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by Christina Kilbourne


  “No, I don’t have handcuffs,” I said as I closed my locker. “It was just a figure of speech. But if I knew someone was thinking about killing themselves, I wouldn’t leave their side for a single second until I’d made them realize life is full of too much possibility to throw it all away. And I’d make them come and talk to my mom about what it’s like to be left behind, to lose someone you depended on being there for the rest of your life.”

  “I think if someone is determined to do themselves in they’re going to find a way, no matter how hard you try to save them,” Kyle said.

  The bell went and everyone scattered to their classes.

  “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” I said. “Some people just need to know they aren’t alone.”

  I knew we had to finish our conversation quick or some teacher was going to see us in the hall and yell at us for not being in class. Still, what we were talking about was important.

  “I think it’s more complicated than that. Sometimes there’s mental illness involved.”

  “What, are you, like, a suicide expert or something?” I asked.

  “No. But sometimes on the news you hear about people killing themselves and they’re, like, sick, in their heads.”

  “Could you ever kill yourself?” I asked as I glanced up and down the empty hall.

  Kyle shook his head. “Not in a million years. Living is way too much fun. What about you?”

  “Nope. Definitely not. Even if I was miserable I wouldn’t be able to hurt the people I love. Think about it. If someone you love dies in an accident or gets cancer, that’s one thing. It’s sad, but there’s nothing you can really do about it. But having someone you love take themselves away from you on purpose — you wouldn’t know whether to feel sad or just downright pissed at them, and you’d always think there was something you should have done differently.”

  We saw the principal at the far end of the hall and she was heading our way. Her heels clicked on the tile floor.

  “I gotta run. See you after school,” Kyle said and sprinted in the opposite direction. I slipped around the corner and headed to my class too.

  That night I took the bus home alone. Anna had been away sick for a few days. In fact, she’d been away since the day after she ditched me instead of coming over to work on our math together. It had been an emotional week and I was tired from not sleeping well. Every time I started to fall asleep, I’d see that guy from TJSS in a vampire costume hanging in front of his school, only as I got closer, I’d see Anna’s face under the makeup. Then I’d startle and find my body covered in goosebumps. It seemed like a totally random image at first, but then it sort of made sense — maybe Anna tried to hang herself! I mean, stay with me here. Her grandparents were both killed in a freak accident less than two years ago, she’s been moody lately, and she lives just down the street from the park where they found the noose hanging.

  I hate to admit it, but I actually thought about calling the police. I mean, what if she was about to hang herself but got scared? I even went so far as to look up the tip line on the Internet, but then I couldn’t go through with it. I know I have a crazy imagination and sometimes it takes control of me. I couldn’t send the police over to Anna’s house because she’s been moody, ditched me one night, and missed a few days of school. If I was wrong, I wouldn’t be able to face her ever again. Besides, it’s totally insane to suspect Anna of wanting to kill herself. Anna has everything going for her. She’s smart, pretty, and she’s an awesome painter. To tell the truth, she’s the first kid I ever met who could draw better than me. She lives in a rich neighbourhood and her parents still like each other, even though they’ve been married since high school or something. I doubt she’s ever been teased, like, not even once. Everyone wants to be friends with Anna, especially Kyle. And Kyle is a total catch. He’s definitely worth sticking around for.

  I tried to put the thought completely out of my mind, but the next day at school my big mouth blurted it out.

  “Do you think Anna’s okay? I’m kind of worried about her?”

  “She has the flu. I texted her last night to find out where she’s been,” Mariam said.

  We were sitting at our regular table in the cafeteria, in the corner by the doors that lead to our part of the school.

  “Besides the flu. Don’t you think she’s been acting a little odd lately,” I said. I lowered my voice so the kids at the nearby tables couldn’t hear me, which means Gisele and Mariam had to lean in close to hear above the noise.

  “What are you getting at?” Gisele asked.

  “I was just thinking about that copycat noose. It was in the park just down the street from Anna’s house, and it was the same night she was supposed to come to my place but didn’t show.”

  Mariam laughed. “It’s a big city. Lots of people live near that park.”

  “Wait. I thought she was acting weird a while back too. Like I thought she might be pregnant or something,” Gisele said.

  I was glad someone was taking me seriously.

  “But whatever it was, she seems to be over it now,” Gisele continued.

  “Me too. I thought she was being kinda spacey a few weeks ago, but I just figured it had to do with her grandparents’ accident or something,” Mariam said. She took a bite of her sandwich. “Besides, of everyone I know, Anna is the last person who’d would want to kill herself.”

  “You’re probably right. I’m probably overreacting. But still, it’s awfully suspicious. I mean, she said her mom was going to drop her off, then she said she forgot her math books and had to take a bus back home to get them.”

  “I think she’s just complex,” Kyle said. He’d joined the conversation late and was eating a plate of nachos.

  “Whatever!” Gisele laughed. “If she had a rock-sized pimple on her nose, you’d think that was complex too.”

