♚  J E S S E  ♚

"She's a slut, and she deserves everything coming for her. Didn't think she'd stoop so low to beg me for sex," Allen boasts, slinging his arm around his new and shiny girlfriend. Kathryn - or something along the lines - smiles, but there's a bitter look on her face at the mention of Evelyn.

I ignore everything he's saying, about how she tore off her clothes and dragged him into bed, and accept the cigarette Nina hands me. I don't smoke often - I actually haven't until that night at Evelyn's place. There's only so much bragging from the others that I can take before I feel like shooting myself.

"He should just shut the fuck up," Nina mutters, blowing smoke from her nose as she taps away on her flashy phone. We're in the school gardens, skipping class because we don't feel like going, not that I'm complaining. Right now I have European History, and I'm not prepared to look Evelyn in the eyes.

I know I've hurt her. I've hurt myself, too. This wasn't how it was meant to go. After that night, the rules changed. I thought we were all going to leave Evelyn alone and let her recover by herself, but that's not how it's going to be.

They plan on messing with her until she has broken down to her lowest form. I don't think they know she's already broken. It kills me not to be able to do something. They don't trust me, after the many times I told them to stop and leave her alone. They took my phone and they're using it to send nasty texts to her. I know someone passed her phone number around, and no doubt she's receiving abusive texts.

I drag in a puff from the cigarette. Smoking doesn't help me calm down. I'm constantly on edge because of the whole situation, and I'm always fidgety and cranky afterward.

My phone buzzes and I switch it on to see a text from my dad. Remember: your mom's cancer treatment is tomorrow.

I always feel nauseous at the mention of the six-letter disease, and now is no exception. I quickly text back, Yeah, I won't forget. How is she?

She's good, just anxious about tomorrow. You shouldn't be; it'll all turn out fine. Oh, and tell Allen and the others I say thanks for their generosity. Generosity, I snort. They'd rather give out a million dollars to a friend they barely know than save a helpless girl.

Will do. Bye.

I toss the cigarette onto the ground and put it out with the heel of my trainers, shoving my phone into my pocket. It's only the seven of us - Allen, his chic pick, Nina, Cynthia - who's dipping her toes into a small lake -, Theo and his boyfriend Brandt off to the side, talking amongst themselves, and me.

Thank fuck Preston and Bryce aren't here, but I know where they are; they ditched to set up their last plan - or as they call it, the Master Plan. I know every detail of the Plan, they've drilled it into my head, and I know Evelyn. She's going to be terrified when she gets there. She's going to be mad. She's going to lapse into a depressive state and I know she'll never get out of it.

But I can't save her. It isn't that I don't want to. It's that no one will let me - not Nina or Allen, or Evelyn herself. She'll push me away like how she always does before she does something rash. She must despise me. She hates my guts now.

I don't blame her. I hate myself too.

☤ C H A R L I E ☤

There's a scream.

From across the hall - Evelyn's bedroom. I step away from the balcony, making my way to her shut door. "Evelyn?" Despite the feeling in my gut that she's physically unharmed, my heart still races in my chest at the prospect of harm coming her way.

There's silence before there are a few footsteps. "Uh, I'm fine. I-I thought I saw a bird fly in," she replies, her voice strange and strained-sounding.

She sounds like she's fighting tears. I've heard that voice before, where she tries to sound strong when she's two seconds from bursting into tears. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad." I can just picture her, forcing a smile on her face so she sounds cheerful. I've heard the line I'm fine too many times before. Too many times before for it to sound genuine.

I head back to me and Eva's bedroom, closing the door behind me. The few papers I had found - fallen from the waste paper basket - are sitting on the king-sized bed, and it makes me sick to my stomach how someone could do such a thing. How some people could do such a thing. I know there's more than one person involved in this whole thing.

I know about everything. I know about the near-rape. I know about her kiss with Yulia. I know about that incident with her friend - Calliope - who I'm sure is not just a friend at this point. I know about that time she cut herself and Jesse cleaned her up. I know about that night with Jesse. I know about the bet. I know about the locker incident that happened last Monday. I know about the photos of Evian last Thursday. I know about the dead bird. I know about her fight with Calliope.

The thing is, if you want to know something, you've got to bide your time and be patient. I've collected clues and information from all these times Evelyn has slipped up. The notes Noelle found stuffed in her bin - they provided me with information that would have been hard to get. Information like the bet, and how Evelyn 'whored around' with Jesse.

