The Suicide House

by Charlie Donlea

  Then I noticed another set of eyes. My father’s. He was staring at me. Although he never said a word, his glare told me everything he wanted me to know. Finally, he walked out of the house to ride with my mother to the hospital. Mrs. Peterson from next door talked with my father in the front yard and then walked toward my open front door. She would stay with me overnight.

  Before the front door closed, my father nodded at me. Like we were coconspirators. Like I planned to keep his secret. Like only he and I would ever know the truth about how I lost my mother. He believed he was nodding at the weak and feeble child who stared through a keyhole, too scared to leave the bedroom. But he was wrong. That child was gone. That child died when my mother was loaded into an ambulance never to return.

  My father was right about one thing, though. I never told a soul about what he did. I killed him the next day, so there was no real reason to tell anyone.

  I pulled the tassel into the crease of the spine and closed the journal. I looked up from the pages, and our eyes met. She said nothing. Usually, I sought insight when I finished reading from my journal. But after today’s session, nothing needed to be said. Our relationship was unorthodox, some might even say inappropriate. But it worked for us. It worked for me, at least. I couldn’t survive without her.

  We stared at each other, our eyes holding for a long moment. For today, that was enough.

  CHAPTER 27

  SATURDAY AFTERNOON, THE DAY AFTER THE SIX OF THEM HAD MET TO choke down warm Budweiser and discuss the mysterious invitation they had all received, Gwen sat in Gavin’s dorm room. She paged through a stack of envelopes and stopped in the middle.

  “Here’s one from your mom.”

  Gavin rolled his eyes. “She’s not my mom.”

  “Sorry, I forgot.”

  Although they’d been dating since freshman year, Gwen had never gotten the full story behind Gavin’s home life, or why his aunt and uncle had taken full custody of him. She knew that his brother had died in an accident a couple of years before and that his family had never fully healed. That’s all she’d been able to get out of Gavin. She had tried a few times to dig deeper into his life outside of Westmont Prep, but Gavin Harms never talked about his dead brother, or his family. He never talked about his aunt and uncle. That was the way he operated. Take it or leave it.

  Gwen’s inability to break through Gavin’s walls was what she usually journaled about, and was the most common topic of discussion during her sessions with Dr. Casper.

  “She refuses to communicate with me any other way,” Gavin said. “Written letters sent through the post office, that’s it.”

  “Snail mail is fun. I never get any. Can I read it?”

  “I don’t care. I know what it says. It’s the same thing she wrote last summer, which is why I haven’t opened it this year.”

  Gwen tore open the envelope and removed the single page that was folded in thirds. She cleared her throat and began talking in the overly genteel voice of a mother breaking bad news to her child.

  “Dear Gavin, I hope this letter finds you well.” Gwen looked over the top of the letter, her eyes emoji wide. “Oh my God.”

  “She’s a robot. It’s how she starts every letter to me.”

  Gwen went back to the page.

  “I hope this letter finds you well. And busy. Your latest grade report was outstanding. I am very proud of you, which is why I am writing to inform you that arrangements have been made for you to spend the summer at Westmont in their advanced studies program. This was a very hard decision for us, but we believe it gives you the best chance for achieving your goals. The program comes at a tremendous cost, both financial and emotional. You know what a challenge this is for us, but we believe it will be money well spent. Although we would love to spend the summer with you, this opportunity will give more to your future than we could provide at home. Good luck to you this summer. I’m sure we will talk soon and often. With love.”

  Gwen looked up again. She shrugged. “I mean, besides the Shawshanky opening, it was sort of nice.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Oh, save your pouting for Dr. Hanover. You know you didn’t want to go home this summer.”

  There was a pause; Gwen was nervous to ask the next question.

  “How is she? Dr. Hanover?”

  Gavin shrugged. “Fine.”

  Gwen was used to getting little out of Gavin about his therapy sessions as well. She decided not to push. Instead, she climbed onto the bed and snuggled into Gavin’s side. She kissed his neck. “It’s not all bad. You’ll be here all summer with me. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Yeah,” he said in a distracted tone. “It’s good.”

  She rolled onto her back and pulled her phone in front of her face as she laid her head on Gavin’s arm.

