by Susan Lewis
She didn’t understand why people felt the need to be so obscene and cruel, or what made them attack someone they didn’t even know, using their venom, their evil, as if twisting and turning knives.
The only place she could go for proper understanding and advice was these websites. There were quite a few, with hundreds, maybe thousands of contributors from all over the world, many suffering in the same way she was. A lot had become self-harmers who wrote about the relief they achieved through cutting themselves with razor blades, hacksaws, pieces of plastic, even the corners of toothpaste tubes. Though she hadn’t yet done the same, she was being encouraged to all the time. It would make her feel better, she was told. She’d be taking control, ensuring she was the one who caused herself harm rather than leaving it to someone else. Some had posted videos of themselves bleeding from wounds so deep that they surely needed stitches, but as far as she could make out no one ever went to a hospital. It was like a challenge they set themselves: who could cause the most damage to their arms, legs, faces, or even bones without anyone noticing? One girl liked to burn herself; she loved the smell, she said. Another scraped the skin from her legs with a peeler.
Paige usually chatted with her new friends in the dead of night, when darkness seemed to acquire so many more depths that she wondered where they might end. Down and down she would go, like the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, to a place where perspective felt different, and everything was deathly quiet and still. The only sounds were the tapping of her keys and the gentle hum of the computer. She could imagine the others in their own pockets of light, dotted around the world like small, lonely stars in a vast night sky. Several were suicidal, or so they claimed, but she didn’t know of anyone who’d actually gone through with it yet. They were always talking about it, all the different ways they’d explored, and why one might be more effective, less painful, easier to achieve than another. Hanging, wrist-slitting, ODing, leaping from a bridge into the path of a lorry…She’d followed some of the links through to step-by-step guides of how to prepare, what not to do, and what was recommended when the time came.
As she read the posts she could feel her friends’ loneliness as deeply as she felt her own. It was an invisible yet powerful connection between them that held them together, made them feel less lonely for a while, and even gave them a sense of belonging. This was where they could exist without fear of their persecutors finding them.
Though Paige never offered advice the way some did, she was always ready with sympathy when she felt it was needed. And she received plenty too. They understood her in a way no one had before, apart from Julie, who was constantly sending her links to new blogs or sites and meeting up with her in chat rooms where suicide was the main theme.
I want to do it so badly, Julie confessed in their private messaging one night, and I think I’m getting there. How about you?
I think I am too. I read on one of the sites the other day that dying might be painful, but after death there is no pain, or abuse, or anything that can hurt you again. That makes so much sense.
Yes, it does. Have you thought about how you’d do it?
I think the same way as you, either off a cliff or I’d walk into the sea.
I reckon that would be the most painless. Sometimes when I think about it I feel I’d be flying like a bird or an angel as I jumped, and as soon as I hit the rocks below I’d leave my body and be flying again.
I get what you mean. It sounds lovely. Do you think you’ll do it?
I want to. I guess we’ll see. Maybe I’m like all the others, just talk. I reckon you’ve got more courage than me.
Sometimes I want to do it so badly that I go to the cliffs and stand looking down at the sea. I’m not sure what stops me.
You’re just not ready yet, but I think you will be. Did you notice that Karina hasn’t been online since she posted her goodbye note? That was over a week ago.
Paige had noticed, but she was still waiting for Karina to turn up again. It wasn’t her real name, of course; everyone used an alias—Paige’s was Giselle, Beyoncé’s middle name. She hadn’t found anything in any of the news websites about a teenage girl killing herself, but it could have happened in Australia or Singapore or anywhere in the world and just not got through to them.
Has your mum found out yet that you’re not going to school?
No, but she’s bound to soon. Someone’ll ring her up or Charlotte will tell.
I think it really sucks that you and Charlotte aren’t friends anymore. Just goes to show you never know who you can trust.
Paige hadn’t responded to that. She didn’t like to talk about Charlotte much, or even to think about her really. After what she’d said about her dad, Paige didn’t want any more to do with her. She was never going to forgive her for that, not ever.
Earlier today she’d taken a risk by riding the bus from Swansea to Llanrhidian. Usually she didn’t come onto the Gower for her truancy journeys, or not very far onto it anyway, but when she’d been at the station trying to decide which bus to take she’d spotted one of the rangers who helped tourists heading her way. Afraid he was going to ask why she wasn’t at school, she avoided him by jumping onto the nearest bus, which had turned out to be heading for Llanrhidian. At least it was the opposite side of the peninsula from where she lived, so the chance of someone getting on who knew her wasn’t as likely as if she’d found herself on her way to Oxwich or Port Eynon.
