Dark Season: The Complete Box Set (145 page)

"When I found her," he continues, resisting my attempt to lead him away, "I went to get some help. I knew it was too late, but I thought maybe there was a chance. At first, no-one believed me. They thought I was a stupid old man, imagining things. One of them even told me I was having a flashback to the war. Eventually I got one of the nurses to come with me, and finally she believed me when she saw it all with her own eyes."

"Who did it?" I ask.

"What do you mean?" he replies, frowning. "Don't ask stupid questions. She did it herself."

I stare at him. "She -"

"Right here," he says, interrupting me. "There was always something a little bit off about her. Something in her eyes. It was like she was always a bit sad, even when she was happy. I still never thought..." He pauses for a moment. "It's not right when someone does that. She had her life ahead of her, and she threw it away."

"Come on," I say, gently leading him to the door. "You should get back to your room."

"I've seen some things in my life," he continues as we slowly walk away from the room where the woman died. "Never seen so much blood come out of one person, though. And the look on her face was... That's gonna haunt me for the rest of my days. Not that I've got many days left, but you know what I mean. All that blood, and she was just staring straight ahead as if nothing was wrong, almost like she was relieved it was over."

"It sounds horrible," I say, glancing back at the empty room as we slowly walk along the corridor. Thinking back to the grating and remembering the phone, I feel a cold chill rush through my body. "What was her name?" I ask.

"Jennifer," he replies. "Jennifer Mathis."

"That's a nice name," I say, guiding Mr. Jenkins along the corridor. He seems very old and frail, and I'm worried he might fall and break a bone.

The rest of the walk back to his room is slow but uneventful. I steer the conversation away from the horrific events surrounding Jennifer Mathis, and onto Mr. Jenkins and his life before he came to Crestview. He tells me about his time in Vietnam, and about the jewelry business he used to run in New York, and he talks about how he was married until his wife died a few years ago, and he says his children don't come to visit him very often since they live too far away. By the time we finally get back to his room on the red ward, I feel like I know his entire life's history. Glancing at my watch, I realize that it's taken us almost an hour just to get here.

"So can you promise me you'll stay in your room this time?" I ask, holding his arm as he carefully sits down on the side of his bed.

He smiles. "You wanna stay with me? Keep me warm?"

"I think you'll be okay," I reply as I help him get his legs up onto the bed. "Is there anything you want before I go? A glass of water?"

He shakes his head. "I'm okay."

I stare at his for a moment, and he smiles back at me. "Are you tired at all?" I ask.

"Hell no," he replies. "How can I be tired? All I do all day is rest!"

"Good night, Mr. Jenkins," I say, pulling the door shut. As soon as I'm alone in the corridor, I take a deep breath. Turning and walking back toward the rec room, I pause for a moment to close the door that leads to the abandoned ward. I still don't quite understand how Kenneth managed to get the padlock open, especially after the way Mr. Taylor kept telling me how important it is to keep all the doors and windows locked. Feeling a vibration in my pocket, I pull out my phone and see that Lizzie is calling. Pausing for a moment, I think back to the phone hidden behind the grating, and then finally I accept the call.

"Hey," I say, "I just -"

"Help me..." she whimpers, sounding as if she's crying.

"What's wrong?" I ask, trying not to panic. "Li-"

"Help... I need... someone to..." Her voice trails off.

"Where are you?" I shout, running along the corridor before I come to a halt and look back at the door to the abandoned ward. "Lizzie," I shout, "where are you?"

Chapter Four

Eleven years ago

Standing by the door, I watch as my father talks in hushed tones to Dr. Martindale. They're definitely talking about my mother, and they have very serious faces. I like Dr. Martindale most of the time, but unfortunately he's usually the one who has to deliver bad news, and it seems like lately there's been a whole lot of bad news. My father always keeps the worst of it from me, but I'm pretty sure I know what's going on. Today, though, something seems to be different. As my father talks to Dr. Martindale, I can see that they're both sadder than ever, and this time I don't think they're going to be able to hide anything from me.

"Come and sit down," my father says eventually, walking over to me and taking my arm so he can guide me to the sofa.

"Hello, Juliet," Dr. Martindale says, smiling as he turns and walks away. He usually stops and talks to me for a minute, but today he seems to want to get away as quickly as possible. There's a very serious look in his eyes, and I can't help thinking that my father's going to tell me something I don't want to hear.

"Can we go in and see Mom now?" I ask as I sit on the sofa.

