I was reaching above my head to pull the rope off when I lost my balance. The swing shifted backward and my feet tilted forward. My heart started pounding. I fought to steady myself, but instead my body pitched forward until my feet were no longer standing on anything. Part of me couldn’t believe what I’d done. I felt a surge of hope.
The hopeful disbelief soon gave way to panic though when the rope squeezed my throat. I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs, yet my brain was still processing thoughts. I saw images of the police finding my body, then knocking on the door and handing Mom and Dad my math books. I wondered if I’d regret dying.
The place where the rope circled my neck burned like fire and licks of pain ripped down my spine, but somehow I was still wheezing enough oxygen into my lungs to stay alive. My eyes teared up and I gasped over and over. Then I heard voices in the darkness and the adrenalin kicked in. More than anything I didn’t want to be caught. I saw myself locked in a mental ward wearing a hospital gown and fear took over. I reached above my head and pulled up with all my strength. I kicked wildly at the same time. That’s when I bumped the swing with my leg. I twisted my body and stepped back up on it. I clawed the noose loose and sucked back a huge lungful of air. Then I pulled the rope completely off my neck and fell to the dirt below.
I panted and wiped the tears off my cheeks. I wasn’t crying exactly. It was a physical reaction more than an emotional one. Or maybe it was the frustration leaking out of me. I held my breath and glanced around. Two people were walking across the far side of the park. From the silhouette of their clothes I could tell they were wearing baggy jeans and ball caps. When they got closer my heart sputtered. It was Ray and Sam.
What the hell are they doing in my neighbourhood, walking in the rain? I wondered bitterly.
I grabbed my backpack and scurried into the shadows of the nearby trees. I thought I was going to throw up, but I took a steadying breath and controlled the urge.
“Hey, is that a noose?” I heard Ray say.
I hoped it wasn’t still swinging or they’d know I was close by.
“Check it out,” Sam said.
The park went silent and I knew they were looking around.
I breathed as quietly as I could and pinned my back to the tree trunk. I felt as trapped as a dead beetle in a glass case.
Please don’t let them find me here, I prayed.
“It’s probably a prank because of that guy at TJSS,” Ray said.
“Yeah, who’d be stupid enough to off themselves here?”
“I don’t even think this rope would be strong enough to hang someone. Look how stretchy it is!”
Their comments stung like lemon juice on a paper cut. If only I’d rolled myself off the bridge when I had the chance. Then I wouldn’t be tormenting myself like this. Then I would already be free.
“You got your phone? Maybe we should call the police.”
I think it was Sam talking. He was nothing like Kyle. He was the kind of guy who whistled at girls from across the street, the kind of guy who’d spill beer on you at a party and laugh instead of apologize. Kyle, he was different. He was the kind of guy you’d want to take home to your parents, if you were lucky enough.
“What time is it?” Sam asked. “We better keep track of the time.”
“Five after eight,” Ray said.
I rubbed my neck, then wiped the dirt off my jeans. It had been less than twenty minutes since I left the house and I knew I needed to get out of there fast, before the police showed up. While the boys looked up the number, I slung my backpack over my shoulder and sprinted through the trees as fast as my aching neck would let me. I got all the way home before I remembered I was supposed to be on my way to Aliya’s.
“Anna? Is that you?” Mom came to the front door. Sherlock followed and licked the raindrops off my shoes.
I ducked down into my hoodie. “Yeah, it’s me,” I said. “It started raining.”
“Your sweater’s all wet. You better go change. Oh, and Aliya just called. She said you weren’t answering your phone and wanted to make sure you’d left. What happened?”
“I got halfway there and realized I forgot my math books and my phone.” I kicked off my shoes. “I’ll go call her.”
It took a lot of control not to run to my bedroom. I closed the door gently, then slumped to the floor and dropped my head on my knees. I’d almost done exactly what I didn’t want to do. I was afraid to wonder how much further it was to the bottom.
Aliya called back before I’d collected myself enough to call her. Mom knocked on my bedroom door.
“Sweetie, it’s for you. Aliya again.”
“Got it, thanks!” I called out in what was meant to be my most carefree teenaged-girl voice. “Hey, Aliya. Sorry. I forgot my phone and my math books and by the time I caught a bus home, it was close to eight-thirty. Mom didn’t want me going back out.”
“You could have used my books,” Aliya said irritably. I almost didn’t blame her for sounding so pissed.
“Sorry, I didn’t think it would take so long and I did some problems after school I thought might help us.”
“Whatever. I thought your mom was going to drive you over?” Aliya said.
I took a deep breath. I was getting sloppy with my lies.
“She got home late. I’m sorry. I made a mess of your night. You want to meet in the morning?”
“I guess. Library at eight?”
“See you then,” I said.
“Don’t forget your math books this time.”
“I won’t.” I managed to laugh, but it burned my throat.
