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Authors: Caroline Crane

Tags: #party, #feminism, #high school, #bullying, #date rape, #popularity, #underage drinking, #attempted suicide, #low selfesteem, #football star

Blackout (19 page)

BOOK: Blackout
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The policeman must have meant they were
building a case. Good for them. Make it really, really strong,
guys.

* * * *

Kelsey went to sleep before Velda left. It
was hard to sleep when she was in pain, but staying awake was
harder still. She tried to imagine getting to the window with a
broken leg. And the nurses were right out there keeping an eye on
everything.

She turned her head as a policeman walked
into the room. For a moment, she was confused. Was she under
arrest? Maybe it was illegal to try to kill yourself in a
hospital.

He smiled. He had very green eyes.

“Kelsey?”

He knew her name. Of course he knew her name
if he was there to arrest her.

He stood next to her bed. “Kelsey, I’m from
Southbridge.”

What could she say? She couldn’t even talk.
Her vocal cords were all rusted.

He pulled over a chair, the only one in the
room. “Do you mind if I talk to you for a couple of minutes?”

Did she mind? She had no idea. Her brain was
rusted, too. All she could do was blink. The rest of her face
didn’t move.

He talked anyway, whether she minded or
not.

“Someday,” he said, “I’d like to ask you
about what happened the night of the Lakeside party. But that can
wait till you’re feeling stronger.”

She didn’t want to talk about it, ever. She
wanted it not to have happened. Everything would be so different if
it hadn’t happened.

“So we’ll talk about what’s been going on
after that.” He gave the chair another tug. It couldn’t get any
closer.

He said, “I understand you took a plunge out
of a window the other night.”

She thought he was watching to see what she
would do or say. She felt something happen, maybe a little flicker
on her face. Other than that, she didn’t do or say anything.

What was there to say? He already knew. She
thought he sort of understood.

“Did you do it on purpose?” he asked.

Of course, she had. How could it happen
otherwise?

“Actually,” he said, “I know you did. I just
thought it was polite to ask. You could always say it was an
accident.”

He smiled. He had an attractive smile.

“In any case,” he went on, “you survived it.
Something wants you to live. It could be something in yourself or
something from outside. I know what happened at the Brandons’ house
seems like the worst thing that could have happened and it probably
was, but it will fade. At least a little. It didn’t get much past
those boys who did it. The pictures they took are already off the
Internet. You have nothing to worry about there.”

She thought they could be put back on the
Internet, unless they’d been destroyed. She could not imagine
anyone doing that. Probably the police would be watching. And
whoever took them off must have seen them. How awful that that was
the legacy she would leave.

“Those boys,” he said, “it might have been
four. We’re rounding them up as we speak. They’ll probably get some
jail time, so don’t worry about them. No one admires them for what
they did. They’re trying to claim they were drunk, but who got them
drunk? They did that to themselves. They have no defense, but you
have your whole life ahead of you. Don’t throw it away. Talk to
somebody about what happened and get it clear in your mind that you
are blameless. They’re the ones who did it. They’re the ones who
should be ashamed. Not you.”

He was trying, but he didn’t understand.
Nobody understood. She lay there and stared alternately at the wall
and at him.

His eyes traveled over her. Such green eyes.
He said, “Kelsey, you are so beautiful.”

That did it. He was all blarney. She closed
her eyes.

He insisted. “You really are. You have an
ethereal look about you. That shouldn’t be wasted. I want you to
live, and go to college, and have a wonderful life. Please don’t
throw it away. It’s so precious. And you haven’t done anything
wrong.”

She tried again to speak. Her voice came out,
very faintly. “I . . . got . . . drunk.”

“So?”

“I . . . shouldn’t . . .”

“But that’s not wrong. What they did was
wrong, not what you did. You have a right to get drunk, as long as
you don’t try to drive. They, too, had a right to get drunk, but
not whatever else they did. And the law will punish them for
it.”

He looked over at the window where the desk
was. He nodded to whoever was out there. He even put the chair back
where it belonged.

