Letters from the Inside (16 page)

I had a good time this morning, carving Anita’s name into a chair in the common room. Set her up nicely. Then I had a good time this afternoon carving my own name into my arm with a big paper clip that I’d sharpened up a bit. Wish I’d sharpened it up more though.

Manna you really give me the shits with some of your questions. I mean, I’ve said all this before but you keep doing it. And that dumb joke about tunnelling in here.

You want to know what my perfect day would be? It’d be to get a machine gun and walk through here spraying the whole place with so much lead they could have a new floor. A lead-lined floor, with red colouring.

You know what my perfect day would be, you didn’t have to ask. To have a mum who you could sit down and talk to about school and boys and stuff, and then you’d muck around with your sister for a while and try on all her clothes, and then you’d give your brother some advice about his girlfriend, then you’d go out and play with your cat in the sun. Just all that sort of shit.

Do you know Sophie didn’t come and see me once when I was in Med Unit? Even though it’s easy to do — you go on sick parade and sneak in while you’re waiting. I went and saw her twice when she had her wisdom teeth out.

I couldn’t sleep last night. Nearly started writing you a letter in the middle of the night.

Sorry I’m in such an off mood.

Tracey

Dec 11

Dear Mandy,

Ignore yesterday’s letter. I’m still as raggy as hell but why should you suffer? I got two days PS last night, for yelling ‘fuck off’ at a hack when she told me to sandpaper yesterday’s graffiti. And someone got into my room and pissed on my bed — probably Anita.

Soph got busted with some bombers this morning so it’s all happening here. Searches everywhere. Dunno how she got them but it’s not hard. Christ, she’s dumb though — she had them in a little plastic pill bottle with her name on it, in case she lost them. Can you believe it? Good bust, Soph.

I gotta see the shrink tomorrow, don’t know why. Should be good for a laugh.

See you,

    
Trace

Dec 12

Dear Mandy,

Daily letters. Hope you’re grateful. I’ve got nothing much to do at the moment, so thought I might as well write again. Not that there’s anything to write about. School’s stuffed — I haven’t been going to many classes. It’s all slack anyway ’cos it’s the end of year, and most of the tutors are leaving. They can’t take the pace.

Saw the shrink today. She said I should go on a thing called the Anger Control Programme. These names, fair dinkum, they’ve got a name for everything.

I think I control my anger pretty well. I control it so well no-one even knows I’m angry. Until I explode like World War Three, that is. Then they have a fair idea.

I don’t think the shrink thought that was such a hot method though.

The thing is Manna — and don’t dare tell anyone this — I’m kind of caught. Because of what Raz and I did, I know I don’t deserve any sympathy. And if my smokes get knocked off, or a hack gives me PS or NP (no privileges) for something I didn’t do, or I start thinking about all the things I’m missing out on, then yeah, I get mad. I get so mad I want to scream and bite and kick and tear this place to pieces. I want to get on top of that wall and rub myself in the broken glass. But as soon as I start getting mad, a little voice inside me says ‘How can you complain? After what you did? You’ve got no right.’ And so I stop myself. I think ‘No matter how tough I’ve got it, I’m better off than. . .’ I don’t want to finish that sentence but you get the drift.

It gets me confused.

Sorry to keep hitting you with depressing letters. All I seem to be able to do at the moment is write to you. Don’t worry though. I’m cruising.

Catch you later

    
Trace

December 14

Dear Trace,

Gee the letters are flooding in suddenly. But they don’t add up to too good a picture. You sound like you’re off the rails Trace. What’s happening? Is there anything I can do? I don’t think I’ve ever been this helpless in my life.

It seems so trivial to write about anything here while you’re getting bruised around. Most of what happens in Acacia Park is trivia, except that today we finished school at last. It’s been a long term. I can’t believe I’m heading for Year 11. When I think how scared and envious I was of those big girls on the bus. . . but now I’m there I don’t feel too enormous, and my friends don’t look so old either.

I thought we’d have a wild end-of-year but it was quite flat. I was too tired to celebrate. A few people tried to work up some action but not much happened. There is a party tonight though, at Paul Bazzani’s — think I’ll go when I’ve finished this. Last weekend was fairly wild, with all the Year 12 turns. Adam’s been walking around in a coma ever since.

Tomorrow’s our first Softball game. Mum’s Army is playing in a holiday comp., so we can be full on for the big time in February.

Anyway, think I’ll go. My heart’s not in this — I’m too worried about what’s happening with you. I don’t want to tell you what I think you should do — how can I, when you’re the one who has to live in that place? But Trace, please be careful. Can’t you cut back a bit? Tread softly for a while? Let Anita take over if she wants? I know it’s easy for me to say this but I’d hate to see you get into any more trouble.

Take care — be well,

              Love,

            
Mandy

Dec 14

Dear Manna,

Just a note — one of the nurses said she’d post it, so you should get it sooner than usual. Anyway I thought I’d tell you I’m back in Med Unit, not for anything in particular. They just want to keep an eye on me or something. So, hope you’re well and having a good weekend.

Love,

Tracey

December 18

Dear Tracey,

Hope you got my messages — I rang twice, in case one didn’t get through. I’m getting better at the phone system. I’ve found out there’s a direct number to the Med Unit, so it’s easier.

The second time I got that nice one again, Miss Gruber. I thought I’d rung A Block somehow, but she said she was there to take sick parade. We had another goss. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t say much, ’cos I know that’s the way you’d want it. I’m not about to start blabbing to them about you. But you did say she was one of the nicer ones.

Anyway, she asked how I knew you, and I said only through letters, and that we write all the time. And she said ‘Well you must know her well by now.’ And I said ‘Yes, she’s about my best friend I guess.’ And she said ‘Well, she needs her friends.’ And I said ‘How is she?’ and she said ‘Depressed.’ And I said ‘I wish I could help.’ And she said ‘Well, keep writing. If I think of anything more practical, I’ll give you a call.’ So she took my name and number, as well as the message for you. Don’t imagine anything’ll come of it, but at least she seems to care.

But you know Trace, thinking about it later, I’m not so sure about this best friend stuff. Sometimes it seems like you’re not that interested in my life. Especially Steve. I don’t write about him much nowadays — I’m still sensitive about it. But a real friend would try and help more, wouldn’t she? This last week Steve’s been out of control. I think he’s scared about his results. But I’m scared of him. He slaps me, knees me, kicks me. I lock my door quite often when I’m in my bedroom now, that’s how much he scares me.

I suppose being in a place like Garrett must make you selfish in a way, because there’s only you to concentrate on.

Don’t take all this the wrong way. I do feel close to you — that’s the only reason I can say these things. I think true friends keep pushing each other up the ladder — they don’t just sit about at the same level.

Keep on keeping on,

  
M.

Dec 19

Dear Manna,

I’m still shaking, and grinning like an idiot. It’s only five minutes since I hung up. That was the biggest shock I’ve had in this place.

You know, that Miss Gruber, I was such a bitch to her last week. I called her every name you can think of, plus a few they don’t have at Acacia Park. It was because she turned the TV off two minutes before the end of ‘Hotel for Strangers’. I know it’s not that great a show but I wanted to see the end. Anyway, I’m embarrassed about it now.