Young Writers Society

PART ONE – ANNA CLAY

Chapter One

Anna Clay had invited me over for a cup of tea, a piece of toast and also to tell me that she had been planning to kill herself. I guess that’s the first thing you should know about her; she has a habit of hurling spanners into the cogs of my otherwise functioning existence. Though admittedly, it’s worth it, for the most part anyway.

“Look, don’t make a big deal,” she said, sitting at the other end of the old wooden dining table table.

“A big deal?” I said. “Are you joking right now, like seriously joking?”

I saw a look pass over her face like she wanted to say something but couldn’t. It took some sort of heroic self-control to keep myself from leaping over the table and shaking her.

“I want to do it properly and that’s the only reason I told you. Also because I know you can keep a secret, right?” The piece of toast between her finger and thumb stopped moving toward her open mouth. She looked up. “Why are you wearing that stupid look?”

That was a special skill of hers, she could raise a sledgehammer up the underside of your sternum and as soon any sign of discomfort surfaced she would make you feel like an idiot, like killing yourself was something chatted about over afternoon toast. Anna remained pretty much impassive as I cycled through what my father would probably call the four stage grief cycle.

Denial

“Anna, you know you shouldn’t joke like that. I mean if I didn’t know what you are like I would probably take that the wrong way.”

“It’s not a joke, Paul. Even I’m not that twisted,” she said.

Negotiation

“So is it serious, like you are seriously thinking about it? Have you spoken to your Mum? Of course, you’re not going to do it. I know you’re not. But why are you feeling this way?”

“No, I have not and I have felt like this for a while now,” she said, she licked her lips to bite her toast then stopped as I began to speak.

Acceptance

“Let’s go talk to someone about it, surely there’s something we can do to make it better. Does your doctor know? If this turns out to be a big joke I’m going to have to hand in my bff pendent and leave. I’m serious.”

“How kind,” she said, tilting her head evoking Dr. Phil for the sole purpose of mockery. “Really kind.”

Then came Anger.

"It's just shit, Anna. Don’t say that. It’s a shitty thing to say."

"It's really not, in fact it’s the opposite of shit. "

“Has this got anything to do with me?”

She laughed unnaturally. “Wow,” she said.

“I don’t know,” I said. “It just doesn’t make sense. I really don’t know how to take it.”

I watched her, she finally chomped into her toast. Chewed with a thoughtful expression then swallowed.

“Please just don’t do anything, okay” I said. The problem was that she’s not the attention seeking type, if I thought she was it might have been different. I cast about the room for a hint, for a clue like on video games when the key is just sitting out in the open nice and big on a table, there was no key or any hints. There was boxes stacked haphazardly in the corner and overflowing with junk. There were faded photographs on the wall from a time when people still printed photos. There were plants that didn’t seem to get enough water. But no clue.

“Why?”

“That’s a dumb question, Paul. I’m unwell and I want to die on my terms.”

This was as close as we had ever come to an actual argument. Well that’s not entirely true, but it’s not as though we had anything to argue about before.

“You’re just in a funk,” I said.

She looked down, defeated. There was a resignation in that gesture, a fatigue in the brittle way she held her hands and in the way she let her breath slowly drain from her lips.

“Okay,” I said. “I don’t understand and I’m going to do everything I can to talk you out of it but I know now and that’s what you wanted, right?” I cleared my throat quietly and looked away. “When do you plan on doing it?”

“Oh not yet,” she said.

I stood up and horsed my way around the dining room table, between the chairs and the stacked junk of Anna’s dining room. I rubbed her back with a flat palm and looked down.

“This is nice Paul, but let’s not make it awkward.” That special skill of hers again.

“Don’t do anything stupid, AC.”

“It’s probably the most logical decision I have ever made, but I know what you mean, PD.” She smiled and pushed me away. “So back to Olivia, how are things going?”

See the first thing you learned about Anna Clay, spanner meet works. She routinely made my girlfriend pissed at me, which by the way is no easy feat. It’s really not good form to leave someone alone after they have expressed a desire to end their life, but it is also not good form to leave your girlfriend waiting at the dentist whilst you visit another girl. So in the spirit of compromise, I stayed with Anna a little longer, picking cat hair from my sweater and catching her up on what she had missed from school. On the recycled hard wood table my phone shuffled, heralding another sullen missed call from my girlfriend. When the time came I called back.

“Hey, sorry I missed your calls, I’ve just been busy.”

“I have been waiting for half an hour,” Olivia said. “It’s just rude. If I knew you were going to take this long I would have driven myself.”

“I’m sorry Olivia, I just had to stop off on the way.”

"Well I'm across the road at the shopping centre now."

Sorry, got to run I mouthed to Anna.

"Okay, okay, I will be there in five."

Anna shot herself in the temple with her finger, her mouth falling agape and her eyes rolling. Then as if realising the symbol of her gesture, her neck tightened and her shoulders raised. Oops, she mouthed back.

“I’ll be there in five, just sit tight okay?”

“I’m not happy, Paul.”