Choking Game (3 page)

FOUR

Teenage Revenge
@TeenageRevenge
an angry unicorn threw sparkles at me − they cut my eyes like a serrated knife − from that day on all I could see was gray

~Why don't you like hashtags? Look at all these followers you’ve got. Over two hundred people stumbled over my hashtags. Don't you think that's awesome?~

"It's awesome."

~Thanks for the overdose of enthusiasm. Is that really all there is? The gray?~

"Pretty much."

~If that's the case, I’ve got some words I want to use here. How do you like this tweet?~

Teenage Revenge
@TeenageRevenge
an angry unicorn threw sparkles at me − they cut my eyes like a serrated knife − from that day on all I could see was gray #depression #loss #loneliness #unicorn

"Unicorn? Why did you put a unicorn in there?"

~You're right. I should have tweeted BadUnicorn.~

"What?"

~You tweeted that it scratched your eyes, didn't you?~

"You know I didn't mean it like that."

~Then what exactly did you mean? Why don't you come out and say it for what it is?~

"What is this? Some kind of a psychobabble? What do you want me to say?"

~What did the unicorn do to you?~

"Go stuff yourself."

~What did the unicorn do to you?!~

"What difference does it make?"

~You wimpy little shit! Blaming your gray world on a poor unicorn! Look at me! There's nothing wrong with your vision! Look at me and tell me what color I am!~

"Crazy! You're crazy color! Leave me alone!"

~Not before you tell me what color
crazy
is.~

"It's the ugliest orange you can imagine. It's like a rotten orange. It has that musty, moldy, citrusy smell. It tastes so bad, your jawbone goes stiff and your mouth is sour even if you don't eat it."

~So, I'm a rotten citrus fruit, hm?~

"Ha, ha, ha...."

~Very funny. Thanks a lot, pal. After all I've done for you, I'm nothing but a rotten, moldy orange. That's great.~

"Sorry."

~No, you're not. I don't care, though. I still want to know why you're blaming the unicorn. That poor horse with a horn on its head would never cut your eyes so bad they'd turn colorblind. So what is it exactly that makes you see everything gray? There's nothing wrong with your eyes. I know that. Tell me, please. You owe it to yourself.~

"Stop bugging me. Yes, I'm lonely and it's depressing. Okay? Are you happy now?"

~I'm happy for the unicorn. That poor horse didn't deserve such a bad rap.~

"I'm tired. I don't wanna talk anymore."

~Go to bed. You're no fun. We'll continue tomorrow.~

Alex Wilson retweeted
Teenage Revenge
@TeenageRevenge
an angry unicorn threw sparkles at me − they cut my eyes like a serrated knife − from that day on all I could see was gray #depression #loss #loneliness #unicorn

~Hey! Look at this! Someone retweeted our unicorn tweet to nine thousand and twenty-eight followers! And look at your account! You got more than a hundred new followers since last night!~

"Who cares."

~I care! Now we have over three hundred.~

"We? Last time I checked this was my account."

~When is the last time you checked? I'm the one doing all the checking. You haven't looked at Twitter all day today.~

"I was at school. I was busy."

~Yeah, right. Anyway, we need to finish our talk.~

"Finish what?"

~What happened to Stanley.~

"What about him? You know everything. I don't need to go there."

~I think you do.~

"No! I don't!"

~You see?~

"You see what?"

~You see how badly you need to go back and tell me everything.~

"You already know everything. You've been there."

~Tell me. Please.~

"I can't."

~Why not?~

"It hurts too much. See? You're making me cry all over again."

~Maybe you haven't cried enough.~

"Are you kidding me? Ever since I learned he died I’ve cried myself to sleep just about every night. Don't you remember what happened at the funeral? Dad had to take me outside I was that loud. I was so out of it!"

~Please. Please tell me.~

"I wouldn't even know where to begin."

~How about the gymnasium? The morning you got off the bus and went to the gym to wait for the bell?~

"It was supposed to be like any other day. We got off the bus and went to wait in the gym for the bell before we were allowed to go to the classrooms. Even though it was already 8:40, the bell didn't ring. I was Googling some stuff when I overheard Nikki and Chloe. They were sitting in the row behind me, and I heard every word they said to each other. It went like this:

"I had the weirdest dream last night,"
Nikki said.

"Tell me,"
Chloe said.