It hadn’t even been an hour and I could tell the noose was going to leave a nasty bruise around my neck. There was already a red ring under my chin and it hurt to swallow. I climbed into my pajamas and pulled my bathrobe high around my neck. Then I went to the washroom to take something for the headache that was starting to pound inside my skull.
If I thought I felt hollow before I’d almost hanged myself I was being a bigger suck than Sherlock during a thunderstorm, because when I lay down on my bed it felt like my entire being had dropped out of me. I used to think I didn’t belong and that was why being alive felt so uncomfortable, but it was way beyond that. I might have been able to live with the loneliness of not belonging, but being dead inside made me ache to complete the process.
I stared up at the ceiling and listened to the sounds of the house. I heard Dad laugh at something on the TV and Mom bang the kitchen cupboards. Soon I heard the microwave beeping and smelled the aroma of popcorn drifting down the hall. Sherlock was whining at my door but I didn’t get up to let him in. Instead, I rolled over and turned off my bedroom light. Even if I didn’t fall asleep for hours, I wouldn’t have to risk talking to Mom or Dad or having Joe find me on Facebook.
The next morning I was already in the library when Aliya walked in.
“You’ll never guess what happened!” she said.
I was sitting at a table in the back corner with my math books open. I was exhausted from not sleeping most of the night, but I tried to act energetic.
“What?”
“The police were at the park this morning. They had it blocked off with yellow tape and everything.”
A zap of electricity shot up my spine.
“What park?”
“The one at the end of your street.”
I tried not to react but I felt like throwing up. “Why?”
“I dunno. The bus driver said they found someone hanging there this morning.”
“Dead?” I said. I didn’t even have to fake my alarm. I mean, what if Sam and Ray didn’t call the police and some kid accidentally hung himself on my rope? I hadn’t meant to leave it there. My stomach heaved again.
Aliya shrugged. “I don’t know. It sure is creepy though. Two hangings in one week. Mom’s going to frea
k. Whenever she hears anything about suicide she loses it. And it’s been like thirty years since her sister died.”
I fiddled with the scarf at my neck. “I’m glad I didn’t see it.”
Aliya and I worked through a few math problems but it was hard to concentrate. I’d taken three painkillers but I could still feel my skull vibrating and the skin on my neck burning.
“What’s up with the scarf anyway?” she finally asked.
“I woke up with a sore throat,” I said.
“You’re not trying to hide something, are you?”
She leaned over and tried to move the scarf with her finger, but I batted her hand away.
“Hands off.”
“Did you ditch me for a boy last night? Maybe a boy named Kyle?” she teased.
I had no choice but to play along, so I smiled mysteriously. “You’ll never know.” But we both knew there was no way I’d ever end up with someone like Kyle and I wished for once that she’d just admit she was into him.
All day long rumours swirled around about what had been swinging on the end of that noose. Gisele said she heard it had been a dog. Mariam said her cousin texted her and told her it was a copycat hanging and the person was dressed like a vampire. Tyson said some gang had strung up a rival gang member as a warning to stay off their turf. Hearing all that nonsense was a relief because I knew if there was no real news then the police had simply taken down my empty noose.
It wasn’t until the end of the day that I was completely relieved though. As I was walking home, I saw Sam and Ray surrounded by a gang of kids at the front of their school. My first instinct was to run away, but I knew that would look suspicious. So instead, I forced myself to stop, join the group, and listen.
“It was just hanging there, nothing was in it,” Ray said.
“Did you see anyone?”
“No, the park was totally empty. We looked around but didn’t see a thing,” Sam said.
Kyle was in the crowd. I moved behind someone’s head so he wouldn’t see me.
“Maybe they ran off when you came along,” someone suggested.
“I think it was just a prank,” Ray said.
“But the police still came to check it out,” Sam added.
“YOU called the police?” someone asked.
“Yeah. They took our names and asked some questions then they drove us home.”
“Bet it won’t be your last time in a cruiser,” someone yelled, and everyone laughed.
When the crowd started to break up, I attached myself to a couple of other kids and drifted away. All I wanted was to get to my bedroom and be alone. By then my entire body was aching. It felt like I’d been in a car accident.
The first thing I did when I got home was take a long hot shower. Then I climbed into bed. I told Mom I thought I was coming down with the flu and stayed in my room for the next five days. I drank cough syrup and sucked throat lozenges just to make it look good. And when Mom brought me soft-boiled eggs and cups of hot soup, I smiled as gratefully as I could. But when she left, I fed them to Sherlock. For five days straight I ached to cry and fell deeper into the hole that was supposed to be my soul.
Aliya
This was one of the all-time creepiest weeks of my life. Seriously, it was like living in some freaky Blair Witch Project movie, with everyone going crazy for killing themselves suddenly. It all started with a guy at Thomas Jackson Secondary School. Everyone is saying that his suicide had to do with Halloween, like Halloween is a jinx. But that’s ridiculous because I don’t remember any other Halloweens when people decided to kill themselves in front of their schools.
