The Suicide Notebook

Chapter 27

"You just keep adding these normal people into your life, don't you?" Fortune laughs, something bitter and cold deep in her throat. She looks as if she's deteriorated since I've last seen her. Her eyes are sunken into her skull, hollow cheekbones framed in yellowing skin. Her fingernails are bone white, devoid of any color to depict emotions. 

The only emotion she knows anymore is hate. She's half a ghost of the imagined friend I've had since the beginning. She's always been a bit poisonous, but looking at her know, it's almost like she's been bathing in cyanide. Her skin is cracked, lips bleeding, hair falling out in clumps. She's terrifying. 

"Your new little friend?" She asks again, staring at me with something akin to triumph in her hoarseness, "He did the funniest thing the other day."

"No," I mutter, "No no no. What'd you do to him?"

"It's not what I did," she mimes innocence, throwing her eyes open wide in fake shock, "I'm not real, remember?"

"Just tell me," I growl. 

"I was talking to myself," she explains, lips curling up into what could've been a sneer, "And he just happened to overhear. It's not like I was whispering in his ear. . .Oh wait, I was. Do you know what I told him?" She spits, revealing her dagger-like teeth.  

"I reminded him of everything he wanted to forget," she continues, not waiting for my answer, "He woke up crying this morning and couldn't figure out why."

"Honestly," a phantom of her old smile flashes across her shriveled face, "What a crybaby."

"What is wrong with you?" I ask, appalled, "Don't you know all that he's been through?"

"Well, of course," she answered, confused, "I heard you talking."

"Stop!"  I command her, "You can't keep doing this stuff!"

"Yes, I can," she responds, once again the monster, "I don't need you. I don't need to pretend anymore, I have power!"

"Get out," I demand, "And don't come back."

"But," she protests, frowning, "We could've done it together. You and I? We could rule this school! Don't you hate what they've done to you?"

"Yes, but-"

"Make them pay," she hisses, "Every last one of them."

"Out," I repeat. Ice escapes from my lips, cascading around her to form a thin, crystal sheet. She shakes it off, snow collecting on the dingy carpet. More ice races towards her and she steps away in fear. Frost gathers on her eyelashes, in her hair, across her inhuman smile. She scampers backward, slamming the door in an attempt not to get caught in the avalanche.

As soon as she's gone, my breathing comes in short, fast gasps. How could she do this? How could I let it get to that? I thought my imaginary friend was harmless, a lifeboat in this crazy school. There's no truth left in my mind, no answer to a problem I can't believe I created. 

I need to find Connor. He's not in his dorm or the cafeteria. 

"Hey," I grab Silver after bumping into him in the crowded hallway, "Have you seen Connor?"

"No," he shakes his head, concern clouding his sparkling eyes, "Is something wrong?"

"I-I'm not sure," I push past him, scanning the corridor again. I have to sprint for class, so I don't miss it. By the time first period ends, I'm beyond worried. Second and third drag by, the clocks iron hand barely moving its leaden legs. I burst into Ms.Marie's with my eyes racing to Connor's empty seat. 

He's not here. 

I bite my nails through the next three minutes, finally able to breathe again when he slides into the desk beside me just as the bell rings. 

"Where were you?" I question, "What happened?"

"Nothing," he glances at me with uncertainty, "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I reply, "Sorry."

"I did have a kind of weird dream last night," he admits. 

"Really?" I inquire, hoping to the stars that it's not what I think it is.

"I was back in my house on that first night," he explains, "And there was another long line of uncaring do-gooders. One after another, the line never ended."

"Yikes," I grimace, trying to push down my rising dread.

"I'm okay," he assured me, "I called my girlfriend. We talked it over for a while, I'm good now." 

"I hope so,"  I say, relief flooding my worry.

"Yeah, but. . ." he squints skeptically, "How'd you know?"

"Just a weird feeling," I lie. He nods and starts reading over his lines again. 

He acts okay for the rest of the class, then won't even touch his food at lunch. He calls his mum and tells her he's just having an 'off day', but I know the truth. 

I've created a monster, one that I don't quite know how to stop.