"In a minute," my father says, sitting next to me. "Before we do that, though, I want to talk to you for a minute, because..." He pauses for a moment. His eyes look different, as if he might be about to cry at any moment. "You're going to have to be very strong, Juliet," he continues eventually. "You're going to have to be brave, braver than a girl your age should have to be. I'm going to have to be brave too. And your Mom... she's going to have to be brave, but in a different way." He takes a deep breath, and for a moment he seems to be lost in thought.

"Can we go in and see her now?" I ask.

"In a minute," he replies. "Juliet, do you remember when we talked about how your Mom's treatment might go well, but it might not? Well, leukemia is a very nasty illness and it doesn't give up easily, and it takes a lot of luck to beat it. Sometimes we can't be lucky, and it looks like your Mom isn't going to be one of the lucky ones." He stares at me. "Do you understand what I'm telling you, Juliet?"

I nod. It's true: I
do
understand what he's saying. He's saying that she's going to die, even though he hasn't actually used the word 'die' yet. I guess he thinks I'm too young.

"It's very, very important that you know she tried," he continues. "She tried really, really hard to beat this thing, but as hard as she tried, she couldn't win. Sometimes people just can't manage to get better, even if they really, really want to be well again."

"Is she already dead?" I ask, interrupting him. Sometimes my father takes too long to get to the point.

"No," he replies, "not... not right now. But..." He pauses, taking another deep breath. "What we're going to do, Juliet, is we're going to go in and see her and she's going to be very weak. Weaker than usual. She really wants to see you, and she'll be so happy you're here, but she might not be able to express that happiness very well. She might not talk much, or move much, but she'll be very, very happy to see you, okay? And we won't stay long, because she needs to rest. We'll just go in for five minutes and see her. Okay?"

"Okay," I reply.

"Okay," he says, standing up and leading me away from the sofa, toward my Mom's room.

"Dad," I say, stopping and pulling on his sleeve. He turns to me. I pause for a moment, and then I point at the little red spot of ketchup on my shoulder. "I did that earlier. On purpose." As he stares at me with a confused look on his face, I can't help but smile.

Chapter Five

Today

Racing along the brightly-lit corridors of the abandoned ward, I quickly reach the bathroom and come to a halt. For a moment, my brain can't process the things I'm seeing, as if I can't bring myself to accept the truth.

"Help me..." Lizzie whispers. She's on the floor, over by the showers, and she's covered in blood, some of which has leaked out across the floor in a large puddle that's slowly trickling down into the drain.

"Fuck," I say, frozen with fear.

"Help me," she says again, barely able to keep her eyes open.

"What..." I spot a knife on the floor, with blood smeared on the blade. "What happened?"

"I..." She stares at me, and I realize she's starting to lose consciousness. "There... I..."

"Wait!" I say, hurrying over and kneeling on the floor, my knees getting soaked in her blood. I don't know what to do or where to start, and there's so much blood all over the place, I can't believe she's still alive. "Can you hear me?" I ask, forcing myself to stay calm. I reach out and gently turn her face so that she's looking at me, but her eyes seem dazed and tired, and I'm not sure she really understands that I'm here. "Don't fall asleep," I say. "You have to stay awake or -"

"Cold," she whispers.

"Is there someone here?" I ask, looking over at the doorway. "Did someone do this to you?"

She shakes her head. "No-one."

"What happened?" I ask, looking down at the gaping wounds in her wrists. It's as if someone has started gouging her flesh away, not just slicing her but actually digging deep. The skin has been torn open, and chunks of ravaged muscle are slopping out, with the bones of her wrists clearly visible. There's not much blood flowing from the hole any more; I guess most of it is already out of her body. "Lizzie, what happened?" I shout, worried that she's losing consciousness.

She stares at me. "I just... I can't do it anymore."

"Can't do what?" I ask, fumbling for my phone so I can call an ambulance.

"It all seems so..." She pauses for a moment. "I tried to stay strong, but sometimes it just feels as if there's nothing left. Everything's so lonely. Tell them I was lonely."

"Hang on," I say, trying to get my phone to work. For some reason, though, I don't seem to have any signal. I swear to God, when I was here earlier, everything was working perfectly. "I need your phone," I say, desperately trying again and again to get the call to go through. "Where is it?"

"It's too late," she says, looking down at her wrists. "There's no more blood. It's all out." She smiles as she closes her eyes. "I've waited so long for this moment. All the peace and calm. No more loneliness or emptiness. I thought I'd be alone at the end, but I'm glad you're here." With that, she slowly closes her eyes.

"No!" I say, gently shaking her. "Lizzie, you have to stay awake. I'm going to go and find a phone, okay?"

