By the Time You Read This, I'll Be Dead

by Julie Anne Peters

  Who will see you through the darkness?

  Me. I’ll find my way.

  The darkness is a given. The darkness is life.

  In that bathroom, with those boys. It changed me; made me believe in evil.

  I could find my way out of that bathroom. I did. I freed myself by crawling and groping in the darkness.

  That took courage. To walk out and face my class.

  I should’ve told Kim. Chip. Anyone who’d listen. Those boys got away with violating me. In all the years of therapy, I never once spoke of that incident. Maybe if I’d named names, I’d have saved someone else from the same fate.

  But I’m no hero. I had to keep my dirty little secret.

  The worst sin I committed was holding it in; letting the secret blacken me.

  What awaits you?

  Eternal peace. Serenity.

  The light on the other side.

  What awaits me is unknown. The only certainty is that life is an eternal hell.

  I’m scared. What will tomorrow bring?

  It has to be better than today. It has to.

  How will you be remembered?

  As a loner and a loser.

  Kim and Chip will be the only ones who remember me for very long. I hope they remember the good stuff, when I was a baby, a toddler, when they still had hopes and dreams for their little girl, their miracle child. In truth, they were good to me. They were only doing what they knew how to do; what they thought was best.

  I do love them.

  I just hate the world they brought me into. I’ll be remembered as a fat, frightened, weak, stupid kid. Too scared to stand up for myself.

  Why?

  Because they had power. They had numbers.

  If we’d found each other, though, the tormented, the weak and powerless, we could’ve banded together. What made me weak was the sense that I was alone. But maybe I wasn’t alone. All the people on Through-the-Light, where were they? Living in the dark spaces, the gray place. If we could’ve found each other sooner, would it have changed the outcome?

  I don’t know. What I know is you can’t go back. You can’t press delete and re-key your life.

  How are they remembered, the ones who gave in to the darkness?

  As losers, or winners?

  Who becomes you?

  Not Emily. She’s strong. She’s reaching out. To the wrong person, but she’ll find others. She has to.

  What will I become? Because I won’t be me any longer.

  That will be a relief. I don’t want to be the helpless person I’ve always been.

  What choice do you have?

  NONE.

  Okay, I know I have a choice. God gave me free will. I’m not talking to you, God. Take the pain with me or leave it behind. That’s my choice.

  Why are you here?

  A body rams me and a voice says, “Watch where you’re going.”

  Where am I going? I’m in a long, narrow hall, walking. There are people everywhere, talking and laughing.

  It’s school. The day is over. Where have I been?

  I have to pee, and I can’t wait a few minutes.

  The restroom is around the corner, so I veer in for a pit stop. Santana appears in my head. How does he do it? Live. With the fear of death every day. I don’t fear death as much as I fear the thought of living.

  I think, He won’t be waiting on the bench. He knows now I have nothing to offer. Pantheism means counting on other people to keep you alive, and in this life, I don’t count.

  I hear the bathroom door open and close. A rush of cold air on my legs makes me shiver.

  Silence, but I know someone is here. My hand is unsteady as I go to wipe, and a drop of hot pee wets my finger. I thrust that hand away from me, stand up, and flush.

  She’s at the sink when I emerge. We don’t speak.

  I move toward the right sink and she blocks me. I edge to the left one and she blocks it too.

  I have to wash. I HAVE to. I head for the exit, but Taylor’s anticipated my move. She lifts both arms to the side, pressing against the tiled doorway. I need to get out that door.

  “I saw you with fat Emily in the chapel,” she says.

  Please let me through.

  “The fatty and the freak. How special.”

  My eyes raise to meet hers. Let. Me. Out.

  She plants her feet and scans me up and down. “Funny how rumors get started.” An evil smirk curls the ends of her lips.

  My gaze shifts past her mocking face to the door, to freedom.

  “I saw what you did.”

  When? What is she talking about?

  Taylor purses her lips and makes a kissing sound.

  She disgusts me.

  The sinks are unguarded, so I rush over and wrench on the water. A sigh of relief escapes my mouth as I cleanse. Rinse. Scrape.

  What am I scraping away? The filth. The memories.

  “I bet your boyfriend would be interested to hear about your girlfriend.”

  When I glance up into the mirror, Taylor’s behind me. She watches me scrub one hand, then the other. She goes, “You are so freaking weird.” Then for no reason, she kicks me in the leg.

  I whirl and kick her back. Hard.

  She looks . . . shocked. “Ow,” she says. “Why did you do that?” Her eyes pool. Then they slit and she looks mean.

  I stumble back out of her reach.

  She shoulders her bag and snarls between her teeth, “Watch your back. Freak.” She rushes out the door.

  Under my breath, in a raspy whisper, I say, “You watch yours.”

  The bench is empty. I knew it would be. Why he ever made contact in the first place . . .