  That night I found the courage to ask Mom about her sister, even though I was pretty sure I was going to get shut down before I could find out anything useful. Still, I had to try. I hoped there’d be a clue, some detail that would make me feel better about whatever was going on with Anna. I waited until we were doing the dinner dishes so we wouldn’t have to look at each other.

  “Do you miss Helen?” I asked as I handed her a plate to dry. I know we’re the only people left on the entire planet without a dishwasher, but the apartment only has a sink and, when we moved in, Mom said we could manage with just the two of us to clean up after.

  She cleared her throat and I wasn’t sure she heard me, but then she said: “I guess. I mean, yes, of course. It’s been so long though.”

  “She was older than you, right?”

  “Two years.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “She got in with the wrong crowd at high school. She started skipping classes and smoking pot. That led to other things. It was the seventies and things were crazy. Then she started staying out all night. The police would bring her home sometimes. My parents flipped out. They didn’t have a clue what to do. When they were teenagers, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes was considered wild. Eventually she just got so wrapped up in taking drugs, she got careless, I guess.”

  “What did she die of?”

  “An overdose.”

  “Of what, though?”

  “I don’t know. Lots of things. Do we have to talk about this? It was almost thirty years ago.”

  “But you never talk about it. I still can’t believe I didn’t know you had a sister all this time. I mean, you don’t have a picture of her anywhere. I’ve never even heard anyone mention her name, not once.”

  “I talk about her.”

  “You’ve NEVER talked about her when I’ve been around.”

  “No, it’s usually when you’re not there.”

  “But why?”

  “My parents wouldn’t allow it whe
n I was in high school. It was something they were ashamed of. I guess I got used to not speaking her name.”

  “But it must have been pretty terrible to lose your sister and then not even be able to talk about her.”

  Mom stopped drying and looked at me.

  “It was a nightmare. You have no idea. I can’t even describe it. I don’t think I was ever the same after that.”

  “Don’t you think it would have helped to talk about it?”

  “Yes and no. Some things are better left unsaid.”

  “It’s wrong, if you ask me. If she’d died of leukemia or in a car accident, you’d have pictures of her on the wall. You would have named me after her or something. There’d be some sign she existed. But it’s like you wish she was never alive in the first place.”

  “That’s not true,” Mom said. There was a sharp edge to her tone and I knew I should drop it.

  “I’m just saying,” I said quietly and let the rest of the sentence dissolve in my mouth.

  Anna

  It took me a few weeks to recover from my failed hanging. Not only did my back and neck ache for over two weeks, I was so shaken by what I’d almost done I found it hard to get back on track. In fact, I was so downhearted I almost forgot about the list I’d hidden in my math binder, between the cardboard insert and the vinyl cover. It was a list of all the ways someone could kill themselves. At least it was everything I could think of. It wasn’t until I came downstairs one Saturday morning and saw Mom sitting on the couch that the memory choked me. Sherlock was warming her feet and she had my binder on her lap. Her hands were folded over it and she had a faraway look in her eyes.

  “Mom?” I asked.

  She turned to face me but she didn’t say anything.

  “Everything okay?” I asked again.

  I was afraid to step any closer so I stayed at the threshold of the living room and watched the distance expand between us.

  “I’m fine,” she smiled absently.

  She paused and although I wanted to flee, I waited for the ambush.

  “I was just thinking about Christmas. Maybe we should shake it up a bit this year. Do something different. What do you think?”

  The sweat that had been building on my forehead evaporated so quickly I felt faint.

  “Sure, whatever you want. As long as we’re all together.” I tried not to stare at the binder but I had an overwhelming urge to rip it out of her hands.

  “That’s what I thought too, but your dad is so traditional.”

  I couldn’t think of what to say so I stood as quietly as I could. Mom got lost in her thoughts again.

  “So, um, did you need my binder for something?” I asked finally.

  “No, sorry. Not at all. I just borrowed a piece of paper to start my shopping list.”

  She fluttered the list in the air and handed me the binder. I grabbed it and hugged it to my chest. Then I chastised myself for leaving it out in the first place.

  “I have to study for a test,” I said.

  “I’m going to the mall later if you want to come,” she called out as I padded down the hall to my bedroom.

  “Sounds good,” I called back to her, “let me know when you’re leaving.”

  To be honest, I had no desire to go to the mall. There was nowhere I could go that was going to make me feel any better. In fact, I knew being at the mall would probably make me feel worse than just sitting in my room. But I was feeling too restless to be alone.

  I sat down on my bed and found the small tear in the cover of my binder. I got a pair of tweezers and pulled the list free. I knew what was written there and didn’t need to read it, but still, I unfolded the piece of paper.