The kiss with Yulia was pretty easy to find out about. Evelyn avoiding her and refusing to go to sessions hinted that something happened between them. I know Evelyn cries herself to sleep. It may not be obvious to everyone else but I can see her puffy eyes she outlines with eyeliner and covers with her hair in the morning time.

Jesse isn't as loyal as Evelyn thinks he is. Or, thought. He told me about her episode. And the near-rape - that guy, Allen, is getting charged with assault, battery, and sexual harassment. And it's obvious Evelyn kissed Calliope. She blushes at the mention of her name and is always awkward when she comes around.

Evelyn doesn't always hide her journal, and everything is written in there. All her feelings, incidents, thoughts etc. Noelle only read one page and was too horrified to continue. She told me about the photoshopped picture and the dead bird.

I knew Evelyn was suffering but I didn't know it was this much. I've done so much in my power to help her but I've never actually taken any action.

Today is Sunday. She usually goes to the church at noon, and it's four pm. Something's wrong. She never fails to head down to the chapel.

I need to do something before it's too late.

∞

✯ E V E L Y N ✯

A naked dummy covered in what smells like blood hangs from the lightbulb in my room, a thick brown rope wrapped tightly around its neck. It has x's for eyes, it's permanent marker-drawn mouth one straight line.

I barely make it to the bathroom, where I throw up. I'm not even crying. My whole body is shuddering, the horrible stench of vomit and air freshener and paint clogging my nostrils, making me hurl even more. I try to keep the retching sounds to a minimum, but everything just comes back up my throat.

I flush the toilet, rinsing my mouth with mouthwash and stare at myself in the mirror, my hands gripping the sides of the sink tightly. My once braided hair is now floating around my face in loose curls, blue-green eyes staring at my reflection. I list off everything I hate about my appearance.

My nose is too small.

My eyes are too far apart.

My eyebrows aren't naturally shaped to perfection.

My lips are too thin.

My chin is too pointy.

My face is too small.

My eyelashes are too short.

My cheekbones aren't sharp enough.

The average person lives to the age of 79. That's too long. Life is too long.

I can't take it anymore. I'm tried of always being the victim. I'm tired of crying every day. I'm tired of being depressed over people who are only set out to use me. I'm tired of living in fear and guilt and pain.

I'm tired.

I tear down the dummy from the lightbulb by jumping on my bed. Thankfully, the paint is dry so it doesn't make a mess all over me. I swallow down my discomfort at the blank, dead face of the dummy and shove it under my bed along with the rope.

My eyes catch a note on the floorboards and I pick it up. One word, three letters.

Die.

I feel my lips curve into a smile, a tornado of emotions swirling inside me. Oh, I intend to. That's if everything goes to plan.

I strip down to my underwear and camisole, throwing a dressing gown over myself. Padding down the stairs, I hear voices coming from the TV, but I peep into Eva's makeshift studio, where she's working away on a design. She's surrounded by fabric and scissors, pins sticking out of her mouth as she drapes different fabrics over a mannequin. A phone is pressed between her shoulder and her ear, and she's making non-committal sounds.

"Mom?" Eva barely acknowledges my presence, strutting across the room as she grabs measuring tapes and scribbles onto A1 sheets of paper. I stand awkwardly in the doorway, hearing the faint buzz of someone talking on the other side of the line.

"Yes, that's a great idea! I told them I'd have a personalized design ready for them, but they didn't give me a specific color or pattern. But yes, I love that, Tracey," she babbles away, a few pins falling from the mouth, and she curses under her breath.

I take this opportunity to speak up. "Mom, where are the headache pills?"

"What's up, hun?" she asks distractedly, occasionally stopping what she's doing to listen to Tracey. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

Obviously, if I ask for headache pills I have a headache. But I refrain from snarkily pointing this out. "I've got a headache and I don't feel well." The lie is bitter on my tongue, but I remind myself that this is for the greater good.

"Paracetamol and aspirins are in the kitchen cabinet, I don't know, maybe take a bath . . . I'm a bit busy at the moment, but I'll get back to you after this," she tells me, not even glancing at me as she sketches. "Oh, that was just my daughter. What were you saying about the Harrisons?"

She quickly dives back into her conversation, and I take this as my cue to leave. I'm saddened by the fact that she didn't even look at me. I try not to dwell on that. I've got a great idea forming in my mind, and I need to put it into action now before I change my mind.