  I’m still trembling from the confrontation with Taylor as I fish through my bag for my book. Calm yourself, Daelyn. She can’t hurt you. You’re almost at the end. Page 294. Maggie Louise brushed her auburn mane until it glistened. Charles would be here any minute and she’d tell him the news. Her mother once told her, “My darling, you’ve inherited your beauty from your father’s side of the family.” The high, chiseled cheekbones, the long, lean frame. But Magnolia’s constitution? Her determination? That was her mother’s gift to her.

  I’ll never see my mother again. She was powerless. We all are sometimes. What did I expect her to do? Save me when I couldn’t even save myself? I have the most urgent need to hug my mom, to tell her I’m sorry. To sit with her in the rocking chair and hear her sing to me.

  “You must follow your heart’s desire, for it will lead you to your destiny.” Her mother’s wise words resounded in Maggie Louise’s head. She felt the child within, the baby who would only ever know love and happiness in life. Yes, she’d found her heart’s desire. In Charles.

  He flops down and I about jump out of my skin. He sticks out his bony, hairy legs. He has on those camo shorts that tie at the knees. They’re not tied; the strings dangle. A sleeveless white tee. His hair is messy, like he just got out of bed.

  Why is he here?

  “I saw your last message,” he says quietly.

  My heart races. How? He wasn’t supposed to.

  He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you.”

  Because then you would have to despise me, I think. You already do.

  He twists his head to take me in. To drill into the side of my face. I feel his eyes penetrating my shield, and my heart explodes. He says, “I sort of figured out it was self-inflicted. Knowing you.”

  I don’t even know me. How could he?

  “I ran through all the possibilities. One,” he holds up a finger, “you slit your throat. Unless you had a really sharp serrated knife or a scalpel, you’d have to saw pretty hard.” He blinks. “Like, yeowch.”

  My breathing is rough and ragged. I can’t swallow.

  “Two,” a second finger, “you hanged yourself. I was sure that was it, although the loss of speech didn’t fit. Unless you really were mute, or choosing not to speak.”

  People who hang themselves empty their bowels.
Leaving waste behind is not an option.

  “Three was not even on my list.” He lowers his hand to clutch the bench. “Ammonia and bleach.” He shakes his head again. “Daelyn, that’s harsh. Did it burn up your esophagus all the way down? Soak into your vocal cords? I bet your stomach lining did the happy dance on that one.”

  I close my eyes. Can’t he see I’m not worth his time?

  “If you’d asked me I would’ve told you, drink paint thinner. Or gasoline. Petroleum products wreak havoc on the human body.”

  Tears rim my eyelids.

  “It’s okay,” he says softly.

  Involuntarily, I hiccup.

  He snakes an arm around behind me, curling his fingers over my shoulder. “Everyone hurts sometimes.”

  A gulp escapes.

  “There’s no shame in that.” He scoots a little closer. He breathes in my hair and I cry out loud.

  Santana presses my head to his chest. I’m heaving, I’m sobbing so hard.

  “We all get better too, you know. I heal you. You heal me. So sayeth Santana Lloyd Girard the Second, renowned lady-killer.”

  That makes me cry louder.

  He rests his head on mine and lets me cry it out. I think I’ll drown in my own self-pity.

  “Listen,” he says after a while. “You never answered my question.”

  I sniffle and look up at him, teary-eyed. “What question?”

  He gasps. “She speaks!” His eyes narrow and he waggles a finger in front of my face. “If you’ve been holding out on me all this time . . .” I want to bite off that finger, but instead I just wrench it down.

  “Hey. You’re strong.” He takes my hand and won’t let go. “If I don’t die of Hodgkin’s, the lead poisoning will kill me.” He shows me on his other arm the bruise where I stabbed him. It didn’t even pierce the skin. He’s smart enough to know the lead in pencils is graphite. “And you’re mean.”

  “No, I’m not.” I was only defending myself.

  “No. You’re not. Not like some people we know.” He holds my eyes and I can’t look away. “So, the question,” he says.

  My throat is raw, dry. “What. Question?” It hurts to talk.

  “About having dinner with me on my birthday.”

  My brain is a mass of snarling wires. Nothing computes.

  He adds, “If you’re around tomorrow, that is. If you don’t have plans, like drinking toxic waste or running with scissors, I would really, really like to share my birthday with you.”

  I blink at him. “Me?” I whisper.

  “Oh please.” He nudges my knee, like, you have to ask? His eyes, his dark blue, deeply intelligent eyes that span the universe go serious on me. Deadly serious when he says, “You can answer that question for yourself.”

  — DAY OF DETERMINATION —

  I log on and the final question appears:

  Delete account? Yes No

  I touch Yes.

  Confirm? Yes No

  I touch Yes.

  My room is cleared. My head is cleared. Earlier, around dawn, I took out the last load of trash. I look around and see what’s left. Nothing.

  There is no more Daelyn Rice.

  As I was.

  As I am.

  Or will become.

  I’m a blank slate.

  What choice do you have?

  Begin or end.

  Complete myself.

  Out the window, the man and dog appear. Man throws the Frisbee and Dog chases it. But instead of retrieving, Dog sits. He drops the Frisbee. He makes the man come to him.