She opens her eyes and stares at me. "Lizzie?"

"You'll be fine," I say. "I promise."

She frowns. "My name... not Lizzie."

I stare at her for a moment. "What... What's your name?" I ask eventually, even though I've got a horrible feeling I know what she's going to say.

"Jennifer," she says, closing her eyes again. "My name's..." Her voice falls silent, and although I try to shake her awake, she doesn't respond.

"Wake up!" I shout, desperate to keep her alive. Getting to my feet, I run out of the room and along the corridor, looking for a phone. There was a phone on the wall of the rec room in the red ward, but the rec room in this ward turns out to have been stripped completely bare; where I'd hoped to find a phone, all I find is a space on the wall with a couple of wires sticking out. I check every room, convinced that I'll eventually find something I can use, perhaps even a First Aid kit, but there's nothing.

Realizing that time is running out, I turn and race back to the bathroom, figuring my only option is to get her through to the main part of the building. Perhaps I can call for help from the office, and she might just last long enough while we wait for the ambulance.

"It's okay," I say as I run through the door, "I'm -" I pull up short as I see that the room is completely empty. Moments ago, she was on the floor in a pool of blood; now she's vanished, and all the blood has gone. I step out of the room and double-check that I'm in the right part of the building, convinced that I must have made a wrong turn somewhere; after a moment, however, I realize that I haven't make a mistake. When I get back to the bathroom, I stare at the spot where Jennifer used to be, and I feel my chest tighten a little as I face the fact that Jennifer has just vanished into thin air.

Walking across the room, I kneel down and see the dried blood between the tiles, just as things were earlier in the evening when I was here with Mr. Jenkins. Feeling a cold chill run through my body, I try to come up with some kind of logical explanation for all of this, but there's nothing that explains how the body and the blood could have disappeared in the couple of minutes I was looking for a phone. Jennifer was almost dead when I left her, and there can't be anyone else around; anyway, even if someone
did
come and move the body, they couldn't have cleaned up all the blood and dried the floor so quickly.

"Hey," says a voice behind me. "You okay?"

Spinning around, I find that she's standing right behind me, smiling in the doorway. All the blood is gone, and her wrists look to be completely normal again. She's smiling as if nothing strange has happened.

"Where did you go?" I ask. "What... What did you do?"

"Nothing," she replies, "I just..." She pauses for a moment, frowning as she glances down at the floor. "I was just..." She smiles. "Huh. It's weird, but I don't really remember. I was helping some of the residents, and then I..." She shrugs. "I don't know. I guess I've just been rushed off my feet all night. It's just been one crazy thing after another."

I stare at her. "Jennifer Mathis," I say eventually.

"Yeah," she says, smiling. "I'm really sorry, you're going to hate me, but your name has totally slipped my mind."

"Juliet," I say, taking a step back. "Sorry, I really thought you were called Lizzie."

"Lizzie?" She pauses. "I don't know anyone called Lizzie. I don't think there's a Lizzie working here."

"You're..." I take a deep breath, trying to work out what I'm getting wrong. There has to be a simple explanation for this, something that makes sense, but right now I can't shake the feeling that I'm talking to a dead woman. Either that, or I'm losing my mind. "Earlier," I continue after a moment, "you were on the floor. Your wrists were all cut up, and there was blood everywhere."

"Oh," she says, looking a little troubled. "Yeah, I guess maybe that's right. I think I remember something about... you were kneeling next to me, weren't you?" She holds up her wrists and stares at the pristine, undamaged flesh. "I came in here to end the loneliness and..." She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the same knife that was on the floor earlier, except this time it's completely clean. "I don't want to keep going like this. The darkness and emptiness all around... It's too much. Don't you ever think it's too much?"

"I..." I pause, not sure what to say. I want to get the hell out of here, but I'm so scared, I can barely even breathe.

"No-one should have to go through life in pain," she says, resting the blade of knife against one of her wrists. "It's always -"

"Stop!" I shout, running forward and grabbing the knife just as she seems to be on the verge of cutting the skin. "You can't do that!" I say. "You..." I look over at the floor.

"I remember the blood," she says. "I remember feeling the blood as it flowed out through the holes in my body. There was real force behind it, as if it wanted to get out, as if it just wanted to get as far away from me as possible." Her eyes are so alive right now, as if the memory of all that blood is giving her some kind of thrill. "You have no idea how good it feels," she continues. "Do you want to try?"

"I'm going," I say, determined to get out of here.

"Once you decide to end it all," she continues, "you see the world in a totally different way. You realize you have total control. For the first time in your entire life, you have power. Don't you want to have power, Juliet? Even if it's only at the very end, don't you want to be in control of your life."