"I was at home and someone rang my doorbell. I opened the front door and there was Stanley standing outside. He looked kind of sad. I don't think I said anything to him. He just looked at me and said, 'I'm going to miss you, Nikki.' That's it. He disappeared before I could say anything,"
Nikki said.

"Are you two still dating?"
Chloe said.

"No,"
Nikki said,
"we're just good friends."

"You sure about that? I mean, you're dreaming about the guy."
I turned around and saw Chloe shrug and wink at Nikki. They both giggled.

"I was getting bored because it was now 9 a.m. and still no bell. People were kind of looking around when the gym door opened and the principal, both assistant principals, the school counselor and pretty much all of the teachers marched in like a procession. They seemed pretty grim. We were confused, thinking someone did something illegal and they came to investigate or something. We didn't know what was happening. And then the principal spoke out. I still remember her every word. I was in such shock, I think my mind remembered everything so that I would listen to it later because there was no way I was willing to believe what the principal said right there and then."

~What did the principal say?~

"We have very sad news. One of our students, Stanley Mannick, died last night. It was a tragic accident. We do not have much detail, but those of you who need help will be able to get it in our school. We have counselors from the whole county who will be stationed in various offices. Please do not hesitate to come and talk to them. We encourage each and every one of you to seek their counsel. They are professionals trained in helping you in the grieving process and in everything you may need in the next couple of weeks. There won't be any lessons in classrooms today. You are all encouraged to speak to one another, to your teachers, and, of course, to our trained counselors. E-mails went out to all of your parents. Now let's take a moment and remember Stanley in silence."

~I'm so sorry.~

"Ahhh...."

~Here, come here. Hush, baby, hush. Here's a tissue. Blow your nose.~

"Ahhh!"

~I guess you haven't cried enough. It's good for you. Here, let me hold your heart. It's still bleeding.~

"Why? Why did you make me do this?"

~So that I could see where the hole is.~

"What hole?"

~The hole in your heart. The one that's still bleeding.~

"Ahhh.... What are you talking about?"

~I haven't seen you cry this bad since Stanley's funeral. In fact, every time your eyes would well up with tears, you'd shut them so no one would see what was happening. Crying yourself to sleep is not the same as letting your tears flush your pain when you're wide awake.~

"What's wrong with not wanting others see me cry?"

~What's wrong? Can't you see? You shut your eyes to your own self! You shut them to me! You won't let me see what's hurting you. You don't want to find what's missing! You won't let yourself grieve the loss of your friendship. You're scared to free yourself from the ghost of your one and only true friend.~

"No! That's not true!"

~Of course it is, and you know it. Look at me. Look at me!~

~Okay, good. Now sit back down, wipe your eyes, and let's start all over again.~

"Start what?"

~The day at the gym. You said so yourself—you blocked everything out. You were in shock. Your mind had to remember everything so that you could listen to it later because there was no way you were willing to believe what the principal had said right there and then. It's time to listen. Both you and me. You have to do it. Remember, you want to die for crying out loud! How can you do it if you haven't dealt with the one death that still lingers in your thoughts? You owe it to Stanley, and you owe it to yourself. Face it, make peace with it, and let it go. You must first forgive Stanley for leaving you. You must properly bury the memory of his life if he is to become immortal in your heart.~

"I have no idea what you're trying to say."

~Do you want to die or not?~

"Yes. Of course, I do."

~Fine. Suit yourself. But I think you'd be making a huge mistake if you refuse to go over Stanley's death in detail and keep your feelings locked in as if it happened to someone else.~

"What are you talking about?"

~DEATH! I'm talking about DEATH! Why are you so hell-bent on dying? I'll tell you why! You think it's the only way out! You even think it's glorious!~

"I never said that!"

~You didn't have to. You still did not give me a single good reason why you want to die. I think you don't have a good enough reason. That's why you're still listening to me. That's why you're still buying time. That's why you're hoping I'll talk you out of it. Isn't it? Of course it is. It's all of the above. Check.

~Well, I got news for you. I won't. I won't talk you out of it. I will not be your way out of this. Not anymore. I've had enough. I've had enough of listening to your pathetic, sorry ass attitude. You want to die? Be my guest. The only thing I'll make you do, though, is go back and remember every single thought that went through your pathetic, lonely mind after Stanley died.~

"Why? Why would I do that?"

