OK, so it's incredibly long, but I don't know where to split it. This continues straight on from the last one. Literally the last line and the first line go right next to each other in Word.
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Dad came out and sat with me.
“How’s Ashley?” he asked. I looked at him.
“Did you know I love her?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“I want to spend the rest of my life with her, I want to marry her and have a family with her and everything, I love her so much,” I said.
“I know, I know how that feels,” dad said. I was surprised when I found tears in my eyes.
“I don’t need those pills anymore, Dad, I’m so sure,” I said.
“Maybe we will talk to the doctor, she’s having a very positive effect on you,” he said.
“Really?” I asked. Hope bloomed in my chest. I didn’t know I could add another emotion to the mixture that was brewing in my chest. My heart felt tight with them.
“Really,” he said.
“There’s no voices, no depression, so suicidal thoughts, I feel normal, even when she’s not physically with me, I know she’s out there, I know she’s alive, and she’s mine,” I said. Dad smiled.
“You need some food, son,” dad said.
“I really do,” I said.
“Let’s order pizza,” dad said. We went inside and dad called the pizza place. Our pizzas came later. “You’re going back to boarding school tomorrow,” dad said. I nearly choked on my pizza.
“Tomorrow?” I asked. Dad nodded once.
“I told them that we got you cleared up and they said they want you back,” they said. “They miss your art I think,” he said. I smiled. “But they said, and I quote – ‘no more creepy stuff’,” he said. I laughed. Last year I got manically depressed, psychotic and schizophrenic, and while my artwork was still good, it was too graphic for the school. Dead bodies, murders, gruesome killings, blood, flesh, fire. My disabilities worsened, and I became more and more aggressive and violent until I almost beat someone to death.
“No more creepy stuff,” I promised.
“We worry about you,” dad said.
“I know,” I said. “I’m fine now,” I said. I knew I was. “When am I leaving?” I asked. Dad scratched his head and looked at the floor.
“Ten, in the morning,” he said.
“That’s before I see Ashley,” I said.
“She’s coming to see you off,” dad said. I smiled.
“I think I’ll be ok with not seeing her, as long as I get to see her when I come home,” I said. Dad smiled.
“I was worried you might be annoyed at the timing,” he said. All of a sudden my stomach churned and I ran to the bathroom. I threw up violently in the toilet. And again. I rinsed my mouth out in the tap, flushed the toilet and then sat on the floor and bawled my eyes out. Dad had come running up the stairs. “Jamie?” he asked. I crawled to the toilet and threw up again.
“Ashley,” I croaked. Dad understood, he nodded and went to call her. I sat on the ground, crying again. Dad came upstairs with the phone in his hand.
“She called Mark and said that she was going to Amber's,” he said. I got up and dragged myself to my room. I ambled around, packing for the next day. After that I got into bed and fell into a feverish sleep.
Her breathing was heavy, he’d been following her for blocks and blocks, and now she finally noticed. She’d started running about five minutes ago. He chased her down a dark alley and cornered her. She sunk to the ground, sobbing. He hit her.
“Shut up!” he yelled when she screamed.
“Please,” she said. “Please, I need to live, he needs me, I need to live, I have to,” she said. He laughed and pulled out a knife and stabbed her, and again, and again. Then he began walking away.
“He’s gonna get you, he’s gonna find you and kill you, he’ll cut you up into tiny little pieces, he’ll kill you!” she said weakly. He laughed and walked away.
I woke up in a cold sweat, with dad sitting on the bed next to me. I looked at him.
“What’re you doing here?” I asked.
“You were yelling in your sleep,” dad said. He sighed and looked at his watch. “It’s nine in the morning, I think you should get up,” he said. “How’s your stomach?” I got up uncertainly.
“Good,” I said. “So much better than last night.” Dad smiled.
“That’s good. Do you want breakfast?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. We went downstairs and had leftover pizza. After I took my pills I called Ashley.
“Did Ash come home last night?” I asked her dad.
“No, she said she was at Amber's,” he said.
“OK, well, when she gets home, tell her to call me, you know, if she can’t make it to me leaving,” I said, feeling uneasiness set in my stomach. Why would she go out when she knew I was leaving the next day?
“I will,” he said. I hung up and walked up to my room and got dressed. I put my knife into my bag that I had packed last night, and my lighter. I went back downstairs and put my pills in the bag, too. I went into the living room and watched TV until dad said we had to go. Then I got my bag and we left. We drove for about five minutes, then dad stopped the car in a big car park where a bus was waiting. Dad helped me get my bags out and then we hugged.
“Hey, be good,” dad said.
“What are you, E.T?” I asked jokingly. Dad laughed.
“I love you, take care,” he said. I nodded.