  Ways to Kill Yourself

  jumping from a bridge (definitely afraid of heights)

  getting hit by a moving truck (can’t take the chance of killing someone else)

  slashing wrists (not an option — thought of blood makes me pass out)

  carbon monoxide poisoning (not an option — access to a car and a garage problematic)

  gunshot to the head (not an option — access to a gun problematic)

  hanging (how did that TJSS guy do it?)

  drowning (still possible? maybe if water is cold?)

  overdose

  It seemed like years had passed since I’d walked across suicide bridge, but it had only been four months. I glanced out my bedroom window at the snow falling. Even the botched hanging had receded. Panic clawed out from inside my chest and I lay down on my bed. I tucked my knees under my chin and tried to clear my mind. What was wrong with me? I wondered. Why couldn’t I just go through the motions of living like everyone else and act happy? Was everyone as miserable as me but a better actor? Did Aliya sometimes wish she could fall asleep and never wake up? Did Kyle ever want his brain to just shut up? I shook the thought from my head and sat up again. I needed a distraction and turned on my laptop. Joe found me on Facebook within minutes.

  “Do U ever study or R U, like, always on FB?” I asked him.

  “Nice conversation starter,” he quipped back.

  “Sorry. How R U?”

  “Fine. Did Mom tell U her big plan for Christmas?”

  “Not really, what?”

  “She wants to go on a cruise.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, she thinks if we stay home all we’re going to do is think about Granny and Gramps like last year.”

  I didn’t know what to write back. I didn’t want to think about Granny, or Gramps.

  “U still there?” Joe wrote a minute later.

  “Yeah, I’m here. Getting away would be good.”

  “She needs us to convince Dad.”

  “How?”

  “You’re his favourite. Don’t U have any strategies?”

  “Yeah, rite, I’m his favourite. Where does she want to go?”

  “Alaska, but they don’t run in winter.”

  Too bad, I thought when I pictured all that icy water slapping at the hull of a cruise ship.

  “Where else?”

  “The Caribbean, the Mediterranean, the South Pacific.”

  “Aren’t cruises big $$$$?”

  “Yeah, I was surprised too. But something down in the Caribbean is probably ok.”

  “It would be nice to be warm for a week.”

  “So talk to Dad.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  I’d never been on a ship before but I imagined it would be pretty easy to sneak onto the deck at night and slip over the railing. Once I was in the ocean there was no way I’d be able to swim to safety and nobody would be around to rescue me. In fact, it might be considered an accident and Mom and Dad would be spared the grief of knowing they’d raised a suicidal freak.

  “Sweetie?” Mom knocked on my door and poked her head into my room.

  Sherlock, who was lying beside my bed, raised his head hopefully and whacked his tail on the floor. The cat jumped off my bed.

  “I’m going to the mall now. You still want to come?”

  I slapped my hand over the list lying beside me.

  I have to stop being so careless, I thought.

  “Yeah, sure. Give me five minutes.”

  I logged off my computer, tucked the note back into its secret compartment, and joined Mom in the car. I almost got out again because the thought of being at the mall was overwhelming, but I forced myself to put on the seatbelt.

  Because the snow was falling hard, traffic moved slowly and what should have been a ten-minute drive seemed to take forever. To make matters worse, the wipers were squeaking across the windshield and the heater was blasting so hot on my face that I started to feel claustrophobic. I closed the air vent and sighed.

  “You sound tired,” Mom said. She glanced over and offered me a sympathet
ic smile.

  “It’s just this time of year,” I said.

  “I know how you feel. Which brings me to Christmas. I think we should go on a cruise. Skip the tree, turkey, and trimmings. Spend a week lounging around a pool.”

  “Sounds good to me,” I said. I knew she didn’t want to bring up Granny and Gramps, but not saying their names didn’t mean we weren’t both thinking of them.

  “We just have to convince Dad. I think he’s worried about you. Maybe you could let him know you’re all right with changing it up this year?”

  “Sure, I’ll talk to him.”

  “I have my eye on a trip already. It leaves December eighteenth.”

  I suddenly got what she was doing. She wanted us out of the country before the anniversary of the accident. Like we’d somehow avoid thinking about them if we were in a different place. Their faces loomed large in my mind. I still hated myself for not crying at their funerals.

  “That’s close. Can you book something so late?”

  “I haven’t actually called, but a lady at work booked the week before Christmas last year. She got a last-minute deal.”

  Mom and I split up at the entrance of the mall and agreed to meet at the food court in two hours. She headed to the department store to buy underwear and I wandered in the opposite direction. I still wasn’t sure why I was at the mall. I knew there was no point buying new jeans or boots if I wasn’t going to be around to wear them.

  When I was thirteen, I loved shopping as much as I loved drawing. I tried to fill the nagging void inside by buying new T-shirts and hoodies. But those days were a distant memory. Instead of stopping to admire the window displays at my old favourite stores, I rushed past. The Christmas music and frenzied shoppers made me feel anxious. I wasn’t sure I could stand another season of forced cheerfulness and togetherness, even on a cruise ship. That’s when the urgency hit me with so much force I had to stop and lean against the railing to catch my breath. I looked down at people walking on the level below. Groups of teenagers moved in herds. Couples split up to go around them.

 

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