my hair flying and windingaway from my head, the cold breathing ice into my bones. I let it pull me forward, forward towards water that sung and summoned, and the Thing opened my skin, scoring with a blade, put its lips to my flesh and sucked up the blood.
November
Audrey
Mum was standing over me when I woke up. She grabbed my arm and pulled up the sleeve before I could stop her.
‘What’s this, Audrey?’
‘I didn’t do it,’ I whispered, staring and cradling my arm against my chest. Crusts of blood. Pain stabbed at my eyes, my stomach, my thighs.
‘So explain it to me, then.’
‘I don’t know, Mum, I don’t know what happened.’
‘Come off it. You think I’m going to buy that after what I found in the bathroom, Audrey? Where did you get the blades?’
‘I didn’t do it,’ I told her. I knew where this was leading.
‘Rubbish,’ Mum said. Peter appeared in the door, pale, still wearing his pyjamas. He was watching us, so I tried to keep my voice calm and swung my legs out of bed.
‘Come on, Pete. Come on – let’s go and put the TV on or something.’
He nodded and let me lead him away and I heard Mum pick up the phone, asking for an emergency appointment. ‘Pinch, punch, first day of the month,’ I whispered, so no one would hear, especially my skin.
Why did the days have to get so dark? The doctor’s surgery. Mum at my side, staring at a magazine withoutturning the pages. She’d been reading the same article about some woman’s gastric band for forty minutes.
‘I don’t know why these bloody doctors don’t work weekends,’ she muttered. ‘We should have gone to A and E, Aud, yesterday. But I thought it was better if we saw Dr Caldwell. Don’t you think?’
I plucked at the wool on my jumper, twisting the threads into a tight knot. When my name was called, Mum stood first and led the way and I trailed in her wake, a little tug boat, bobbing on a line.
‘Hello, doctor,’ Mum said, sitting forward on her chair, legs folded, voice all pretend business-like. ‘Us again.’ The doctor smiled like she didn’t mind and nodded. ‘As I explained when we saw you before, Aud’s not doing well. She’s been battling depression since she was about thirteen; that’s three years now. God. Three years.’ Mum’s eyes were wide, like she couldn’t believe it. ‘Anyway, last year she began self-harming. We worked on it and she stopped, or at least I thought she had, but now it’s happening again. That’s why we’re here, doctor.’
The doctor looked at me. Her expression interested, intelligent.
‘Anything else you can tell me, Audrey? How do you feel generally at the moment? How are you sleeping?’
I yawned.
‘I’m not,’ I said, and stared out of the window. Bit at the insides of my cheeks. Mum chimed in, filling in the gaps.
‘That’s been a pretty constant thing. I mean, going back years, this insomnia. I don’t know, doctor, I’m no expert, but it’s obvious the treatment isn’t working.’
‘Yes?’ The doctor looked at me again. She took my hand. Very kind. Gentle. And my heart stopped for a moment as I looked at her and wondered. Mum was still talking.
‘Audrey started school very introverted, very shy. Never made friends, fell behind. There were times when she was off for months at a time. Lots of chest infections, breathing problems. I did my best to make things as normal as I could, but she got too used to being on her own, I think. And now we’ve got this depression, as if she’s internalized all her problems. Well, I’m no psychiatrist, like I said. That’s my interpretation. And the bullying at school doesn’t help. But now she’s lashing out, violent. She was in trouble at school last week and now she won’t go back.’
Mum looked at the doctor for confirmation, biting her lip. Dr Caldwell indicated with a little nod that she should go on.
‘I wonder if maybe Aud gets like this because she’s not like other girls. Not as bright. Maybe the
November
Audrey
Mum was standing over me when I woke up. She grabbed my arm and pulled up the sleeve before I could stop her.
‘What’s this, Audrey?’
‘I didn’t do it,’ I whispered, staring and cradling my arm against my chest. Crusts of blood. Pain stabbed at my eyes, my stomach, my thighs.
‘So explain it to me, then.’
‘I don’t know, Mum, I don’t know what happened.’
‘Come off it. You think I’m going to buy that after what I found in the bathroom, Audrey? Where did you get the blades?’
‘I didn’t do it,’ I told her. I knew where this was leading.
‘Rubbish,’ Mum said. Peter appeared in the door, pale, still wearing his pyjamas. He was watching us, so I tried to keep my voice calm and swung my legs out of bed.
‘Come on, Pete. Come on – let’s go and put the TV on or something.’
He nodded and let me lead him away and I heard Mum pick up the phone, asking for an emergency appointment. ‘Pinch, punch, first day of the month,’ I whispered, so no one would hear, especially my skin.
Why did the days have to get so dark? The doctor’s surgery. Mum at my side, staring at a magazine withoutturning the pages. She’d been reading the same article about some woman’s gastric band for forty minutes.
‘I don’t know why these bloody doctors don’t work weekends,’ she muttered. ‘We should have gone to A and E, Aud, yesterday. But I thought it was better if we saw Dr Caldwell. Don’t you think?’
I plucked at the wool on my jumper, twisting the threads into a tight knot. When my name was called, Mum stood first and led the way and I trailed in her wake, a little tug boat, bobbing on a line.
‘Hello, doctor,’ Mum said, sitting forward on her chair, legs folded, voice all pretend business-like. ‘Us again.’ The doctor smiled like she didn’t mind and nodded. ‘As I explained when we saw you before, Aud’s not doing well. She’s been battling depression since she was about thirteen; that’s three years now. God. Three years.’ Mum’s eyes were wide, like she couldn’t believe it. ‘Anyway, last year she began self-harming. We worked on it and she stopped, or at least I thought she had, but now it’s happening again. That’s why we’re here, doctor.’
The doctor looked at me. Her expression interested, intelligent.
‘Anything else you can tell me, Audrey? How do you feel generally at the moment? How are you sleeping?’
I yawned.
‘I’m not,’ I said, and stared out of the window. Bit at the insides of my cheeks. Mum chimed in, filling in the gaps.
‘That’s been a pretty constant thing. I mean, going back years, this insomnia. I don’t know, doctor, I’m no expert, but it’s obvious the treatment isn’t working.’
‘Yes?’ The doctor looked at me again. She took my hand. Very kind. Gentle. And my heart stopped for a moment as I looked at her and wondered. Mum was still talking.
‘Audrey started school very introverted, very shy. Never made friends, fell behind. There were times when she was off for months at a time. Lots of chest infections, breathing problems. I did my best to make things as normal as I could, but she got too used to being on her own, I think. And now we’ve got this depression, as if she’s internalized all her problems. Well, I’m no psychiatrist, like I said. That’s my interpretation. And the bullying at school doesn’t help. But now she’s lashing out, violent. She was in trouble at school last week and now she won’t go back.’
Mum looked at the doctor for confirmation, biting her lip. Dr Caldwell indicated with a little nod that she should go on.
‘I wonder if maybe Aud gets like this because she’s not like other girls. Not as bright. Maybe the
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