  “What’s the plan for tonight?” she asked.

  “Wait ’til dark, and then head out.”

  “Have you ever been out to the abandoned boarding house?”

  Gavin shook his head. “Never.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Are you?”

  Gwen turned and looked at him. “Yes.”

  CHAPTER 28

  “IF ANYBODY TOUCHES ME,” GAVIN SAID AS THEY WALKED THROUGH the dark campus, “or tries to paddle me, I’m fighting back.”

  They passed the gothic structure of the library building, the gaudy display of the school’s logo, and the spot where they stood each year on Gate Day.

  “Come on,” Gwen said. “No one’s going to paddle us. There are, like, laws against that stuff.”

  “It’s Andrew Gross and his group of goons. There’s no telling what’s waiting for us.”

  “Ignore him,” Gwen said to Theo and Danielle. “He’s been in a bad mood ever since he started seeing Dr. Hangover, who’s known—”

  “To give you a raging headache,” Danielle said, finishing Gwen’s sentence. “Why did they switch you? We’re not supposed to get assigned to Hanover until senior year.”

  “She requested he switch over to her early,” Gwen said.

  “Ha! She must think you’re really screwed up.”

  “I’m gifted, I guess,” Gavin said.

  “I don’t know what I’m going to do when they switch me,” Gwen said. “Dr. Casper knows my entire life story. There’s no way I’d tell Dr. Hanover half of what I tell Dr. Casper.”

  “You’re not supposed to tell your therapist anything,” Gavin said. “You’re supposed to tell your journal.”

  They laughed at this. Journaling was a Westmont Prep staple, and every counseling session included a segment when students were expected to read a passage from their journal.

  “Let’s all agree not to include whatever it is we’re about to do in any of our journals,” Theo said, and then pointed at a spot on the trail up ahead of them. “There it is.”

  The four of them stopped when they reached the path that disappeared into the woods. They paused, glancing around the quiet campus and surveying the dark buildings that were empty and waiting for the summer session to begin on Monday. Ground-level spotlights ignited the buildings and captured the ivy-covered exteriors in expanding triangles of brightness, while dying sunlight silhouetted the cornices and made them look like thorns of a crown sitting on the rooftops. The constant buzz of locusts filled the night, and they all allowed the background noise to occupy the silence between them.

  Finally, Theo spoke.

  “Are we waiting for Tanner and Bridget?”

  “Tanner said they were heading to Route 77 by themselves, so we’ll hook up with them there,” Gavin said.

  They all nodded at one another with nothing else to say, each feeling some level of hesitation and hoping for one of them to pull the plug on this idea. But none said another word, and they finally slipped into the woods. The path was wide and well trampled. The heavy ceiling of foliage blocked out the remnants of dusk, so they clicked on the flashlights of their cell phones to guide the way. Heading into their juni
or year, they were no longer underclassmen; they were now nearly at the top of the food chain. They had been invited to the abandoned boarding house. Although many students knew of the house’s existence, few possessed any details about what took place there. And even though just about every student had heard about The Man in the Mirror—rumors were great and exaggerated, and the folklore was legendary—few held any specifics. That was because membership into this group was exclusive, the demands of its brotherhood great, and the oath to secrecy absolute.

  As they made their way through the forest, their steps were fueled by a steady dose of trepidation and curiosity. They had only the seniors to deal with, the summer to get through, and initiation to conquer.

  CHAPTER 29

  THEY FOLLOWED THE DIRT PATH UNTIL THEY CAME TO A CLEARING THAT delivered them onto a two-lane highway they all knew was Route 77. They turned right and walked along the dark shoulder, the gravel crunching underfoot.

  “There it is,” Gwen said, pointing up ahead.

  Mile marker thirteen stood in front of them, shadowed but visible as the 1 and 3 caught the moonlight.

  “Thirteen, three, five,” Theo said when they reached the marker. “It should be a third of a mile farther now.”

  “This is freaking me out,” Danielle said.

  Gavin waved them along. “Just hurry. There’s nowhere to hide if a car comes along, and we’re past curfew.”