“You too,” I said. I looked around for Ashley, but she wasn’t there, then I sighed and climbed aboard the bus. We drove for a long time, and some time in the journey my phone rang. It was Ashley’s dad. I picked up quickly.
“Hello?” I said.
“Jamie,” Mark said with relief. “Was Ashley there to see you off?” he asked.
“No,” I said. Mark swore. “Why, what’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly demanding. The kid sitting next to me gave me a weird look.
“I called Amber, and apparently she wasn’t there,” he said.
“Shit! She what?!” I yelled.
“She wasn’t there,” he said. I stood up, and the kid next to me gave me a frightened look.
“I’ll –” I said. I stopped. I’ll what? I thought. I took a deep breath and sat back down, and then felt proud at myself for not doing something rash.
“No, don’t do anything, I’ll wait a little longer,” he said.
“No, call all her friends, see if she was there, and if she wasn’t anywhere, call the police,” I said.
“OK, I’ll call you as soon as I get any news,” he said.
“Call me before the police, OK, I’m the first to know,” I said.
“OK, I’ll call you,” he said, and hung up. I spent the remainder of the bus ride worrying. The kid next to me got this understanding look in his eye and started talking to me.
“Hey, I know you, you’re Jamie!” he said.
“You know me?” I asked.
“Yeah, you’re, like, famous at this school. You nearly killed that kid, and you went all psycho-depressed and then you left and I heard you met this girl that made you normal,” he said. I flinched when he mentioned Ashley. Then I smiled at him.
“That sums me up,” I said. The kid got this scared look and stopped talking to me. The rest of the bus ride was long and agonising. I raced off the bus when we got there. I had the feeling that if I rushed things, things would happen faster, and I’d know about Ashley sooner. A teacher called my name and I walked over to her.
“Hello Mr. Fisher, the principal would like to see you,” she said. I nodded and followed her. I got let into the principals office and sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. I took in the room quickly, a habit I’d picked up from my less healthy days, big windows, cluttered wooden desk, blue carpets, bland paintings on the wall, hard chairs. I flicked my long, curly brown hair out of my eyes.
“Mr. Fisher,” the principal said. “Welcome back. It’s great too see you all healthy,” he said. I didn’t feel healthy, and his look told me that I looked less healthy that I expected. I knew I must look pretty manic. My eyes were darting around and I was fidgety. I must have looked as if I was on speed of some sort.
“Yeah, it’s, uh, great to be back,” I said. “And I’m, yeah, healthy and shit – stuff! – sorry,” I said. My phone went off, it was a call from Mark. “I need to take this, it’s about my missing girlfriend,” I said. Principal Franklin didn’t look too pleased but I picked up anyway. “Yeah?” I asked urgently.
“She wasn’t at any of her friends houses,” he said.
“Oh, shit, OK call the police, then call me when they get there,” I said. We both hung up.
“What -?” Principal Franklin began.
“I’d rather not talk about it,” I said forcefully. The principal nodded.
“So, uh, all your, uh ... issues are ... what, sorted out?” he asked. We’ll see, I thought.
“Yeah, I’m all good,” I said. He nodded.
“And that’s why you’re racy and paranoid,” he stated. I smiled coldly at him.
“My girlfriend is missing, and she has been since last night, I was the last one to see her, at five pm last night,” I said. “She’s the reason that I’m better, so I think I have an excuse to be a bit worried,” I said. He nodded. “And I will probably be answering my phone a lot today,” I said. “Until ...” I trailed off. I couldn’t think of anything optimistic, I couldn’t bare to think of the alternative. “Until we get some ... sort of news,” I said. Principal Franklin nodded.
“Of course, I understand, I’ll tell your teachers,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said.
“And you can go straight to your dorm after this, you don’t have to come to assembly,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Well, Mr. Fisher, I think you can go,” he said, standing up and shaking my hand. “Welcome back,” he said. “Mr. Green will show you where your dorm is. We gave you a single,” he said. I smiled. We walked out the door and Mr. Green was waiting for me. He was tall and balding, wearing the worst clothes I’d ever seen.
“Mr. Fisher,” he said.
“Mr. Green,” I said.
“Do you remember me?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “You were my science teacher last year, and then you kicked me out because I blew the desk up,” I said. “I still remember that formula, I have it written down,” I said. Mr. Green looked extremely worried.
“Yes, well, I don’t believe I have you this year,” he said. We walked the rest of the way in silence, and as soon as I was in my room my phone rang.
“They’re here,” Mark said as soon as I picked up.
“And ...?”
“They want to ask you a few questions,” he said.
“Put them on,” I said. The phone changed over.
“Mr. Fisher,” a deep voice said.
