End of the Road: An anthology

by Wendy Dranfield

  End of the Road

  By Wendy Dranfield

  Text Copyright © 2015 Wendy Dranfield

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Contents

  Table of Contents

  Blue

  End of the Road

  Delusion

  For I Have Sinned

  Winter

  Until the Ghosts Come

  Familiarity

  Weather the Storm

  Shiver

  Blue

  Her eyes are staring at me, but there’s no life in them anymore. Her skin is already starting to change colour. All that blood escaping from the side of her head is ruining her clean hair. She’s so pretty. She doesn’t have any spots at all. She looks like she’s trying to out-stare me.

  ‘First one to blink loses.’

  The sound of my own voice startles me. I don’t know how long I’ve been sat here. Looking around reassures me no-one saw what happened. The field we’re in is empty, well, apart from that black and white horse and what’s left of the old hospital building. The long grass and bushy trees are almost hiding us in this ditch. That’s half the problem; if I’d have known this ditch was here and filled with bricks, nails and broken glass, I wouldn’t have tripped her up. It was supposed to be a laugh. We always do stuff like this; we always push each other over and have a laugh, but not to be mean.

  I look back at my best friend, who I’ve killed. She’s still looking at me. Her surprised expression doesn’t change but her eyes seem to be looking right through me now, like I’m not here. I’m not sure how to pass the time until I wake up. Surely this is where the dream will end? Or…am I awake? Things like this don’t happen in real life so I can’t be. I wonder if I’m shaking in my bed as much as I am in this dream. Maybe I fell asleep in my dressing gown and overheated; that always gives me nightmares. Katie will laugh when I tell her about this one!

  I look back at her lovely, familiar face. She’s my partner in crime. We have the same obsession with clothes, shoes, hair and make-up. The blood has spread to the front of her head now so that her cheek is pressed into it. She looks like she put on too much liquid blusher this morning. Her lips are going blue. I can’t stop myself from reaching out to touch her blood. Surely this is what will wake me up? It’s warm. Katie’s blood is warm. I shouldn’t be able to feel that in a dream.

  ‘Katie, please wake up! Stop it! Let’s go to your house and get some help? Please Katie, wake up!’

  My sobs wake all the birds who were sleeping in the trees above us. I barely feel my bladder letting go. Even though the sun is hot, I’m freezing cold and I can’t stop shuddering. I can’t handle this. It’s not real. It can’t be. I collapse next to Katie. Hopefully we’ll wake up together.

  Oh thank God! Mum’s not back from work yet; her car isn’t in the driveway. I fall into the porch and let myself in. It feels weird being at home. The air feels different. I stumble up the stairs towards the bathroom like a piss-head. I need to get out of these disgusting, damp jeans. I fill the bath to the top and sink in. The hot water tries to trick me into believing I’m not evil. No bubble bath today; not for a murderer. I wonder if they have baths in prison? My stomach flips with dread as I remember the jokes I’ve heard about prison shower scenes. No, they don’t have baths in prison. I suppose it’s a luxury item. My mind wonders until I run out of random thoughts. It feels like time has stopped. It takes a minute for me to realise I’m still in the bath and my friend is still dead.

  ‘Oh God! I can’t believe this!’

  The tears start again. Katie’s in that abandoned field, completely alone, while I’m in this safe hot bath. I feel so bad. We went out to have fun, not to get into trouble. I didn’t even want to go to the old hospital so it shouldn’t be my fault. Katie practically begged me to go.

  ‘Oh go on, you know that’s where Justin and Patrick hang out!’

  ‘No! I told you I don’t fancy Justin anymore. He’s a loser for kissing that slag.’

  ‘Well I still fancy Patrick so we’re going! I can’t go alone; I’ll look sad and desperate.’

  I laughed at that. She would have looked desperate going alone. Not that they were even there anyway. My smile feels wrong; it’s taking more muscles than usual to hold it. Oh God! I can’t tell Katie’s parents she’s hurt, they will literally kill me. I wonder if mum would help me out somehow if I told her what happened. But she’ll be so disgusted with me. If she tells the police they’ll arrest me. Oh God, I’m terrified. My whole body is trembling again. When I move, I realise the bath water is going cold. Although, not as cold as Katie will feel if she stays in that field all night. Every time I think of it I get a stabbing pain in my chest. I wonder what time her parents will start worrying about her and realise she’s not coming home. She told me they agreed she can stay out until eleven tonight because it’s the start of the school holidays.