  I smile to myself. Game over. Dog wins.

  I wish for Santana to have a dog.

  His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don’t know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.

  Chip calls, “Whenever you’re ready to leave, honey.”

  I stick the Mini Me into my book bag and shut the door behind me. It’s time. With determination and purpose, I head into the light.

  About the Guide

  By the Time You Read This, I’ll Be Dead is not a book that calls for formulaic questions, study guides, or vocab

  ulary lists. The power of this book grows with the questions the reader asks him/herself. Questions that we don’t want to ask because the answers may be too disturbing. This is a book that challenges the reader not only to ask those questions, but also to look for the answers.

  About the Book

  Daelyn has been the target of bullying for many years, and the bruises from it continue to hurt her. Unable to speak due to a failed suicide attempt, Daelyn is locked into an isolation of silence that she welcomes and protects. She wants to escape school, her parents, her life. . . . Previous suicide attempts have been failures, but now, with the structured help of Through-the-Light.com, an Internet suicide site, Daelyn knows she won’t fail again.

  Discussion Prompts

  1. Daelyn’s last suicide attempt injured her esophagus and vocal cords. She can’t talk to others, and at school some students think she is mute. Daelyn and her silence form a relationship.

  • How does her silence insulate her?

  • Does the silence keep her a prisoner?

  • By the end of the book, the reader knows Daelyn can talk if she wants to. Why does she choose to speak?

  • How does the author benefit from having a silent main character?

  • List the advantages and disadvantages of Daelyn’s silence.

  2. The worst is waking up in the hospital. Your parents are there, crying. Or your mother is yelling at the doctors and nurses. You come back wrecked. You ruin everyone’s day.

  It won’t happen again.

  I promise. (p. 29)

  • What is she promising?

  • Does Daelyn’s perception about how her death will affect her parents differ from the likely reality?

  • Daelyn sees her parents’ anger, but not their relief that she’s alive. Expand on this idea.

  • Daelyn is doing everything she can to make this time the last time. She has become a methodical planner. Explain her thinking.

  3. Sometimes people who are broken find other people who are broken.

  • Why might that be?

  • How does it happen in this book?

  • Can they help each other back to wholeness?

  4. Secrets. I can’t take them with me. If I do, when I go, when I arrive at my final destination, I’ll be . . . impure. I have no choice but to trust that they’re safe here. (p. 72)

  • There is a saying, Secrets keep us sick. How does this fit Daelyn?

  5. By the time I was ten I already knew my destiny. By middle school I had a plan for escape, for control. There’s always a way out. All you have to do is take it. (p. 113)

  • Explain how Daelyn sees “a plan of escape” as a plan “for control.”

  • In one sense, Daelyn seems to be surrendering, but in another she seems to have become determined. Explain how she does both.

  6. Why does Daelyn sign up for choir?

  Why does the teacher go along with it so completely?

  7. Girls scare me more than boys. Boys are cruel. Girls are mean. (p. 118)

  • Why would girls scare Daelyn more than boys?

  8. She squeezes my shoulders and says, “We love you so much.”

  I know, I know they do, in their own helpless way.

  At times like this, I’m thankful I don’t feel love. (p. 126)

  • What would change for Daelyn if she did feel love?

  9. His eyes shift to gaze down the hall after Ariel. He says in a flat voice, “I’m all she’s got and if I don’t make it this time . . .”

  You’ll pass through the light.

  A ribbon of guilt twists my stomach. I’m all Kim and Chip have too. But the difference is, they’ll be better off without me. (p. 160)

  • Daelyn and Santana are both concerned about their parents, but how are thei
r concerns different?

  10. Santana says: “If I have to, I’ll do chemo to fight the beast. Whatever it takes to stay alive.” (p. 137)

  Daelyn and Santana are each in a life-death conflict.

  • How are they different? How are they alike?

  11. Why does Santana want a relationship with Daelyn?

  12. “I’m scared, okay? I’ve always been scared. Every day of my life I wake up terrified. I wonder who will make it their mission to hunt me down today. I can’t WAIT to be rid of that feeling.” (p. 163)

  • How does this quote define bullycide?

  • Is it realistic to believe some people can feel this way?

  13. “I wish you could talk because I’d like to get your thoughts on pantheism. A basic moral belief that doing harm to oneself harms us all. That we’re all interconnected.” (p. 173)

  • Who else will be hurt if Daelyn harms herself?

  • Do you believe in pantheism?

  14. Santana presses my head to his chest. I’m heaving, I’m sobbing so hard.

  “We all get better too, you know. I heal you. You heal me. So sayeth Santana Lloyd Girard the Second, renowned lady-killer.”

  That makes me cry louder.

  He rests his head on mine and lets me cry it out. I think I’ll drown in my own self-pity. (p. 197)

  • Because of Santana, Daelyn is no longer alone. Has his friendship come too late?

  15. “If you’re around tomorrow, that is. If you don’t have plans, like drinking toxic waste or running with scissors, I would really, really like to share my birthday with you.” (p. 198)