“So,” he said, “are you going to live?” He
looked at her very intently. He was trying to extract a
promise.

She didn’t answer.

He hesitated for another moment. Then he bent
down and smoothed back her hair.

She felt his touch long after he left.

She wasn’t beautiful. He made it up, just
like the touch. To keep her alive. It was a policeman’s job to keep
people alive.

She wondered if she did have an ethereal
look. She was skinny enough. And pale. She hated her hair.

She could try letting it grow longer, like
Glynis Goode’s. Then she remembered she wouldn’t be around to do
that.

Still, she thought about it. She had nothing
else to do besides think.

Her own hair had a definite curl. Glyn’s was
just frizzy. Would her own hair frizz if it were longer, or would
it be a mass of curls? Either way, she didn’t think she would like
it. But it might be better than it was now, cut short into a curly
mat. They would have to bury her with that curly mat.

It was just as well. That was the way people
knew her.

How much longer? How could she get to the
window with a broken leg?

She could hop. It wasn’t far. Would the
window open? And what about people always being at that desk just
outside her room? She was thinking so hard she didn’t realize how
much time had passed, until Velda came in.

“How’s my sweet little sister?” Velda kissed
her forehead.

They were all so gentle with her. All afraid
she would try it again.

They would get over it. She never would. She
was glad she had been drunk and wished she had been
unconscious.

The day after it happened, she had been
bleeding. She supposed some people knew that. Her family and the
people at the hospital. She hadn’t wanted to use a tampon. It would
have hurt too much.

Velda was talking. Velda always talked, even
when she had nothing to say. She made it up as she went along.

“How’s my sweet little sister doing? Did that
policeman ever get in here? What did he have to say?”

She was probably curious, but didn’t seem to
expect an answer. She just talked.

“It’s a lovely day outside. Warm, but not too
humid. If you weren’t in ICU we could get a wheelchair and I’d take
you outside so you could enjoy it.”

Not only in ICU, but attached to all those
tubes.

Was
she attached to all the tubes? She
could see the one in her arm. It was in a different place from
where she took it out. They’d had to re-puncture her.

The other one—she could feel that, too, with
her hand. That one was easier to take out.

If only Velda would leave. Then she would
have to watch carefully for when nobody was at the desk. And
somebody nearly always was.

But she didn’t want to wait until she was
back in a regular room. She was lucky to have a window and only
hoped it would open.

Velda asked a question. She hadn’t been
listening. She tried to shrug an indifferent answer but it hurt her
shoulder. She was hurt in so many places. Why did she have to hit
that roof on her way down? She had noticed it just in time and
tried to push her way beyond it. She wasn’t strong enough.

“Would you like that?” Velda asked again.

Kelsey tried to form the words with her lips.
“Like what?”

“To go out walking, if they’ll let us.”

“Too . . . many . . . tubes.”

“Most of the wheelchairs have a prong to hang
an IV bag from. If they’ll let us, we could do that.”

“No . . . thank you . . . too tired.”

“I see. Well, maybe another time.”

Velda was spending nearly all day, every day,
with her. Kelsey felt tears come into her eyes.

Velda leaped out of her chair. “Oh, honey!”
She had a tissue out, and blotted the tears.

 

 

Chapter
Sixteen

 

It had to be now. Kelsey couldn’t wait until
she was back in a regular room. She wanted to get it over with.

If only they didn’t watch so closely in ICU.
At least the nursing staff seemed a little smaller at night. Or
spread a little thinner. All she had to do was wait, even if it
took days. Or nights.

She slept enough in the daytime so she could
stay awake at night, and watch. And when she saw a chance, she
would have to move fast, before anyone came.

They must have known what she had done
earlier. Why did they give her a cubicle with a window? Was it the
only one available? Or did they want to see if she would try it
again? If she did, and failed, what would they do? Tie her to the
bed?

Velda said the ICU was one floor higher than
she had been that other time. She couldn’t see out of the window to
know what was down there. Maybe a parking lot. That would be good.
Nice hard pavement.