~I'm giving you a chance to witness what it may be like after you're gone. That's what this is all about, isn't it? To make everyone pay? To shock everyone into grief and confusion, just like Stanley did. Here's the fact: YOU WILL BE DEAD. You will not be able to see or hear any of this. Once you die, you're gone. There's no guarantee you'll turn up as a ghost somewhere like Stanley in Nikki's dream. You'll be gone, and you won't be able to hear anyone talking about you or see any of the posts people will write for weeks, or even months if you're lucky. So, tell me about Stanley. Your story may end up being a copycat of his. I'm giving you a chance to experience what it might be like when you die while you're still alive.~

"This is so insane!"

~Is it? Is it any more insane than committing suicide?~

"Okay. I'll try. Ugh, this is crazy. Where do I begin?"

~How about when the principal left the gym?~

"Chloe gasped and said,
It wasn't a dream. He came to say goodbye to you, Nikki.
Nikki started to sob uncontrollably, and so did I. I didn't even need to look around the gym. Pretty much everyone was either in shock or crying. It didn't matter if you knew him or not. He was a teenager like us. He could have been any one of us. I think that's what hit home. The fact that it took so little. One minute, it was school as usual. The next, we'd never be the same."

FIVE

Teenage Revenge
@TeenageRevenge
I wish we could turn back time

~Let's take a look at your followers. Hm, except for this one, they're all teenagers. Close to a thousand now. I bet you that dude's retweet helped since he had so many followers. That's awesome.~

"What's so awesome about it?"

~Don't you like followers? Everybody likes followers.~

"I don't care."

~Well, I do. Here, I'll tweak this. I want even more followers.~

Teenage Revenge
@TeenageRevenge
I wish we could turn back time #time #TimeTravel #regrets #sadness #heartbreak #teens #anger #mistakes #suicide #TeenSuicide #follow

"I don't like your hashtags."

~Too bad. I tweeted it. You need to stop fidgeting. You were supposed to talk about Stanley. So, no more tweeting. Go.~

"The whole day was a blur. I remember walking through hallways and everyone looked like a ghost, hunched over, quiet, wide open, glazed eyes. It was like a zombie movie set—eerily surreal. When I got to class, most of the kids were sitting in a circle holding hands. I'd never imagined all those kids coming together like that. You know, the jocks, the pretty girls, the nerds, the losers, all of us were doing the same thing: crying, holding onto each other, scared and completely shocked. Ahh...."

~Don't worry, I'm still holding your heart. It's lost a lot of blood, but your tears are helping to wash it away.~

"Our homeroom teacher, Ms. Kelly, didn't really know what to say. She talked about pain and coping, but she barely held it together herself. In the end, she excused herself. Something about being a mom. She ran out of the classroom. One of the counselors came in later, but I really have no clue what he said to us. Like I said, the entire day was a blur. I didn't block it on purpose. I think everyone felt the same."

~I don't think you blocked it. It's a trick of the mind. Something like self-preservation or a shock absorber, if you will. It's a good thing.~

"By the time I got home Mom already knew. She was bawling her eyes out. I've never seen her cry like that. It was weird. My mom didn't even know Stanley that well. I mean, she saw him a couple of times and maybe I mentioned him, but she never talked to him or anything like that. Yet, she was so out of it, she made me feel even worse. My whole world collapsed. I shut my bedroom door, and all I could think about was Stanley's death."

~What color is Stanley's
death?
~

"Brown. Dark Brown. Like mud and ashes and dried up blood all mixed together. That's all I saw around me. The dirt he was going to be buried in, the ashes he'd turn into, the blood that was pouring out of my heart just thinking about him. Ahhh...."

~Here, take the tissue. I'm holding your heart tightly. It's beating faster, but I think it's bleeding a little less now.~

"My head was hurting like never before. I wasn't crying, I was howling. I didn't care if the whole world knew how horrible the pain inside me was."

~Death isn't pretty, is it? How does she look like to you?~

"Scary."

~What color is
scary?
~

"Yellow. Bright yellow, almost gold."

~Yellow? Gold?~

"It's so bright, it blinds you. When you're blind you can't see what scares you. If you can't see it, you're scared a little less."

~What else does she look like?~

"I wrote about her the day Stanley died."

~Can I see it?~

"Here, you can read this on your own."

