‘Elaine, this isn’t good for your baby. You need to leave.’
Mum pulls her away from me and out the front door. I hear them screaming at each other, but I don’t want to hear what they’re saying so I run upstairs and close my bedroom door. I jump on my bed and let the familiar walls close in on me.
Half an hour later, mum brings me a cup of tea. The redness around her eyes shows she’s been crying.
‘Are you alright?’ she asks.
‘I don’t think I’ll ever be alright again to be honest. Will you?’
She sits down on my bed. ‘God knows. All we can do is hope that things will get better with time. And that they find some evidence to convict Martin. At least then she’ll know you were telling the truth.’
‘Yeah, I suppose. I wish there was someone who could tell me what to do next.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’re my mum so you have to tell me things will get better with time, and that counsellor today, she just wanted to sugar coat everything. What I actually want is some proper advice from someone who can help me deal with this whole thing.’
‘Well, apparently it can take more than one attempt to find the right counsellor.’
‘Really?’
‘That’s what I read in the information pack Inspector Foster sent us. It says if you don’t feel comfortable with the first person you try, then try someone else off the list. Maybe they all have different styles of counselling.’
That gives me a spark of hope and I ask mum to bring me the list of counsellors. They’re all women except for one man, Richard Higgins.
‘Shall we try a man instead?’
‘It’s up to you, you’re the one who has to feel comfortable with whoever we pick.’
‘I think I want to try him. Would you mind ringing him now?’
Mum agrees and goes downstairs to ring him. I can hear her explaining everything that’s happened. I told her to make sure he knows everything from the outset, so that he can decide whether or not he can help me. She shouts up the stairs to me.
‘He says he’s free at two o clock today, is that too soon?’
‘No, that’s perfect.’
She confirms the booking with him. We have forty-five minutes to get ready and find where he lives.
This time, mum says she’ll wait for ten minutes before she drives away. But when Richard opens the door and shows me into a room filled with books, I get a good first impression. He only offers me water, which is fine as I’m only meant to be there for one hour.
‘So, Hannah. How can I help?’
Those are the magic words I’ve been waiting for.
‘Well, basically, I want to find a way to cope with what I’ve done. And to find a way to get over it.’
He nods his head, ‘Okay. Well, to be able to cope with what you’ve done, it might help to talk about why you did things the way you did.’
I can’t help being disappointed with having to go through the whole thing all over again. But if I can get that part out of the way, hopefully he’ll give me some coping tips. I take twenty minutes to explain almost everything that’s happened so far. I leave out the bit about Steve.
‘So, when Katie told you about her dad, did you believe her?’
I wonder how honest I can be. ‘At first, I thought she was joking, so I laughed. But when she didn’t laugh back, I knew some of it must be true.’
‘Why only some of it?’
‘Well, she was good at pretending and a bit of a drama queen. She liked to be the centre of attention. So, I guess I thought that maybe her dad had done something that she was blowing out of proportion, or dramatising.’
‘And what do you think now that he’s been arrested and denied everything?’
I try to think back to the day I killed her. Her face. She was so upset when I said we couldn’t kill her dad. She had obviously spent a long time coming up with a permanent solution to her problem, and had been so consumed with it that she’d failed to realise that it was a stupid idea, something she should only fantasise about. But she was desperate. And I suppose if she was visiting websites that told you how to do that kind of thing, it must have seemed like a real possibility to her and become normal. When I told her we couldn’t do it, I think that’s when she realised for the first time that she had to come back to reality. But reality for her was going back to her house at the end of each day and waiting for her dad to choose the right time to come and get her. No wonder she always wanted to sleep at my house. And no wonder she suffered with insomnia. I can’t imagine what it must be like lying alone in your bedroom wondering whether tonight you would be violated. How are you meant to sleep with that horror hanging over you?
‘I think she believes he abused her.’
‘That’s interesting, what do you mean by that?’
‘Just that, she sometimes made things up and then convinced herself they were true. I sometimes had to remind her that some things hadn’t really happened.’
‘She lived in a dream world, always fantasising and imagining.’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you ever thought that it could be her way of coping with abuse? To pretend she’s someone else, or somewhere else?’
No, I hadn’t thought of that. ‘I do believe she was abused, but I just have doubts. I know that’s awful.’
‘It’s how everyone else is probably feeling too. In these cases, no-one knows the truth but the people who were there. I think that the result of the police investigation will answer lots of questions for you and her family. That could be when you find you’re able to cope better and start moving on.’
Do I really have to wait that long? Kath told mum it could take more than a year to get to court.
‘This may sound like a stupid question but do you feel guilty for Katie’s death?’
I hate admitting it out loud, ‘Yes. I kind of pushed her.’
‘Not really, it sounds like you were trying to pull her to safety.’
‘I was, but it didn’t work. My ankle twisted.’
‘But you didn’t push her deliberately? You wanted to save her?’
‘Yeah, of course.’
‘So it’s not really your fault she fell. If the rock you tripped on hadn’t have been there, you would have been successful in saving her.’
