my problems, were extremely helpful and also played a part in my recovery.
As I said at the start of this book, I would also like to thank my wonderful friends Joe and Gabe. They have both played a huge and equally unique part in my life, and I don’t know whether I would be the same person I am without knowing them. They are also both extremely talented writers, so you might just see some stuff from them in the coming months and years. I’ll certainly be shouting about it!
And a thank you must go to the illustrators who have designed each book cover. They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but I certainly wouldn’t mind people judging each of my books by their covers. Murray and Laura were able to create beautiful and unique illustrations, and it makes me happy to see my stories held within such stunning pieces of work.
Finally, I would just like to thank all of those who have downloaded my books, bought physical copies, or have just spread the word through social media. Every copy sold brings me a bit of confidence and helps me to carry on when I don’t feel I can or that I should. It really does make a tremendous amount of difference. I hope to carry on writing for a long time to come, and so support, both financial and mental, will help me to do this.
I also hope that you enjoyed reading this book. If you did, I would always be grateful and interested to hear your comments, either as a review or just a quick email! This also includes any criticisms you have, as they help us to grow as writers.
Until my next book, stay safe, stay brave, but more importantly, stay here.
Excerpts from Previous Releases
Quiet Boy
“Hi, my name’s Quiet Boy. I’m not going to tell you my name because it would be giving up my secret identity, so for now you can call me Quiet Boy, or QB for short. I don’t have any special powers or an exciting superhero story. But I wanted to write this all down. And that’s what I’m going to do. So here it goes . . .”
QB is a young boy crippled with social anxiety. He finds talking to people incredibly difficult, and his parents are desperate to help him. In an attempt to make him better, his parents sign him up to a “special” camp. He instantly refuses, but is then persuaded by his granddad to go. Quiet Boy follows QB’s letters to his granddad over the four weeks he spends at camp, and his journey into the new and terrifying world of talking!
RE: Help
“My name’s Katie. I’m fifteen years old. I have a dog. He’s called Sparky. And I think I’m depressed. That’s all for now. I don’t really feel like talking anymore today. I just thought you might be able to help me . . .”
Katie is a teenage girl battling depression after her closest friend commits suicide. She’s obsessed with finding the reason for her friend’s death and is hopeful that the same won’t happen to her. Follow Katie’s story as she finds her way through sadness, teenage life, parties, and everything in between.
We Were Here, on the Pale Blue Dot
“This is going to be a sad story. This is going to be a happy story. This is going to be a long story. This story is just a set of random atoms, but that’s the thing about stories: you never quite know where the atoms will go. My name is William Butler, and this is a story of chasing a star.”
William is a socially awkward young boy. He loves science and space, so much so that he forgot what was happening down on earth. And then he meets “the girl with no name,” and his life gets changed for the better. But then an event occurs that can’t be explained, driving him to do things he never thought that he would.