She was at home now, safe in her room, except it wasn’t safe, because they still got to her here through her phone and computer. Amongst all the horrible stuff today she’d had a sweet Snapchat from someone called Petra telling her to be brave, everyone was with her. The photo was of a kitten, so she had no idea what Petra looked like, if she was even a girl. It didn’t matter. All that did matter was that in amongst the blizzard of abuse she had people to communicate with who cared, and though she often chatted with them during the day she always felt the best times were at night. She knew she was entering the darkest part of the dark side when she connected with them then—she even felt as though she was being swallowed right up in the shadows—but it was getting so that she could hardly wait to be there. It was the only place that seemed to make any sense, the only time she could express herself in ways that would have been impossible elsewhere.
Flora was with her now, sitting on the bed playing with the stuffed animals that Paige had had since she was a baby.
“Can I take Little Kanga to sleep with me tonight?” Flora asked, cuddling the downy toy to her cheek.
“If you like,” Paige answered, keeping her back turned and eyes on the chat room. She wasn’t taking part, just reading, absorbing, and fretting.
“He’s my favorite. He’s yours too, isn’t he?”
Paige didn’t bother to respond.
“I like Sally the rag doll as well, and Hippo, and Teddy, and Penguin, and everything you have, because you’ve got all the best stuff and I don’t have very much.”
Paige wasn’t listening. Someone new was in the chat room saying that Karina was definitely gone and that she wanted to thank all her friends for their messages of love and support that had helped her to find the courage to take the only way out. She’s free now. She’s happy and with the people she loves.
Paige felt suddenly horribly light-headed and scared.
Someone she had chatted with had actually taken her own life.
If Paige did the same, she would be with Grandpa. There would be no more texts or emails, tweets or postings; she’d be beyond it all, no longer a loser, or ugly, or someone whose father had left home because of her. She wouldn’t have to read any more nastiness about her “weird grandma” or her “wimpy brother Josh” or the “four-eyed twins.” Her mother wouldn’t be the whore who’d taught her all she knew, her father wouldn’t be a rapist, and the perverts who’d joined in would have no one to send their revolting videos to. She wouldn’t feel as though she was being watched all the time and hated and despised. There would
no longer be any shame in being her, because she really would be Paige No Moore.
“Please, Paige, please, please, please,” Flora was begging.
“Please what?” Paige muttered.
“Put some makeup on me, make me look pretty like you.”
Paige turned round. “I’m not pretty, OK?” she snapped. “There’s nothing pretty about me, so don’t ever say it again.”
Flora’s eyes grew huge behind the frames of her glasses.
“You have to go now,” Paige told her. “I don’t want you in here anymore.”
Climbing off the bed with Little Kanga clutched to her chest, Flora walked to the door with her head bowed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to make you cross.”
“I’m not cross, I’m just…I’ve got private stuff going on, so you need to go.”
Minutes after the door closed behind Flora, Julie came online.
Did you read about Karina?
Yes. Lucky her, she’s already done it.
I think I might be ready to.
Me too.
I’ve been thinking. How about we do it together?
Paige’s heart leapt. She’d been thinking the same thing. That’s a good idea.
When?
Paige hesitated, not sure what to say.
I’ll be ready when you are. Just let me know. There’s a place we can go. I’ll give you directions.
Paige felt her head starting to spin. It was coming closer now. It wouldn’t be long before it was all over.
You should write down everything that’s happened to you, make sure the Durmites get the blame they deserve.
Paige was definitely up for that. Do you know anyone who’s already on the other side? I mean someone in your family.
My mother.
Paige blinked in surprise. Julie had never mentioned that before. How long ago did she die?
Ages. I never really think about her. Is there someone there for you?
My grandpa. I know he’ll take care of me.
Then you’ll be all right.
Your mum will take care of you.
I have to go now. Don’t forget to let me know when you’re ready. I can’t wait much longer.
Do you realize we’ll get to meet? I’ll know who you are. Do I already know you?
Not really. We’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other on the other side.
As the contact was lost Paige felt a numbing bleakness stealing over her, like a dense gray mist rolling in from the sea. She thought of her mother, her father, Josh and the twins, her grandma, and Auntie Hanna. Tears began spilling from her eyes; sobs were trying to choke her. Then she remembered what she’d been told. You will only be thinking about yourself when the time comes. No one else will matter or even exist. If they do, then it means you’re not ready to go.
—
“Why the hell are you only telling me this now?” Jack was shouting into the phone.
Jenna held it away from her ear. She didn’t want to shout back; she had neither the will nor the time for it.
“My son breaks his arm and you don’t think it’s important enough to pick up the phone?”
“I dealt with it, OK?” she cut in sharply.
“That’s not the point. Did you stop Josh from telling me himself?”
Incensed, she snapped, “No one stopped him. He just didn’t ask to call you, and this is the first time you’ve found a minute to call us.”