I never gave it much thought before I found out about my aunt, but the last couple of days I’ve been trying to understand why someone would kill themselves. Apparently this guy was literally tormented to death by the kids at TJSS. Still, I can’t imagine things being so bad I’d want to, like, never exist anymore. Sure it sucks being picked on all the time. Kids can be incredibly cruel and girls are the worst. I know from experience.
You know those girls who hate you for being something they aren’t? In grade five the “in” girls stopped talking to me after our first art class. I was new that year and should have known better than to try too hard, but I sketched a picture of a baby giraffe and the art teacher went all giggly on me. She gushed about my fantastic eye and incredible attention to detail and, what’s worse, she did it in front of everyone. I just thought it was a cute giraffe, but as soon as she started twittering like an excited bird, I saw trouble ahead.
Kira, the ringleader of the fashionistas, started scowling before class was even over. By lunch she’d publicly announced I had terrible taste in clothes and I should do something — anything — with my hair. By final bell, she’d found out I lived with just my mother and had spread the rumour that my father was a drunk, which is a complete lie.
It wasn’t my fault I was good at art and I didn’t do a single thing to make her hate me. It’s not like I hated her because she was a fast runner or an Einstein at math. But Kira didn’t like anyone doing anything better than she could. She made everyone stop talking to me and I mean everyone. By Christmas I had to play with the grade three kids because nobody in grade four or five would even look at me. There was one girl, Grace, who wanted to be my friend, I think. She was a lot nicer to me when Kira wasn’t around anyway. I saw her at the YMCA one Saturday.
“I think you’re a really good drawer,” she said in the change room. We’d both just finished our swimming lessons.
“Thanks,” I said.
“I wish I could draw like that.”
“I’m sure you have some other talent,” I offered.
“I play the piano. I’m in a recital next week!”
“That’s cool.” For the first time in weeks I was starting to feel hopeful about finally making a friend at school.
“Please don’t tell Kira,” she said sheepishly, as an afterthought.
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
“Is your dad really an alcoholic?”
“No. Kira just makes up lies about me. I never even met my father before.”
“I didn’t think so. She did that to another girl last year.”
“What happened to her?”
“I don’t know. She never came back after Christmas.”
My heart plummeted, but I pulled it back up into my chest and took a steadying breath.
“Do you want to come over to our apartment sometime?”
“I don’t think so,” Grace said apologetically. “I’d like to, but if Kira ever found out I couldn’t stand it.”
I nodded and dried my hair, but I didn’t say anything more. What was there to say? Grace finished putting on her clothes and slipped out of the change room. That was the beginning and the end of my friendship with Grace. We never spoke again. I didn’t blame her, not even then. I mean, who’d want to associate with the school outcast? It just wasn’t worth the risk. But it didn’t make my life any easier either, knowing I’d almost had a friend.
Because of Kira, I was banned from using certain hallways or bathrooms in the school. If I did, watch out! The tormenting stepped up. I cried every day that year and it was the longest ten months of my life. Mom was ready to pull me from school altogether. But I got through it and when I got to junior high everything turned around. That horrible girl went to a different school and my classmates, even ones from my middle school who’d been part of the torment, started thinking I was cool because I was good at drawing cartoons of them. I’d take a sketchpad outside at lunch and draw a different person every day. I had kids lining up and buying me chocolate bars to draw them next. I mean, how crazy is that? I didn’t change at all or do anything different, but everything around me changed.
I feel terrible for the guy who hanged himself. He’s going to miss the rest of his life. Maybe he was having a tough
year. Maybe he was facing another three years of torment, and I know that sounds like forever, but it would have ended. It always ends. Or it did for me anyway. I wonder if he can see how he’s turned the city upside down and if he wishes he could change the ending to his life.
Mostly though, I’ve been thinking about his family. Can you imagine what it would be like if someone you loved killed themselves? I heard from my friend that he has a little sister. Think about how messed up she’s going to be for the rest of her life. Just like my mom. Even though she doesn’t realize it, Mom’s still getting over her sister’s suicide. I mean, I’m almost seventeen and she refuses to let me go to parties or sleepovers. She says she doesn’t mean to suffocate me, but if I’m ten minutes late getting home from school she has that panicked look on her face. It breaks my heart to see her get so stressed out. But I hate it too. I sort of hate my aunt for putting my mom through this, even though I never even met the lady before. She was dead before I came along.
It seems like such a waste to kill yourself. Even if everyone in the whole school told me to go kill myself the way they did to him, I still wouldn’t. Maybe I’m just too stubborn. Anyhow, as if that guy’s suicide wasn’t creepy enough and the only thing everyone was talking about, a few nights later there was a copycat attempt in a park that I pass on my way to school. The police said someone probably got interrupted and that they’re likely to try again sometime. One day at school I told Kyle that if I could just find that person I’d handcuff myself to them until they changed their mind.
“Do you have handcuffs?” he asked. I could tell he was in the mood to be a smartass. Sometimes he’s really sweet and sensitive, but sometimes he just likes to make jokes about everything, and I thought this was one of those times.
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