"Whatever this is about -" I start to say.

"Do you want to know something kind of sad?" she asks. "You're the first person I've spoken to properly for such a long time. It's so good to finally meet someone who cares."

"I'm going to go and check on the other wards," I say, carefully edging my way past her without actually making contact. "Maybe you just want to wait here, okay?"

"You don't want me to come with you?" she asks. "Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yeah," I say, backing into the corridor. I feel like I just need to get rid of her and go back to the rest of the building. "I'm totally fine, so you can just wait right here and I'll be off checking the wards. Yeah?"

"Okay," she says with an uncertain smile.

"So you're going to wait here," I say. "You promise that, right? You won't follow me?"

"Of course I won't," she says. "I'll just stay right here, like we agreed."

"Great," I say, turning to walk away. I only make it a few steps, however, before I suddenly feel a kind of wrenching sensation in my gut. It's as if, out of nowhere, I've started to feel this inescapable sense of dread. After a moment, I stop as I realize I have nowhere to go. I mean, I
could
go through to the rest of the building, and I
could
run away, but at the same time I feel like there's no real point. I'm only here to keep my father happy, and even if I quit, I'd just sit around in my room, doing absolutely nothing. I've spent my whole life just floating along, entertaining myself with stupid, juvenile crap, and there's no way anything's ever going to change. Even if I go to college later this year, I'll just get a pointless degree and then some kind of shitty job, and then eventually I'll end up like all the old people living here at Crestview. No matter what I do, I'll be old one day, and I'll probably just waste away in a little room at a retirement home. All these negative thoughts, which I can usually ignore, suddenly seem so much more powerful in my mind.

"Are you okay?" Jennifer asks.

"Yeah," I say, even though I feel I'm rooted to the spot.

"I thought you were going to check on the residents?" she says.

"Yeah," I say. "I was. I mean, I am. I just..." Suddenly I feel this huge wave of anguish wash over me. It's as if a current of sadness and despair has flooded my body, and all my long-simmering fears are coming to the surface. For the first time in years, I find myself thinking about my mother, remembering all the times I saw her in the hospital, and thinking about how slow and painful her death must have been; I think back to her ruined, bleeding gums, and the pain I saw in her eyes. For the last year of her life, she spent all her time in hospital, having various drugs and chemicals pumped into her body; she was poked and prodded by doctors, and she underwent countless operations as various experts tried a series of increasingly desperate measures to save her life. She must have been so scared, and she must have realized after a while that all the pain and torture was for nothing.

"Juliet?" Jennifer says, stepping closer to me. "What's wrong? Are you feeling sad? It's
okay
to feel sad." She reaches out and places a hand on my shoulder. "Everyone feels sad sometimes. Let it all out. Embrace it."

"Nothing's wrong," I say, as tears start rolling down my cheeks. "I just..." I pause for a moment, realizing that I can't even speak right now. It's as if all the fears and worries I've had in my entire life have suddenly come crashing down on top of me, all at once. Finally, I have to sit down on the floor of the corridor, and it's as if the weight of all my fears is crushing me into the ground. "Fuck!" I say, wiping the tears from my face. This is so unlike me. I've always kept this kind of stuff bottled up, and now it's exploding.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Jennifer says. "You spend your whole life trying to ignore the futility of existence, pushing all the fear back, and then one day you realize you can't ignore it anymore. It just destroys you, and no matter what you do, no matter how you try to forget the darkness, it wraps itself around you and never, ever lets go." She pauses for a moment, and then she holds the knife out to me. "Finally," she continues, "you realize there's no way to escape the pain, and you decide you'd rather not live a miserable life. Not when there's an easy way out. Once the dam has burst, Juliet, there's no way back. Don't fight these feelings. Let them flow through you. They've always been a part of you, but you've learned to suppress them."

As I stare at the knife in my hand, I start to sob uncontrollably. I swear, I've always been able to keep my emotions in check, but it feels as if all my strength has ebbed away. These fears have always been inside me, but until this moment I was able to keep them under control.

"Think about it, Juliet," Jennifer says, standing over me. "You could live another seventy or eighty years, but so what? Is that the point of life? Are you just here to cling on for as long as possible? What if all those years are just a crushing, humiliating experience? What if you end up like your mother, suffering in a lonely hospital bed? Or what if you actually manage to have a vaguely good life? It still doesn't mean anything, because ultimately everything has to end. You'll still die at the end of it, so really, what's the point? All you have to do right now is make the brave choice, and end the pain."