Her hollow eyes pierce through my mind, carving a void that grows within my fading self. She’s inching forward, drifting through, her indistinct body cloaking me in a soft haze, numbing my senses, weighing my eyes. A hissing hum escapes from her silent voice, sealing my ears from the calling of reason. A sweet breeze blows from her empty lips, poisoning the air I’m trying to breathe. I’m blinded by darkness, veiled in a curtain of thoughtlessness, covered by a blanket of pain, buried alive in a tomb of emptiness.

She’s whispering in my ear,
'Death is not final. I am the beginning of life. Life thereafter.'

She raises her arms, embracing me gently. I close my eyes to look inside. All I see is darkness; my soul is so wicked, it laughs mockingly in the face of my date. A date with Death that may last forever. My unconscious mind allows my date to embrace me, to take me away from my being.

'It’s easier to believe death is not final. Death is beginning of life thereafter,'
she whispers.

My Death is gentle and soothing. It’s only the moment it comes that’s raw. Only a moment, but it seems to last forever when the pain runs through my veins and burns like liquid steel. It’s like drowning in a shallow water, senseless. I'm unable to escape. It’s like flying and falling at the same time; like inhaling fire and exhaling ice.

The moment I surrender to Death is lonely. It burns itself into my core like an imprint marking the end, like a seal of fate.

She's whispering to me again,
'It’s comforting to think death is not final. Death is beginning of life thereafter. Life postponed, until next time.'

~It's as poetic as it is creepy. I love it and hate it at the same time. I must say, MJ, you got some pretty strange ideas of what Death is like.~

"I don't write music and lyrics anymore, but I still like to write stuff like this in my journal sometimes. I really didn't give it that much thought. I began writing, and the words just came to me. Now that I read it again, it does sound a little creepy."

~You wrote this the day you learned about Stanley's death? How come I don't remember you doing that?~

"I think we disconnected. Like I said, my world crumbled, and everything in it was a blur. You were a blur."

~I was scared. I worried about you. I watched how much pain you were in. I guess I didn't see anything else.~

"See? You were scared. It blinded you, too. I was right. Scary is bright yellow. It blinds us all."

~Was the day of Stanley's death the first time you started to think about suicide?~

"I guess it was. Yeah, definitely."

~That's what I thought. What you wrote wasn't about Stanley. It was about you. Do you understand now what I meant by you not burying your best friend? Even when he died, all you could write about was your own death. How could you be so self-centered?~

"Self-centered? What did you expect me to write about? How he died? I had no clue how he died! No one told us! We had to piece it together with bits and pieces of information. I was going insane! I could not even picture my one and only friend in the last minutes of his life! For days I could not even find out how and where he died! No one would tell us! It was horrible! It was like he still lingered around because none of us knew what really happened!"

~Hush, baby. Your heart is beating too fast again. You must still be very angry.~

"Angry? How about mad as hell!? How would you like to think about your best friend not knowing if he was okay somewhere in the terrible, lonely darkness?"

~I'm so sorry. I was with you the whole time back then, but I had no idea how you felt. We must have really disconnected. I'm really sorry.~

"You know nothing about me, but you're too damn busy criticizing me, like everyone else."

~You're not helping. Getting to know you is like pulling teeth. I already said that. We're supposed to be one—you with your egotistical mind and me, your often neglected soul. But you're making it awfully difficult for me to want to stay with you. I'm all about space and expansion. When you die, I'll become a part of something much bigger. Eternal. To tell you the truth, I often feel the same way you do because a soul is miserable when it is restricted by rules and obligations. But for now, we have to make peace with one another. I wish you listened. No matter how much I scream, you choose to ignore me. I am at a disadvantage because I have no hands I can use to smack you or legs I could kick you with. I'm but an inner voice trapped deep within you, a voice that whispers or shouts at you and never leaves, no matter how much you want me to. How did we separate? It seems we grew so much apart, it's like we do not even belong in the same being. It's sad, especially now that you want to end this life. I honestly want to understand you better. Will you let me? Will you answer my questions?~

"Whatever."

~That's good enough for me. Why was it so important for you to know how Stanley died?~

"Wouldn't you wanna know? Imagine you found out someone you really cared about died. The first thing you'd ask would be
How?
Don't you think?"

~Probably.~

"Of course you would. Isn't it what everyone asks? In order to believe someone is dead, you must know how and when. That's the only thing that marks the real end. Especially if the end was not supposed to happen."

~What do you mean it was not supposed to happen?~

"Are kids or teens supposed to die?"