She wondered if it would hurt. It hadn’t the
first time, when she hit, but then it did. She had been too shocked
at first. She’d expected to die instantly.

Did she really want to do it?

She had to. She couldn’t live with the memory
of that night. In spite of what the policeman said, it was not
going away and it never would. She began to cry.

She didn’t know how long she cried before
Velda came with a tissue.

“Poor little sweetie,” Velda said. “Try to
think of positive things. Let’s see, now. How about college? You
could probably start there in January. I know it looked nicer when
we saw it last spring, but you’ve never been afraid of winter. And
it will get to be spring in just a few months.”

Kelsey closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear all
that cheerful talk. And she wasn’t going to college anyway. She was
going out that window as soon as she had a chance.

What if she got all her tubes out, and
managed to hop over there, and the window wouldn’t open? She needed
a backup plan. But she couldn’t think of anything else she could do
in a place like this. And she wasn’t going to wait until she was
out of it. She would just have to break the window, if she could
find something to do it with. And then she would have to move
really fast because the noise would bring them running.

Her eyes were closed. She didn’t hear what
Velda was saying. And finally she did go to sleep.

She woke when Velda said goodbye.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetie. I hope you
have a good rest. Maybe tomorrow they’ll take some of those tubes
out. I don’t think you need them.”

Kelsey didn’t think so either. Maybe they
only did it so they could charge more.

She tried to sleep again. It wasn’t dark yet.
Velda left because she wanted to see her husband now and then.
Kelsey found she couldn’t sleep, and stopped trying.

What if the window didn’t open? What would
she do? She could get back in bed but she couldn’t replace the
tubes. You couldn’t do that by yourself. It required special
know-how. She didn’t think she could explain it.

They would know, of course. She didn’t need
to explain and maybe she just wouldn’t. She would close her eyes
and stay silent. They would tie her to the bed. They would never
trust her again, but she would find a way. They couldn’t keep her
in the ICU forever.

A nurse came in with a snack. Lime Jell-O.
Lime was Kelsey’s favorite flavor, but not tonight. She was too
impatient. She only wanted to get it over with. Already she could
feel herself staggering across the floor. Or hopping. She would
have to do it that way, but not much of it. There was hardly any
space to cover. The cubicle was barely wide enough for the bed and
chair and for someone to walk around the bed. The aides and nurses
and whoever else had to, mostly Velda.

She might have to wait until she was out of
the cubicle, but she didn’t want to. She wanted it over with, once
and for all.

She lay thinking of what she would do if she
couldn’t open the window. She thought for a long time and didn’t
come up with anything. When she woke up from that, it was fully
dark outside. She wished she had a clock.

A nurse was sitting at the desk. They always
were. At some point that nurse might get up and go to the bathroom.
People had to do that sometimes.

The desk, of course, was lit. Kelsey saw her
pick up the telephone and talk. Her lips moved. Kelsey’s door was
closed and her own room was semi-dark, with light coming in from
the desk area. She saw a male nurse come in and talk to the girl at
the desk. That made at least two of them on duty. She would have to
wait until she got out of ICU, but she continued watching. Just to
be sure.

The male nurse left the desk. She saw him
enter another cubicle. She wondered how many cubicles there were.
It looked like six. They probably put her in ICU because the
windows didn’t open. Or maybe to watch her.

The male nurse left his patient and entered
another cubicle. A light went on. He came to the door of it and
summoned the desk nurse. The nurse got up and went into the cubicle
with him,

Now was her chance!

She was of two minds. She mustn’t waste her
chance, but what if it wasn’t long enough? How would she
explain?

She would have to hurry. She ripped the
adhesive off the hand where the tube was. She tore off the whole
bandage and pulled out the tube. It hurt like blazes but she didn’t
care. This was her only chance.

Did she really want to do it?

She asked herself that but didn’t stop
getting ready. She pulled out the lower tube, the one that drained
her urine. That was easier.

BOOK: Blackout
13.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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