  ‘Cool or what? We can go to the park to see if Justin and Patrick are having another piss-up tonight.’

  ‘You’re such a stalker!’ I laughed. ‘I don’t even know if I can stay out that late yet. I’ll ask when I go in for dinner.’

  ‘Okay, but point out how we’re almost sixteen now, and its light until gone ten, and we’ll be close by, and -,’

  ‘Okay, okay! You’re forgetting that I’m already a genius at emotionally bribing my mum!’

  ‘Yeah, you always were a good liar.’

  ‘Piss off! At least I don’t love High School Musical!’

  My eyes are squeezed shut so tightly that I can see a million tiny lights in the blackness. I’ve got to sort my face out; it feels so crumpled. I climb out of the bath and rub the steam off the mirror. My reflection shows how sorry I am. My eyes and nose are bright red. The mascara Katie put on me earlier is smeared all down my cheeks. It’s supposed to be waterproof. My forehead is wrinkled and my mouth is holding back more sobs. I have no choice but to let them out while I clean my face with make-up remover. Remembering that women always splash cold water over their faces in movies when upset, I copy them. After minutes of clutching the sink and sobbing, I stand up straight and check my reflection again. Seeing myself makes it all more real. It was as if I was watching a horror film before. I look so tired and emotional. Then again, maybe that could work for me? Maybe I could close my curtains, get into bed and leave a note for mum telling her I’m not feeling very well? Then she won’t notice I’ve been crying. And, when they realise Katie’s not coming home, I could say that I wasn’t with her so I don’t know where she is. Anything that gets me off the hook is worth a try, surely? This tiny speck of hope moves my body into action. Mum is due home any minute, so I put my pyjamas on, push the wet jeans under my bed and put a note on the fridge: Mum, I’ve got another migraine so I came home early. Gone to bed. I’ll come down when I feel better. No dinner thanks. Feel sick.

  I have to fight the urge to write how Katie is dead in a ditch because I tripped her up, and how desperately I need my mum to hug me and to protect me from the police and Katie’s family, and how I’m going to need counselling to block out Katie’s dead face from my mind. I fight back yet more tears as I use a fridge magnet to pin the note on the fridge. That sounds like mum’s car pulling up in the driveway. I use my last bit of energy to climb the stairs. I close my curtains and jump into bed, pulling the blanket up over my head.

  Katie’s about to fall head first onto glass, so I grab her arm and pull her towards me as hard as I can, away from danger. She falls on me so hard that I’m winded. Her long, hi-lighted hair and numerous necklaces cover my face.

  ‘I always knew you were a lesbian!’ She laughs as she struggles to get off me, ‘Any excuse to get me on
top of you!’

  The relief of hearing my best friend’s voice again makes me cry. Something she finds hilarious. Then we both hear a phone ring. But it’s not one of our ringtones. Suddenly, I feel like I’m going to puke. I sit up in bed trying to figure out what was real and what was a dream. My hands are clammy and my pyjamas are damp with sweat. My brain won’t work quick enough. Did I dream Katie died? Or did I dream I saved her? Slowly, the awful truth hits me like a football to the head. As I reach for my bedside light and check under my bed for the damp jeans, I realise that I didn’t save her at all. I killed her. The phone we heard was the landline. Mum’s talking to someone. Now she’s running up the stairs. I look at my clock; twenty to midnight. Her parents must really be starting to worry. My stomach flips with dread and I can’t breathe in deep enough to get any air. Oh God! I’m about to be found out. Mum gently knocks at my door.

  ‘Hannah? Are you awake?’

  I’m not fast enough to get under the covers and pretend to be asleep. She comes towards me looking worried.

  ‘How are you feeling, love?’

  ‘A bit weird,’ even my voice is shaking, ‘I think the phone woke me.’

  ‘Yeah, that was Katie’s mum.’

  Shit! How do I not scream?