Grinding out the words, he said, “You can’t resist it, can you?”
“Do you know what, Jack, I really don’t need this. I’m trying to get them ready for school, which you’d know if you’d bothered to check the time difference before you rang. What the hell time is it there?”
“Just after midnight.”
“So why are you calling now?”
“Because I knew they’d all be at home.”
“Great! Everything has to happen on your schedule, doesn’t it, Jack? Let’s make sure we all fit in around you. Never mind that we’re up to our eyes here, already running late, can’t find our shoes, don’t want to brush our teeth, have to finish watching a program or playing a game…”
“I’ll call back another time,” he said, and the line went dead.
Hanging up her end, Jenna stood over the phone, afraid to move, to think, to do anything that might end up pushing her that final step over the edge. She was so close, so dangerously and calamitously close, that even breathing felt like an unsafe thing to do.
She counted to ten and tried to will herself to carry on with the morning. All she had to do was clear up the spilled cereal, rescue crayons floating in milk, pick up the Legos before Waffle chewed one of them, brush Flora’s hair, make sure everyone had the right books in their bags after checking them to make sure there were no notes they’d forgotten to give her, find out who had PE…
She’d been arrested for shoplifting yesterday. A security guard had stopped her on the way out of Tesco and marched her to the manager’s office. She’d had two bags full of groceries she hadn’t paid for. She hadn’t even realized that until they’d pointed it out. All she’d been able to think about at the time was Paige and the call she’d just received from The Landings. Paige hadn’t been to school for over a fortnight, and they were worried; they wanted to know what was wrong with her, how things were at home, and if there was anything they could do to help.
“I can explain,” she’d told the supermarket manager, but she hadn’t been able to because she hadn’t wanted to admit to being such a terrible mother that she’d had no idea her daughter wasn’t going to school.
They’d let her go in the end, but not until the police had been called and she’d contacted Richard to ask for his help. He’d come straightaway and sorted it out somehow, had probably even paid for the shopping, because she’d had it when she got home.
He’d rung last night to find out how she was, and she’d told him she was fine.
“A stupid aberration,” she’d tried to joke. “I’ve never done anything like it before.”
“You’ve got a lot on your mind.”
“Not a very good excuse, but it’s the only one I have.”
“You need a break, some time for yourself, but I know it isn’t easy when you have children.”
“Or when your husband is in the States with another woman, so he can’t help out.”
“What about your mother and sister?”
“Yes, they’ll help, definitely. Easter’s coming and the children will be on holiday, so it won’t be as stressful.”
“You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do?”
“Of course, and thank you for today. I’m horribly embarrassed, and I’m not sure I want to know what you said to them.”
“It doesn’t matter. What does is that they realized it was a mistake and now you’re home in one piece.”
Except she wasn’t in one piece. She was in so many pieces that she had no idea how to pull herself together.
“Shall we walk on Sunday?” he suggested.
“That would be lovely. Thank you.”
A walk on Sunday with Richard and the dogs. Just think of that, Jenna. It’ll keep you calm, help you to stay focused, give you something to look forward to.
She registered feet thundering down the stairs. Music blaring from someone’s TV. Voices from the radio. Sunlight blazing across the kitchen.
Paige had refused to open her door last night.
She had to speak to her.
“Mum! Can I take my boxing gloves to school?”
“Mum! Josh can’t brush his teeth.”
“I can. I already did it.”
“Mum! Wills has broken his glasses again.”
“Mum! Can I have a piece of toast?”
“Mum! I can’t find any socks.”
“Mum! I dropped my reading book in Waffle’s water.”
“Mum! Have you seen my ruler?”
“Mum! Is Dad going to ring again?”
Mum, Mum, Mum, Mum…
“Mum, why are you banging your head on the wall?”
“Stop, Mum, you’ll make yourself bleed.”
“Please, Mum, stop…”
“For God’s sake,” Paige exclaimed, grabbing her mother’s shoulders. “What the hell are you doing? You’re scaring everyone.”
“And everyone’s scaring me.” Jenna’s voice was hysterical. “Especially you! I don’t know what’s happening to you, what you’re doing on that bloody computer, where you’re going when you’re supposed to be at school.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Stop it!” Wills cried, clasping his hands to his ears.
“I want some answers,” Jenna shouted as Paige made to walk off. “Don’t you dare…”
“Just leave me alone,” Paige yelled back at her. “I’m sick of this place.”
“And I’m sick of you shutting yourself up in that room, never letting anyone in, being unpleasant to your sister, ignoring your brothers…You put yourself first all the time, never thinking about how things are for them.”
“They’re not my children. They’re yours. I didn’t ask you to have them, so stop trying to make them my responsibility.”