“Before your parents met at the Christmas party they probably never spoke to each other and when they did, they most likely realised how much they had in common and grew to love each other. It happens.”
Am I really the reason Lily was broken? Why she walked into the lake that night? When I was in room thirteen and I asked her why she was still here, she shoved me and said it was all because of me. Now I understood what she meant. If not for me, my dad most probably would not have ended their relationship. Lily would not still be here, haunting room thirteen, waiting for someone to see her. Even though she saw everything, nobody ever saw her. Just like me, she was invisible.
A voice inside my head said, Together we could be invincible.
7
As we walked down the stairs away from the library, Oliver asked, “Are you going to phone and ask your mum?”
I shrugged. “They’re on a retreat somewhere. No phones allowed.”
As we approached the large, imposing building, I looked up at all the neatly spaced, square windows and my eye caught the little gargoyles on top of the roof looking down at the garden in front of the building. The pathway to the doors had a neatly trimmed hedge on both sides.
He walked with me to the front door. “We could’ve gone into the city to watch a movie maybe, or go have a bite to eat that doesn’t resemble mass production but I have a rugby match this afternoon.” He gave me a hopeful look.
It sounded like an invitation, but I said, “I’m a little tired, but maybe I’ll see you there.” I smiled and nudged his shoulder. “See if you have any talent or if you’re just wasting your time.”
He chuckled and pushed his hands into his jeans pockets.
I took a step closer to the door. “So I’ll see you later?”
He nodded his head, turned around and walked away.
I walked up to my room and lay down on my bed. I was not sure if I actually fell asleep but after laying on my bed staring up at the ceiling for a really long time images started playing on the matte white paint above me.
Lily's large eyes looked haunting in the centre of soft pink eye-shadow and up close, her white skin seemed to give off its own luminescent glow. Her blonde hair was ruffled by the wind blowing over the surface of the lake.
She was wearing a long, white, old-fashioned night gown and the light from the full moon silhouetted her legs through the material which hung to her ankles.
The mist on the lake swirled toward her as she walked closer to the water and the large grey boarding house loomed behind her, while the gargoyles on the roof seemed to be focused on her movements.
At the edge of the lake, where the wind was making small ripples on the surface of the water, creating tiny waves, she stopped for a moment.
She started pacing and ranting, “I guess he just didn’t love me enough. One and one makes three.”
Then, the mist embraced her and welcomed her to a refuge of lost souls. It coaxed her to take another step and then another. I watched her walk into the water until she disappeared in the mist.
The image faded and I stretched lazily.
Sunlight was filtering through my window and the sky was a deep azure blue. The earlier grey clouds from this morning had all rushed away to go and spread their dreariness somewhere else.
Deciding fresh air and being social would probably do me good, I got ready to go to Oliver’s game. I was sure most of the girls were already there and that was why the boarding house was so quiet.
To the side of the boarding house, there was a clump of trees and I decided to take a shortcut through the little forest to the other side where the boy's school’s sports fields started.
It was so quiet I could hear the birds tweeting in the tree tops and far-off I could hear a crowd cheering. I hoped it was Oliver who scored a try.
I walked a little faster to get there quicker and then I heard a sob. My head spun in that direction, and I recognised Belinda, who stayed in the room opposite me.
Instead of walking on and ignoring them, something compelled me to duck behind a tree and to watch them.
Barry was leaning against a tree trunk, with his hands in his pockets, while Belinda was standing in front of him.
Belinda pouted. “You said you loved me.”
The boy smiled. “I meant it.” He reached for her.
“I can’t, Barry,” she said.
He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. “I care very much about you.”
Then they kissed.
Belinda pulled away from him, “Does Zelda kiss as good as I do?”
“I wouldn't know,” he said while holding her face between the palms of his hands.
Barry dropped his one hand and cupped her breast over her T-shirt.
Quickly she reached up and took his hand off her breast, shaking her head.
“Belinda...”
“Somebody'll see.”
“No, they won't. They’re all at that lame game.” He lifted the edge of her T-shirt and slowly glided his hand up her waist.
When Belinda opened her mouth to protest, he sealed her lips with a kiss.
In a husky whisper, she murmured, “Somebody's going to see us, Barry.”
“Come on, Belinda,” he begged.
“I’m not comfortable doing it here.”
“I need you so much, Belinda,” he said as he unhooked her bra.
They were so oblivious, so lost in their passionate kiss their eyes were closed and perspiration streaked their flushed skin until…
I stood up from the ground and rubbed the dust off my jeans. Then, my hands were pressed against my temples and my throat was filled with silent screams of terror. It looked like a vandal had come along and thrown red paint everywhere. Drops of red goo were dripping from the tips of leaves. Barry’s throat was slashed and Belinda’s bloody body laid sprawled across him.
I must have blanked off from shock.