  In a single-file line, they fast-walked along the narrow shoulder until, about one-third of a mile past the marker, they spotted an entryway back into the woods. The bushes separated and offered a black hole into the forest. They walked down the embankment and toward the opening.

  “Boo!”

  The voice was loud and obnoxious. They all startled in retreat. The girls screamed. Then came laughter as Tanner Landing walked from the edge of the forest.

  “Tanner, you’re such a shithead,” Gwen said.

  Tanner was bent at the waist, just like the previous night, laughing and pointing at them. “You should have seen your faces. That would go viral if I had recorded it.”

  “Sorry,” Bridget said, following Tanner out of the darkness of the forest. “He thought it would be funny if we waited for you here.”

  “So funny,” Gavin said in an overly excited voice. “I’m so glad you waited for us. I’m actually so glad you’re here tonight. I’m not sure what we’d have done without you.”

  Tanner stood upright and slowly stopped laughing. “How does your girlfriend deal with your moodiness?”

  “How does yours deal with your asshole-ness?”

  This brought snickers from the others.

  “Sorry,” Gavin said to Bridget.

  “Don’t be,” she said. “He is an asshole. He just doesn’t care.”

  They headed into the woods to complete the final half mile of their journey. Under thick foliage, they followed the dirt path, trying to calculate the distance they travelled. When they reached the edge of the forest, a chain grinned between two posts and held a PRIVATE PROPERTY sign. Beyond it, the mythical boarding house came into view. It was cloaked in shadow, but from inside the house an odd, darkened glow spilled through the windows and fell onto the ground outside. Studying the windows, they realized the interior lighting was blunted by black spray paint that covered the windows.

  The building’s exterior was in the same tradition as the main campus buildings—Bedford limestone covered by ivy. But here, things were unkempt. The ivy ran wild in heavy froths around the windows and fell over itself when it reached the gutters. Multiple seasons of fallen leaves accumulated at the edges of the building and around the trunks of the trees that flanked the house. A massive oak stood in the front yard with sturdy lower branches expanding horizontally like the arms of a crucifix.

  “Now what?” Gwen asked.

  Danielle pulled up her phone and scrolled through the text messages until she came to the invitation they had each received.

  “The Man in the Mirror requests your presence at thirteen-three-five,” Danielle said, reading from her phone. “Upon arrival, proceed to the front yard and wait for further instruction.”

  “I’m not sure I want to do this,” Gwen said.

  Tanner smiled. “Oh, we’re doing this. Let’s see what all the hype is about.”

  CHAPTER 30

  THEY WALKED FROM THE EDGE OF THE FOREST AND INTO THE CLEARING in front of the boarding house. Then, together, the group passed through the opening of the wrought iron gate that surrounded the house. As soon as they made it onto the front yard, figures materialized from the darkness and slowly closed in on them. Cloaked in black hooded capes, the ghosts morphed from the shadows of the ivy that climbed the walls, poured out of the front door, and emerged like warlocks from the forest that surrounded the house. They approached quickly, and Gwen’s vision blackened when she felt a blindfold being wrapped around her face, the soft nylon tied in a knot at the back of her head.

  “This abandoned boarding house . . .” someone said from behind her.

  Gwen recognized Andrew Gross’s voice. Andrew was a Westmont Prep senior they all believed had been behind the invitation. He had long been rumored to be involved in The Man in the Mirror challenges that so many classmates gossiped about.

  “It’s not for anyone who decides to come. It’s for the chosen. You’ve all been invited to join The Man in the Mirror, a small and exclusive group at Westmont Prep. Whether you accept that invitation is still to be decided.”

  Gwen felt a hand on her elbow, which guided her through the grass and onto a gravel path. After just a few moments without vision she was disorientated to her surroundings. She stumbled down an embankment, feeling the grip on her elbow tighten to keep her upright. Finally, the hand moved from her elbow to her shoulder and forced her downward into a hard, wooden chair.

  “You’ve all heard about the Man in the Mirror and the challenges he puts forth. There will be a series of them this summer, and your first is tonight. It’s simple. Just sit where you are. That’s all. First one to get off their chair loses, and trust me, you don’t want to be a loser.”