  ‘Katie hasn’t arrived home yet. Do you know where she’s been today? Have you had any texts off her?’

  I slowly reach for my mobile to pretend to check it. If I do have a text from Katie it will be one telling me to burn in hell for leaving her. My Zac Efron background seems so childish now.

  ‘No; no texts. I haven’t seen her today.’

  ‘Oh? I thought that’s where you were headed when you left after lunch?’

  ‘Yeah but my vision went blurred so I knew I was getting a migraine. I came home pretty soon after I left. I must’ve just missed you leaving for work.’

  ‘Oh, okay. I’ll let Katie’s mum know. She’s probably just late. You kids don’t think about the worry you cause us!’

  I pretend to smile but my hands are clenched under my blanket.

  ‘You look ever so tired. Has your migraine gone yet?’

  ‘Yeah the headache’s gone. But now I feel rubbish for sleeping through the afternoon.’

  ‘Okay, well, I’m going to bed now. There’s some food in the fridge you can warm up if you’re hungry.’

  ‘No, I’m not hungry so I’m going back to sleep; I’m knackered.’

  ‘Alright then. I’ll see you in the morning.’

  Thank God she’s leaving, I can stop pretending now. I hate lying to her; I’m sure she can tell. When she’s gone, something makes me want to ring Katie’s mobile. It’ll be in her jeans pocket. Maybe she’s woken up and needs help but can’t move enough to walk. If I ring her she might be able to answer and tell me she’s alive. I select her number from my ‘last called’ list and ring it. My heart is beating so loud that I can hear a vein in my head pumping. My phone rings out. As I wait, I feel like I’m close to her. Her phone is in her pocket and I’m making it light up and ring. It’s like I’m touching her. Warm tears accumulate at my chin and drip onto my blanket. I wish I’d stayed with her. I wish I’d died too. I don’t deserve to live. I can’t believe I left her there!

  ‘Katie speaking.’

  OH MY GOD! My stomach lurches into my lungs!

  ‘Katie?’

  ‘Hah! Fooled you! Only leave a message if you’re good looking! Bye!’

  I switch my mobile off and collapse back onto my pillows. She scared the hell out of me; I genuinely thought she had answered. Shaken, I close my eyes and try to slow my breathing down. She really is gone. I can’t believe this is happening to me. Thoughts of death stop me from sleeping.

  After a long night of broken sleep I manage to stay in bed until nine a.m. Knowing it’s time to face the music, I force myself out of bed, put on my dressing gown and slowly walk down the stairs, into the kitchen. I skipped dinner last night so my stomach is churning for breakfast, even though I have no appetite. Mum looks at me with a really awful expression on her face.

  ‘Hannah, come here.’

  I walk over to stand in front of her. She’s sat on one of the dining room chairs. ‘Katie didn’t go home last night. And, well, a girl’s body has been found at the old hospital by someone walking their dog early this morning.’ Her voice cracks, ‘They think it might be Katie.’

  I burst into tears and only just make it onto the other dining room chair before I collapse. Mum mistakes my tears for grief. I suppose they are a bit, but they’re definitely more guilt and fear of what will happen to me if anyone finds out I left Katie there. I’m almost falling off the chair because of how badly my body is shaking.

  ‘Oh Hannah, let it all out. You’ll be okay. Her mum and dad are on their way to, well, check if it’s her or not. I just hope to God it’s not.’

  Mum starts to cry. She watched Katie and I make friends at primary school, when she was a teaching assistant there. She knows how close we are. Or do I have to say ‘were’ now? I hate myself so much. I’ve caused all this. But please don’t let me get caught.

  Now we’re just waiting for that call confirming the body is Katie’s. I can’t bear to be sat with mum while she waits. I need to think. I leave her downstairs while I use the internet in my bedroom. Staring at Google isn’t helping me decide what to search for. Murder? Solicitors? Young Offender Institutes? My fingers take over and type ‘accidental killing’. There are thousands of links on the subject. Hopefully that means I’m not alone. I click on the ‘accidental killing definition’; ‘a death caused by a lawful act done under the reasonable belief that no harm was likely to result.’ Is tripping someone over a ‘lawful act’? Reading all this is making me shake again. I want to be checking my Facebook account and scouring eBay for designer bargains; not searching for laws on murder. I can’t think about this now. I switch off the computer, lie on my bed and stare through the ceiling.