‘Well, I don’t know.’
‘But you said yourself, you were pulling her towards you successfully until your ankle twisted from standing on a rock that was in the way. Therefore, it’s the rock’s fault you couldn’t pull her. The rock made your weight tip in the opposite direction.’
I know he’s speaking sense but it’s not working on me. How can I blame a rock for Katie’s death? It has to be a person’s fault. Mine or her dad’s.
‘You know, the most stupid things can get people killed. It just takes one variable to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. You really can’t keep saying you killed her, because you didn’t. You tried to save her. You were unsuccessful. That’s different to killing her. Plus, there’s the fact that at that moment in time part of her might have wanted to die, so she didn’t try to stop herself.’
He hands me a couple of tissues. I hadn’t noticed I was crying. I wish what he was saying was right. I’ll ask mum what she thinks. It would make everything easier to deal with if he’s right.
‘This is the first fact you need to accept. By breaking down everything that happened, logically, you can eliminate what was your fault and what wasn’t your fault. Do you agree that you were unsuccessful in saving her?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you did not push her on purpose?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. It’s admitting these things that will help you cope with what happened that day. So, with that out of the way, we need to deal with why you didn’t call an ambulance. Why do you think that was?’
I take a deep breath and my lungs feel grateful. ‘I wasn’t really conscious. When I think back to that day, it’s like I
blacked out or left my body. I wasn’t aware of having any options or of having to make a decision. I didn’t know she was still alive. The word ‘ambulance’ didn’t even enter my head. I just had to be with her.’
I don’t even remember getting from the top of the cliff to the bottom. I don’t remember the walk home in my wet jeans. I couldn’t tell you if I passed anyone. If I did, they must have thought I was a zombie. How did I safely cross the roads? It’s like I was sleepwalking, so I know I did it, but I don’t remember the actual event.
‘When people witness something horrific, they go into shock. While in shock, they lose the ability to think straight, to make decisions and sometimes they lose the control of their body. To me, it sounds like that’s what happened to you. Of course you couldn’t ring an ambulance; you’d just seen someone you loved die in front of you. You can’t be held accountable for what happened next. Not many adults could either.’
Could that really be true? I’ve never thought of any of it in this way before. I was trying to save her, it was an accident, so maybe I should stop saying I killed her and start saying I couldn’t help her. I can’t help but laugh to myself. Isn’t that what Mary told me this morning? That the words you use to describe something can change how you view it? Poor woman, maybe I’ll ring her to apologise. I’m going to look up the symptoms of shock on-line later. If that’s really what it does to you then it does sound like what I experienced. So maybe it wasn’t my fault that I didn’t ring an ambulance.
‘But I still went home knowing she was dead and lied to everyone about it.’
‘Well, that’s what we’ll discuss next time. But don’t worry, we’ll try to understand the reasons why. I hope you’ve found this afternoon helpful?’
He stands up. Is that really an hour gone? That went so quick. ‘Yeah, definitely. When can I come back?’
‘We usually book one appointment per week, so I’ll pencil you in for the same time next week. Let your mum know.’
One per week? But I was finding that really useful, I feel like I could carry on now. I see mum’s car pull up in the driveway as Richard opens the front door.
‘Okay. Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome. Just remember; it was an accident.’
Try telling Katie’s mum that.
Chapter 11
The next day, Wednesday, mum has to work, so I’m left alone in the house. Which I like. I don’t like going out any more. The journalists have now completely given up standing outside our house and talking to our neighbours. Mum says they’ll be back when the trial starts, but for this morning I am completely alone. I didn’t sleep at all last night, which is weird because I’ve been sleeping for eleven hours straight over the last week. Maybe I’ve finally had enough sleep. I kept thinking about what Richard said. That made me imagine what would happen if Katie’s dad admitted he abused her.
If I could make Josh and his mum believe what Richard had said, that it wasn’t my fault and I was only trying to help her, with the back-up of Josh’s dad admitting his part in it all, I might have a chance of starting everything from fresh. I might not have to move away and get a rubbish job to survive.
There are only two and a half weeks left of the school holidays. I haven’t told mum yet that I’m not going back for my last year. I don’t think she could handle that as well. Apparently, Katie’s dad is due back in court today for a bail hearing, whatever that is, so he’ll be given an opportunity to change his plea and admit everything. I can’t see him admitting it. The police are searching through the two computers that were at Katie’s house. Plus, they’ve seized DVD’s and cameras too. I hope they find something. Not just for my sake but to help Katie’s reputation too. I’m so surprised at Josh for not believing her. I don’t know what his problem with her is. She never did anything to him that I’m aware of. Maybe he just can’t face the truth because he loves his dad.
Mum said that one of the neighbours told her that Katie’s mum let their dad come back to live at the house. We couldn’t believe it! She’d rather believe that I killed Katie and then lied about Katie’s dad to get myself off the hook. Even though she’s pregnant and has the new baby to protect. Mum said that some women are too weak to stand up to their husbands and like to bury their head in the sand. I just wish Josh wasn’t living there too.