  Gwen heard footsteps crunching over the gravel and through leaves as Andrew and the other seniors retreated. Finally, the shuffling disappeared, and all that remained was the buzz of cicadas. Finally, Gwen spoke.

  “Gavin?”

  She wasn’t sure why she was whispering, but they all followed along.

  “I’m here,” Gavin said. “I think I’m right next to you.”

  Gwen felt Gavin’s outstretched hand touch her shoulder. It startled her, and then she grabbed it and squeezed his hand.

  “This is seriously screwed up,” Theo said. “We’re supposed to sit here all night?”

  “That’s right,” Tanner said. “I’ll stay for a week if I have to. But you guys feel free to be the first to quit.”

  No one spoke.

  “Hello?” Tanner said.

  Since Gate Day freshman year, Tanner had been desperate to fit in, Gwen knew. He was a social climber, jumping from group to group, seeking acceptance and approval from anyone who offered it. That he had been included in this small group that was invited to join the much-rumored secret sect inside the Westmont Prep student body was his ticket to friendship and popularity. Gwen knew Tanner wasn’t bluffing. He would actually sit here all night if it meant that the seniors include him in their social circle.

  “Hello?” Tanner said again.

  “Tanner, just shut up,” Gavin said. “Do you think you’re capable of that?”

  Just as the words were out of Gavin’s mouth, a noise came from far off. A muted horn that disrupted the vibration of the locusts.

  “What was that?” Gwen asked. She squeezed Gavin’s hand harder.

  It came again. This time louder.

  “Should we leave?” she asked.

  “I don’t know,” Gavin said.

  Another whistle, louder still. Then a rumble. The chairs pulsated under them. Finally, they heard the chug
ging of an approaching train. With the blindfolds on and nothing but blackness in their vision, the train came from nowhere.

  “Gavin?” Gwen said.

  “Screw this,” Gavin said. “Let’s go!”

  Gwen pulled the blindfold off her face. She saw that the six of them were lined up next to train tracks, the backs of their chairs dangerously close to the rails. When she looked to her left, she saw the headlight of a train barreling toward them. She let out a scream that caused everyone in the row to pull their blindfolds down. They all stood in a max exodus, running down the embankment as the train stormed past. Tanner clipped his heel on the chair as he ran, causing it to topple backward onto the tracks. As the train sped by, the chair splintered when the train crunched over the wood and shattered it into a thousand pieces.

  They all stood in the shallow gulley as the train blurred past, breathing heavily from shock and adrenaline, ears filled by the thunder of metal on metal. A mangled piece of Tanner’s chair ricocheted off the train and came to rest at their feet. They all stared at it.

  It was June 8. Thirteen days later the slaughter would take place at the boarding house behind them.

  CHAPTER 31

  MARC MCEVOY HAD A PLAN. HE WOULD GO TO PEPPERMILL ON June 21. He would follow Route 77. He would take the route so many of his classmates talked about—13:3:5—and find the abandoned boarding house. He would do it this summer, the way he should have done it during his junior year at Westmont Prep. He should have done it back then out of defiance, to prove that the students who chose only a select few to join their clique had no more dominion over the school than did the kids they shunned. Had Marc possessed the same courage as a junior in high school that he had today, much of his anger and curiosity would have been dispelled. Instead, he was a twenty-five-year-old man still scarred by rejection and still chasing a dream of acceptance. Pursuing a need to be part of a group that had excluded him years before.

  He needed to keep his trip to Peppermill a secret. His wife could know nothing about it. He’d play it off as a business trip. He’d be gone for just one night, he’d tell her. He’d drive to the airport and park in the extended commuter lot, making sure to get a receipt. From there, he’d take the South Shore Metra Line. It was only two stops from South Bend—Hudson Lake and Carroll Avenue—before the Metra reached the shores of Lake Michigan and the town of Peppermill. His wife paid their bills, so he would have to use cash to leave no credit trail behind. Once in Peppermill, he’d have a drink at the corner bar, wait until the proper hour, and then find Route 77 and start the journey he should have taken years before. He’d finally see what the rumors were all about. He’d stay in the shadows. No one would see him. He’d be invisible.