I turned on my heels and ran as fast as I could back to the boarding house and back to my room. Phoning the police was not an option. They would think it was suspicious if I was the first one on the murder scene again. Instead of asking me a few questions, they would probably arrest me and I would be locked up in jail. If they asked me questions, I would be unable to answer them, which would make me look even more guilty. All I remember was feeling bad for watching them, feeling rage built up in me until it exploded and then nothing.
8
In the middle of the night, my eyes opened and at the side of my bedroom window, I saw a shadow move but then I turned over to my other side and went back to sleep.
I was walking up a set of stairs, moving down a dark upstairs hallway and into a room. Standing in the centre of the room, I looked at a photo of my dad and Lily on the bedside table, the same photo from the year book, only this time my dad had not been cropped out. My eyes looked toward the bed and there was someone sitting right there in the dark.
I backed away until my back was pressed against the cold wall behind me and the shadow on the bed stood, stepping closer to me.
“What are you doing?” I heard my mum’s voice.
My dad answered, “I sneaked in. The door was unlocked, so...”
“Fine, but why are you in Lily’s room?”
“Guess I wanted to just be here for a minute. I still can’t believe she would do that… Walk into the lake like that.”
“That’s hers?” My mum asked pointing at the Ouija board lying on the bed. “Did you ever play with her?”
“No. I thought maybe I could use it to say sorry...”
My mum sounded shocked. “That’s why you’re here? You were going to try to talk to Lily?”
“I keep hearing this voice in my head,” my dad said. “One and one makes three. What does it mean?”
My mum’s eyes stayed focused on the board. “Do you think she’s still here?”
“When I came in I thought I felt something.”
“Felt what?”
“I can
’t explain it. Something.”
My mum traded a worried look with my dad. “Do you think she’s trying to tell you something?”
“I don’t know, Dianne,” my dad said with a sigh. “I feel really guilty, though.”
There was a creaking noise in the room and they fell silent, listening.
Suddenly the photo frame of Lily and my dad on the bedside table fell to the floor with a loud shattering noise.
My dad leapt closer to my mum and wrapped her in his arms protectively.
“What was that?” My mum asked with a tremor of fear in her voice.
My dad held his hand up to silence her, he was trying to hear something. He said, “I am sorry, Lily. I never meant for any of this to happen.”
My mum pushed him away from her and hissed, “Are you serious, Roger? You never meant to fall in love with me, never meant to have this baby growing in my belly?”
There was no answer.
It was as if even the room was waiting for his reply.
My dad said, “Lily, I know you’re here. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“She can’t be here, she’s dead,” my mum insisted.
“Then how do you explain this feeling, the photo on the floor?” He pointed to a corner. “There’s someone there.”
“Where?” My mum squinted in the darkened room trying to see what my dad was pointing at.
“There.” My dad kept his finger pointed at the corner as my mum reached for the light switch beside her.
The lamp light flickered on, erasing all the shadows in the room and the corner was empty.
My dad turned to look at me. “I’m worried about you.”
The incessant noise of my alarm clock woke me and I leapt from the bed not even awake yet.
Two hours later, girls dressed for Phys Ed streamed from the locker room. I left the room last, trailing behind because I did not want to listen to them either discussing Shannon’s death or the coming Spring break weekend. It seemed nobody had found Barry and Belinda’s bodies yet, but I was starting to think it was all just a crazy dream.
I headed out to the P.E. field and I could feel the weak Spring sun trying to warm my shoulders.
“Alison?”
I turned to see Oliver hiding behind a large shrub to the side and after making sure Mrs Hawkins was preoccupied with the other girls, I slipped off the pathway and approached him. “Why are you here?”
Oliver looked uneasy. “I’m worried about you.”
“You could have sent me a text instead of coming here. You’re going to get us both in trouble.”
“You haven’t given me your number yet.” He gave me a sheepish grin.
“Give me your phone,” I said holding my hand out to him.
He gave me his phone and I added my number to his contact list.
“Have you heard anything else about Shannon,” he asked when I handed his phone back to him.
“Nothing. I saw the police here again this morning, so they are investigating it and I’m sure they’ll find the killer soon enough.”
“I haven’t slept since the dance, and I keep thinking there’s a psycho killer on the loose.”
I chuckled. “Watch a lot of horrors, do you?”
For the first time, it dawned on me that none of the girls was afraid. It was being treated as just a random murder when we are supposed to be protected behind high walls and security gates, a lake at the back of the building and a tiny forest of trees to the side. The setting was so established it was hard to believe someone had been murdered or were able to enter the premises to commit murder. I asked, “You think someone at the dance did it?”
He shrugged his shoulders and admitted, “It had to be one of us.”
“Evan said it couldn’t have been a girl, so it must be someone from the boys’ school, right?”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “It makes me nervous, knowing there’s a murderer lurking around.” He turned away from me and I could see it was because he was trying to hide his emotions from me.