"I'll get back to you after this . . . " No, she won't. By the time she's done with what she's doing, I'll be done too. I'm almost giddy with excitement as I skip into the kitchen, instantly locating the pills. Two full packs. I open up the paracetamol and shove the pills into my pocket, and do the same with the aspirin. I carry two paracetamols in my hand.

The sight of Landon lounging on the sofa startles me, and I flinch in shock. "Holy shit, Lan, you scared me," I breathe, exaggeratedly clutching my heart.

"That was my intention," he retorts, tossing a peanut into the air and catching it in his mouth. His eyes are bright when they latch onto mine, and they hone in on my hand. "What's in your hand? Gummy bears?!"

He quickly stands up, a gleeful look on his face. I laugh softly, shaking my head. "No, they're headache pills. I feel like my head is splitting open," I admit, opening up my palm so he can see.

His mood visibly darkens, and his shoulders sag. "Oh." I can sense the disappointment, but I know he's joking. "Very disappointing. You sure know how to break a guys heart." He holds a hand over his chest with a pained expression on his face, but his smile gives him away.

Not only a guys heart. Shoving that thought into the dark recesses of my mind, I surprise both of us by hugging him. His chest is firm and warm against mine, and I breathe in his scent of sandalwood, candy floss, and Lynx. He smells soothing, like home and comfort. I'll miss him.

"Woah," he blurts out confusedly, but nevertheless wraps his arms around my waist, resting his chin on top of my head.

"I love you, you know that?" I tell him. He's like a big brother I look up to. I don't know how I ever lived without him.

"Getting all sappy on me, are you, Evie?" he jokes but there's a serious tension between us. I gently shove his shoulder, pulling away from him. He ruffles my hair slightly, ignoring my glare. "But yeah, love you too, Lynnie Bear."

I wrinkle my nose at the nickname he gave me three years ago when we first met. "Ew, don't call me that."

He laughs it off and flops back onto the sofa, digging his fingers into a pack of M&M's. "Move, Evelyn, your fat ass is in the way—"

"Screw you," I giggle, running out of the room before he can throw something at me. My heart is exploding like a million fireworks in my chest as I run up the stairs to my bedroom. My bare feet are freezing, my fingers shaking like crazy and head dizzy.

But this is the best feeling I've had in a long time.

∞

I make sure everything is in place before I lock myself in my en-suite, running hot water into the bathtub. I pour some scented bath oils, the smell of sweet lavender flooding my senses. It smells beautiful and delicate in here. That reminds me. I grab a bunch of the de-thorned roses from a vase in my bedroom, throwing them into the bathtub.

When the water has finished running, I just stand in the middle of the bathroom. Stock still, lungs inflating and deflating, fingers twitching and toes curling. This is it. This is the moment I've been waiting for, for five years. I'm finally doing it.

Sue and Harmony creep back into the light, here to claim their place amongst my happy thoughts. But nothing can shake the relaxed, calm feeling that floods my being.

Movement in the mirror catches my eye, and I look at myself. I look at myself for the last time ever. I touch the ends of my hair, proud of my makeshift haircut. My hair reaches just above my jaw, underneath my ears, and frames my small face. You look gorgeous, Sue tells me. Now, let's get a move on!

I empty out the pills, two dozen sitting in the palm of my hand. They look like little oval shaped mints. Shit, I should have gotten a glass of water. Nevertheless, I pop one into my mouth. It almost has no taste, but it has a weird aftertaste. I dry swallow, and it surprises me how smoothly it goes down.

And so I pop them in my mouth, one by one, like a ritual as the red roses make me dizzy and intoxicated. I take eighteen pills; one for every year of my life. I flush the last six away, hoping eighteen is enough to do the job.

You're such a beautiful girl, Evelyn. I'm so proud of you for doing this. Imagine yourself, weightless and wonderful, without a care in the world. You're going to die in less than ten minutes, darling, if you do what you need to do. Not what you need to do; what you want to do. You want this to happen badly, sweetie, and it will. You're so close, the finish line is just up ahead. You're running out of time, Evelyn. If you want to do it your way then you must hurry. Do it!

I've always had a soft spot for Sue. Mostly because she puts all of my jumbled up emotions into words and sentences. Words of encouragement and motivation and pride. The only heartfelt words anyone has ever said to me.

I can see you eyeing the razor. You want its power in your hands. You want to feel the cold kiss of the blade against your skin. You want to watch that river of red run down your skin, watching it stain your clothes. You want to breathe in that deep, metallic scent of your blood.

Killing yourself is the only way you'll ever feel alive, Harmony whispers in the sweetest voice.