I switch on my laptop to look up the symptoms of shock. One website says that mild shock leaves you feeling stunned for a while, absorbed in your thoughts and unable to focus on anything else. That sounds like what happened to me. Although then it says that after a while the brain gets the event into perspective and normal life resumes. That hasn’t happened yet. Once I’ve looked through a few websites I lose interest. Now I don’t have Facebook and Instagram to check, the internet is boring. I try to think of what else I could look at. I remember what Katie had told me about the websites she had been looking at, the ones with advice on how to kill someone without being caught. I don’t really want to see any but I can’t really help myself. I feel guilty just typing in ‘killing websites’ into Google. I open the first website on the list and scan some of the pages. God, this is seriously sick. It says it’s a forum for swapping ideas and information about killing people. How is this allowed? Why aren’t the police sat on this site all day and trapping these murderers? I can’t stop myself though and read through some of the comments. It’s mostly people venting their frustrations and saying who they’d like to kill, if they could get away with it. I hate to think that Katie was lurking on these kinds of sites. Just then, one of the comments catches my eye.
Does anyone know what happened to #hannahsfriend? I’ve not seen her on here for ages. Just wondered how her plan was going.
Two people have replied:
Some people are all talk and no action.
Maybe she went through with it and got caught.
The username #hannahsfriend is hyperlinked, so if I click on it, it’ll take me to their blog. I really don’t want to click on it. I really hope it’s just a coincidence and that it’s a different Hannah and a different friend. I get up from my desk and run downstairs. I don’t want to open a whole new can of worms. I make myself a cup of coffee and try to think of something else. I even turn the TV on and try to watch The Big Bang Theory. But I can’t stop thinking about that horrible website. She did say she was looking at those types of websites, and even swapping information with people on them. I suppose she wouldn’t be stupid enough to use her real name. Oh God, I’m going to have to go and have a look. Otherwise I’ll never know.
I go back to my bedroom and sit down again. I click on the link before I change my mind. It brings up a blog. There’s no more detail about the blogger, just all their entries. There are loads. I wonder whether I shouldn’t read any of it, but the temptation to read someone else’s diary is just too much, whether I know them or not. I look at the date of the latest entry; 23rd July 2014, 11.07am. Shit. It’s her.
I can’t pull my eyes away. Someone in my head is screaming at me to stop reading and to just close my laptop and forget I ever found this website. But I need to know what she was writing about. I read the latest entry.
23/07/2014 – Hiya. Just a short one this time because it’s a gorgeous sunny day today and guess what I’m going to do? I’m going to show my chosen venue to my BFF. Aren’t I lucky to have someone to help me? I was reading #traumasuzy’s latest entry and felt so sad for her that she has no-one around to help. I can’t imagine not having a best friend. Not having someone to share my problems. I wouldn’t be able to bear it all on my own. She’s my partner in crime, well hopefully lol! Anyway, I need to go and put on my best summer clothes so that I don’t pale into insignificance stood next to her! I’ll write more later tonight and let you know if she likes the venue! J
I can’t breathe. I’m so happy and so sad at the same time. I’m so happy to hear her voice again, through her writing. I’m so glad I’ve stumbled across new conversations from her. It’s like she’s suddenly come back from th
e dead and is just sat at the other end of the internet. I thought I’d heard the last from her but now I have pages and pages of her innermost thoughts to read. I’m so grateful! I can’t stop crying. I’d forgotten how lovely and lively she was and how many exclamation marks she used. She’s still alive on this blog. Her personality is leaping off the screen at me. I’m sure I can smell her body spray. I almost don’t want to read it all in one go so that I can save a bit for every day and experience her being there for longer. I don’t want to reach the end of it, like when we were reading the Twilight books together and we knew it was going to have to end eventually. We were bereft for weeks. I bookmark the page and then try to limit myself to reading just a couple more entries and the comments people have posted to each one. I work backwards from her latest entry.
20/07/2014 – Last day of school today until our final year! We’re going to be adults soon! My plan is getting better by the minute and ironically, it’s because of him. He came into my room last night and made me put on a really old school uniform that was too small. Talk about clichéd, he can’t even come up with something original. Dirty old man. The rest is probably obvious and I don’t want to upset anyone. But I laid back and thought of all you people and all the advice you’ve given me. Every time he touches me, my plan gets more refined. Although it’s basic, I can see it more clearly. I’ve told my best friend bits and bobs but not everything. I don’t want to burden her with the responsibility of it. And, if I’m honest, I’m not 100% convinced she believes me. But never mind, these things are sent to try us apparently! But who’s going to try the people sending them, that’s what I want to know! Lol. #sumosteve how’s things with your uncle? You’ve not written for a while. Let me know you’re still being strong. You’re not alone dude. We’re all in this shit together. We’re not the crazy ones, they are.
The Girl Who Died: A Young Adult Novel Page 11