~Oh.~

"You see what I'm getting at? If someone who's young suddenly dies, you know something went wrong. And the less you know about what it was, the more desperate you are to find out. It could be an accident, suicide, even murder. He could have died instantly, not so quickly or even suffered something unimaginable. You simply must know because that
not knowing
can drive you crazy. You start imagining the worst, the most horrible death there is, and once you imagine the most horrible death there is, even the worst possible kind springs to mind. That's how insanity gradually sucks her tentacles onto your mind, slowly pulling you even deeper into the darkness of your soul. Your vivid imagination is all you’ve got left, and you begin to believe your worst nightmares."

~Is that what happened to you? And, by the way, you really think I'm dark? Oh, my gosh, that's mean! Why would you say
the darkness of your soul?
~

"Honestly, I don't know. People say that a lot."

~Well, that's a pretty irresponsible statement, especially considering most people have no idea what a soul is.~

"Maybe they don't, but I think I do."

~Seriously? Indulge me, please!~

"It's my irritating inner voice that never leaves or shuts up no matter how many times I ask to be alone . It's my subconscious self that lurks in my sleep and waking hours. It's the ethereal being that is nowhere and everywhere inside and around me. It's my companion, my enemy, and my conscience all in one."

~I'm not sure I like your description of me, but I don't hate it either. So, not knowing what happened to Stanley must have really done a number on you.~

"Yeah. I spent all night wide awake thinking every possible horrible thing that could have happened. I believed the worst so much, I cried as if I was the one who died. My mind kept replaying Stanley's death over and over until I believed I was mad. I wasn't the only one thinking like that. There were others going through the same thing. I saw all kinds of posts people were posting. So many questions, almost no answers."

~What do you think is the color of
insanity?
~

"It's not one color. It's many colors whirling together. There are so many colors, you can't tell them apart. As soon as you think you recognize one, it turns into something else. You try to concentrate on which color makes the most sense, but they're all there, twisting and swirling around in one wild, crazy mess."

~When did you guys finally learn about what happened to Stanley?~

"A couple of days later we were told he killed himself at home. So we thought it was a suicide. We still didn't know how. It wasn't until another day passed that we finally learned the truth."

~I know. I must have come out of my own blur. I remember so little, and what's even worse, I remember almost none of your anxiety. It's wild how you blocked me out so completely, you probably didn't realize you did it. Tell me the rest.~

"Why? You know the rest."

~I already told you, you have to go over the details if you ever want to properly bury your friend.~

"He was playing this game. I don't know how because it's something you do with others watching over you making sure you're safe. I don't know how he did it by himself. You tie a rope around your neck, and two other people each hold the end of the rope. They pull on the two ends until the rope tightens so much around your neck you cannot breathe. They wait until you black out. Usually, there's a third person to catch you when you pass out so that you don't fall and get hurt. Then they loosen the loop so you can get some air and come to."

~You call that a game?~

"Whatever."

~No! Not ‘whatever!’ It got your friend killed! How can you say
whatever?
~

"Be quiet! Don't you think I know how dangerous it is? You don't do it alone. You're supposed to be with others to keep an eye on you, okay?"

~Suffocating yourself until you black out is supposed to be okay when you do it in groups? Are you out of your mind?~

"I've never done it! Stop judging me! There's a lot worse stuff people do to get high, trust me."

~Like I don't know it.~

"So why are you yelling at me? I thought you said we were having a quiet conversation!"

~No, we're not! It's hard to keep calm when you talk about something so stupid, so pointless, something that can get you killed, like it was the most normal thing kids do these days!~

"I'm not saying it's normal. We all know it's dangerous; but, in a way, that's why we do it. Well, some of us."

~So Stanley choked himself to death?~

"He didn't mean to. What I heard later was that he was alone in his room, and he tied one end of the rope to a door knob. As he blacked out he fell, and the rope tightened instead of eased. He suffocated. I suppose he never even realized he was dying, at least I hope he didn't. I'd like to believe he was high, blacked out, and he floated into oblivion as he died."

~It was such a senseless death. It should not have ever happened. Stanley did not intend to die.~

"That's the worst thing about it. He didn't want to end his life. He was a great, happy kid. He had everything going for him. He was living a happy life. One mistake, one silly decision to get a little high, and his life was gone, just like that. It still eats me up more than anything else."