I allow Sue and Harmony to control me because I trust them. They've never steered me wrong in the past - it was just me who was too naïve and scared to obey their wishes. I know if I listen to the two, they'll lead me to something great. Something better than this shitty hellhole they call Earth. This hellhole where everything is a cycle that eventually comes to an end - you're born, you grow up, you die.

I'm sick and tired of it. I've been born - but not by my mother. God brought me here as a new person not too long ago - and now is my time to cut all my life away - literally.

I don't even know what I'm thinking. My mind is a chaotic mess, and I'm rambling random sentences under my breath as I submerge my body into the water. It's hot, a few degrees away from being scalding, but it feels good. It feels right. The hot water represents the hot flames that will lick my skin when I get to hell. Oddly satisfying and excruciating.

The pain is enough to know you're alive.

But I don't want to live anymore.

My hair floats around my head like a dark halo. I grip the razor in my hand, examining my left wrist. It's covered in fading, red lines that cover most of my wrist. I want this to be somewhere it can be seen. I find the perfect place; just below the crook of my elbow.

The first cut is painful. Extremely. But, as I continue to trace over my skin, it consumes my body, which is instantly numb. It suddenly feels so good. I don't know why I didn't do this earlier. I feel amazing. I feel free.

As I draw my design, my wrist bleeds over it, so I wipe it off. A few droplets of blood dye the water a misty pink. Rose petals float around me, their scent compromising my senses. I can feel my muscles spasming. Either because of the pills or excitement.

The effect of the pills can't possibly kick in now.

Evelyn and Evian. That's what my design is.

When I'm happy with what I've done, I dip my arms into the water. The stinging sensation is unbearable, but I embrace it and drift deeper into the bathtub until only my face is above the surface.

I can't even see my knees above the water. I stare at the cream ceiling above me, eyes blank and unseeing. I'm just imagining the sky beyond the layer of plaster. The deep blue abyss that I'll sink into, if I just close my eyes . . .

This is it. You don't have much time left. I'm so proud of you . . . It's nice to have someone proud of you. Even if that person is an imaginary voice in your head that you believe is an actual individual. Sue and Harmony just represent my thoughts.

"If you'd like to die a painless death
Maybe drowning is your thing
Fill your lungs with water, not air
As you slowly sink."

"I won more money than you're worth. Consider whatever that was between us over."

"Don't worry, little birdie, I'm going to make you feel all better."

"Devil worshipper."

"You should never have been brought into this world."

"Psycho bitch."

"I hope you rot in hell."

"Your fat ass is in the way."

"I'm a bit busy at the moment, but I'll get back to you after this."

I've been told I'm a selfish person. That I'm cruel, and the only thing I can do is mess with people's emotions. That I'll never be loved. That I'm a slut for not letting a guy rape me. That I'm a whore for having sex with someone I care about.

Maybe I don't love Jesse. Or, didn't. Maybe I loved the thought of loving him. Maybe I loved the fact that he had stuck around all this time, even if it was for only one reason - to use me and then dispose of me. But that's okay. That's what made me who I am 'til this moment, and his words are things that I'll take with me after.

Calliope . . . I don't know what to think. She's perfect in her own quirky way but she fails to see it. I may not understand why she starves herself, but then again, I don't understand a whole lot. I don't understand how that day she went from hot to cold, to warm, and then to cold.

But at least I'll be making her wish come true. Rotting in hell. I'm sure that's what she wanted ever since she lay eyes on me.

Since day one, Charlie has been the best Dad ever. Supportive, caring and understanding in his own quiet, observant way. I know he knows everything. He always knows everything. But by the time he comes up with a plan of action, I'll be long gone.

Eva will have a hard time coping, but Charlie will be there every step of the way. Just like he was there when Evian died. Today will be no different from the day of the car accident. Except, everyone will forget me.

But maybe it's a good thing. To be forgotten. So no one remembers your dumb shit and awkward fuck up moments.

My heart rate has accelerated. My lungs are rich in oxygen, something that can't happen if I want this to happen. My fingers are trembling, my muscles convulsing. My skin is stinging and burning, but through it all, I smile.

I smile.

I rest my head under, the water passing over my closed eyelids. It's calm. Soothing. Beautiful pressure builds up in my lungs, my heartbeat so prominent that I can almost taste it. This is it. All I have to do is let my entire being sink. Let my body sink underwater. Let my mind sink into an empty void of comforting darkness.

And so I sink.