“That’s me,” I said.
“This is officer Grady, could you tell me the last time you saw Miss. Robson?” he asked.
“Um, yeah, last night, around five pm,” I said. The officer sighed.
“And Ashley’s father said that she’d been to no one’s house on the way back, is that right?”
“Not that I know of,” I said. He sighed again.
“OK, well we’re going to look at the route from her house to yours, do you know if she makes any short cuts?” he asked.
“No, she, uh, just walks straight there and back,” I said. “But there are a lot of alleys, so be sure to check,” I said. I pulled a distressed face as he put Mark back on.
“Call me ...” I couldn’t finish.
“Yeah,” he said. We both hung up and I pulled out my knife. I lay on my bed and considered it, the way it shone in the light, the noise it made when I flicked it out. I lay in my bed all day, I might have even slept, but that night my phone rang again. It was Mark. I picked up and he was silent.
“Mark?” I asked. There was a shaky, gasping breath. “Mark?!” I yelled.
“We – we found her,” he said.
“And?” as if I didn’t already know.
“And she’s ... dead.” His voice broke on the last word. I felt like I was spiralling downwards. I hung up. My phone clattered to the floor. I thudded to the floor. I lay there, knife in hand, gasping on the floor.
Once I had a pet fish when I was really little. I took the fish out of water, because I wanted it to walk. I lay the fish on the counter. “Walk,” I remembered saying. I prodded it with my finger, and watched it die slowly. Its mouth opened and closed, its eyes slowly got bigger, and it stopped flipping around after a while. Then it looked at me pleadingly, its mouth gasping, its eyes getting dimmer, until it died. When I called dad because my fish wasn’t moving anymore, he told me fish had to live in water, just like we needed air. I asked why my fish wasn’t moving. “It’s dead,” he said. “We have to flush him down to toilet,” he said.
I felt like that fish now. Gasping, gasping. My water was gone, Ashley was my water, she was what I needed to live. And the spiralling was me being flushed, because I was dead, spinning, spinning, round and round, down and down. Someone walked in.
“Oh my,” they said, and ran out again. I hid my knife under the bed, it was vital to me now. I took my position back on the floor, then two sets of feet came crashing in.
“Jamie,” it was Principal Franklin. He grabbed under my elbows and propped me up against the bed. “What happened?” he asked.
“Ashley,” I said.
“What about her?” I didn’t say anything.
“DEAD!” I screamed. “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” I yelled. He didn’t move. “GO!” I yelled in his face. “Get the fuck out of my room! Go AWAY!” I yelled. He left. I was crying now. I sat there for hours, letting everything wash over me.
...
“Smile,” she said. “Smile, smile, smile.”
“Maybe I’ll go away then,” she said.
“I love you; I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Smile,”
...
Her hair danced over her shoulders. We were at the beach, the sun was shining, this was my first time out with her. I hadn’t told her how I felt yet. She was my therapists daughter. Her mum had just died, my therapist had just died. She seemed to be taking over, not analyzing me, but looking after me.
...
We were at the park, by our tree. She was leaning against it and I was leaning over her. I was playing with her hair, avoiding her eyes. I sighed and looked into them.
“I gotta talk to you,” I said. She nodded. I didn’t say anything. “Um ... I don’t really know how to say this,” I said. She kissed me.
“I love you, too,” she said. I smiled.
...
“Just let me try and come off the pills,” I said.
“No, this is for you,” she said.
“But all I need is you,” I said. “I don’t need them,” I said.
“No, you might get sick,” she said.
“But I won’t, I’m so sure of it,” I said. She hugged me. I realised she was crying.
“I love you so much, and the only reason that I don’t want to try this is because I love you, and this is for your own good,” she said.
“OK,” I said.
...
“What do you want most in the world?” I asked.
“For you to be always smiling,” she said.
...
I pulled the knife out from between the mattress and the bed frame and put the blade into my mouth.
“You wanted me to smile,” I muttered, and then pulled the knife up from the left side of my lip, reaching for my ear. I did the same to the other side. I didn’t feel the pain that I should have. My knife was covered in blood, and I smiled. “Now I’ll always be smiling,” I said. Then I screamed. “Ashley!” I only yelled it once, hoping to not attract any attention, but it did its job. Any uncut flesh from where I’d carved my face tore. I picked up my phone and called dad.
“Jamie,” he said.
“Dad, I love you,” I said, and hung up. “I’m fucking smiling, now,” I said. I smiled properly; Ashley got what she wanted; now I was always smiling. I laughed, and the sound was so different from what I’d ever heard that I laughed more. I laughed into hysteria, I laughed until I cried, and then blackness swallowed me.
Gender:
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