“Did you really date Shannon?” I asked him. If he did, it must have affected him more than I had realised. “So you must have liked her, you know… More than friends?”
“We hung out a few times, but I never thought there could be more between us than just friendship. She was always fun to be with.”
“We had a minute of silence for her in assembly this morning, you?”
He nodded his head.
“They told us her memorial will be after the Spring break, will you go?” I asked.
“I guess. I wonder if we’ll still go camping this weekend and if we don’t, what are we expected to do?”
“We could just go home for the break, you know, like normal kids,” I suggested.
He shook his head. “Spring break’s only a few days long and the majority of the students here don’t go home when the break is so short. After the property was damaged ten years ago by bored students, the school board and the parents’ association arranged camping activities or excursions to the city or abroad. Most times, we only go home for the three week Christmas break and the months of Summer holiday.”
I was surprised, but, to be honest, it was foreseen that since being abandoned at boarding school I would hardly ever see my mother again. Obviously, she would not see me, at all, but that goes without saying.
“Does everyone go camping this weekend?” I asked.
“Yeah. There’s a separate camp for each year group, but boys and girls in the same year group go together, under very strict supervision.” He smiled and I saw the crest of his cheeks turn a shade of pink.
“Where are these camps? I hope at least it won’t be boring.”
“Here at school,” he said.
“What? That sounds super boring.”
He laughed softly. “Yeah. There are camps around the lake.”
“Alison!” Mrs Hawkins’ voice shouted from the field.
Oliver said hurriedly, “She’s probably thinking you got murdered now.”
“I should go. See you this weekend?”
He agreed with a nod. “I came to tell you to be careful. Stay safe.”
“I will. You too.” I turned away from him and ran back to the field and Mrs Hawkins whose voice was now calling my name in a shrill, panicked scream.
That afternoon, I had a scheduled appointment with Dr Smithers in his office. He wanted to make sure I was not psychologically damaged after finding Shannon’s dead body. However, I was sure he did not care about my mental health and it was school policy to evaluate all the students after a traumatic experience.
We sat across from each other for almost ten minutes in total silence as he waited for me to say something, and I was waiting for him to say something. He was a short man of Asian descent. His eyebrows were large and black, and I was fascinated by the way they almost met in the middle. It was the first time I had ever met someone with a uni-brow.
I got a fright when he started talking, “I arrived on Friday night, just as you were leaving the hall and even though I called your name, you continued walking away. However, I noticed you seemed disassociated from the situation and your lack of emotion at this moment indicates the same. I believe you had what we call a psychogenic blackout.”
He explained, “A psychogenic blackout can be difficult to diagnose. Most often it occurs in young adults as a result of stress or anxiety.”
I nodded my head. If it was so difficult to diagnose, how come he labelled me with it so fast?
He continued, “It is an involuntary reaction of the brain to alleviate distress and sometimes they are a reaction to a horrific experience you have not been able to come to terms with.”
Let me count the many ways. I continued to stare at him. Without me even saying a word, he had figured me out.
He asked, “How often are you experiencing these attacks? They tend to be numerous, often occurring several times a day, or at the same time each day.”
“I don’t know,” I said. �
�Is this serious? Can I die from it?”
He smiled without showing any teeth. “No, it is not life threatening when treated, but it is likely that there is a temporary problem with the way your brain is working. Your brain may become overloaded with information and shut down for a short while when faced with some kind of threatening feeling, situation, thought or memory.”
“What am I supposed to do about it?”
“I’d like your permission to contact your parents and then maybe you and I can meet once a week. Is that okay with you, Alison?”
I sighed and rubbed my palms over my eyes. “I guess.”
“Sometimes the first attacks are related to an upsetting or frightening experience, or some other great loss or change and I would like to help you work through these issues.”
9
After dinner, Rachel approached me and pulled me gently by the arm into the courtyard to the side of the dining hall.
I glanced around, suddenly feeling isolated with just the two of us, out of view of the other students who were still eating or had gone up to their rooms. “I have homework,” I told her. “I should go.”
She took a step closer to me. “Alison, what do you think Lily is trying to tell you?”
“Nothing…”
“After you came out of that room, I noticed straight away you were different. You are acting strange and then that message on the cubicle wall next to Shannon...”
“How do you know about that?”
“I know someone who knows someone who works at Constable Fraser’s house and you know how people never see the help, so she’s overheard some stories...”
“Like what?”
“Like your dad is the one who broke Lily’s heart and left her for your rich, snobbish mother.”
“So? What’s it to you?” Why was this happening to me? How many people knew? Was I now forever linked to the reason why Lily killed herself?
“So,” she said sarcastically. “I put two and two together and realised that message on the cubicle wall was for you, and I was wondering what it meant?”
“I really don’t know what it means.”
The Girl in Room Thirteen Page 4