  ‘Why didn’t you help me?’

  ‘What the?!’

  Shit, oh shit! That was Katie’s voice right next to my ear! She’s here in my room! If I see her I’ll die!

  ‘No!’

  I cover my face with my hands while every hair on my body stands up and my skin covers itself in goose bumps. This is my worst nightmare! My breathing won’t slow down. I can’t breathe in properly. Oh God, now I’m panicking and I can’t breathe at all.

  ‘Mum!’ I can’t even shout loud enough, ‘MUM!’ I can hear her running up the stairs.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  My tears and gulping must give it away because she flings her arms around me and sits next to me on the bed.

  ‘Slow your breathing down. Take deeper breaths.’

  This makes me worse because I can’t even speak to explain that I can’t take in any air at all.

  The room is spinning. I feel like I’m going to fall over. This lasts a few seconds while I try to work out what I’m doing. Maybe I’ve already fallen, because I’m on my back. Eventually the room stops and mum comes into view.

  ‘You’re alright love, you passed out for a minute there but you’ll be fine.’

  I stare at her but I can’t form any words because I feel so dizzy and weird. What was I doing before and how long was I out? Then I remember Katie’s voice and frantically look around the room.

  ‘How do you feel now? No, stay flat to get some blood back into your head.’

  ‘I’m confused.’

  ‘I know; it’s horrible passing out. You might’ve had a panic attack. Just try to relax your breathing.’

  The landline starts ringing. We both hesitate before mum slowly helps me sit up. She runs to her bedroom to pick up her extension. It’s weird, but everything is now happening in slow motion. I walk to her doorway just as she puts the phone down. She won’t look at me at first. Then she comes over to me and pushes my shoulders down to make me sit on her bed.

  ‘I’m so sorry love. It is Katie.’

  She’s crying her ey
es out. It’s weird but, although I’m shaking and I feel really light headed – I still haven’t eaten – I feel so relieved that she’s been found and her parents know where she is now, without me having to tell them. There are no tears and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to pass out again.

  ‘How did she die?’

  Mum tries to pull herself together.

  ‘She tripped over. Onto something sharp. That bloody hospital building should be bulldozed, or they should have security guards up there, stopping kids from getting in. That’s the council’s fault. I hope Katie’s parents sue the bastards!’

  ‘How did Katie’s mum sound?’

  ‘That wasn’t her I spoke to; it was Katie’s uncle who’s at the hospital with them.’

  Then she adds something I really don’t want to hear.

  ‘But I could hear Elaine in the background. She was almost howling.’

  Mum’s tears get worse. She hugs me really tight.

  ‘I shouldn’t say this, but I’m so glad you didn’t go out with her yesterday.’

  Hearing this makes me feel even more guilty and then the tears start again. It’s such a relief to cry with mum, instead of on my own. I just hope she stands by me if I get found out. Then she drops a bombshell.

  ‘Her uncle said the police are on their way now to come and speak to you.’

  My heart almost explodes right out of my chest. I hear a loud clang in my head.

  ‘What? Why me?’

  ‘Because you know her better than anyone. They’ll just want to see if you know anything about why she was there and whether she was meeting anyone, I suppose. Thinking about it, it seems unlikely she would’ve gone there alone.’

  My mind starts racing for things I might’ve missed. Did anyone see us together yesterday? Was there anyone watching us climb over the gates? Shit, did anyone come and feed that horse while we were there? My shaking gets worse as I realise I might have to admit what I did. But I’ve left it so late now that it’ll look so much worse to admit I didn’t tell anyone straight away. I can’t believe I’m going to prison! Shit, I can feel my stomach trying to make me puke. Then I remember; my hair! I was wearing it in a ponytail while I was out, but it was already down when I got in the bath. My hair bobble must’ve fallen out somewhere! Can’t they trace DNA by just one strand of hair? I’m sure that was on CSI last week. Mum would recognise that it was my blue hair bobble if the police find it. Shit! I did lie down next to her; it could’ve come out then!