The Alibi Girl by C. J. Skuse

Author:C. J. Skuse [C. J. Skuse]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780008311391
Publisher: HQ
Published: 2020-02-13T05:00:00+00:00

The stupid thing about the suicide website is that it gives you all these warnings about hurting yourself. Talk to somebody first. Get it out of your head. Before you take the final step, have a final meal. And during your final meal, you can make your preparations: the How, the Why and the Where.

But I don’t know anybody. And I’m not hungry.

I think about Sean and how it could be. But I am sick of thinking of how things could be. Unicorns don’t exist. And neither does me and him together. Me and anyone. Grow up. There’s nothing else to do. It’s all too hard.

And so to the How – I have a choice of gunshot (no gun), hanging (no rope, and I can’t find my dressing gown cord), a plastic bag over my head (too sweaty), drugs (might be sick, and I hate being sick), carbon monoxide poisoning (no car), jumping off a high building (The Lalique’s only four floors high and if I’m going to do it, I want to be sure I’m not going to wake up in some hospital afterwards), jumping under a train (no, poor driver) and drowning.

I look out at the churning sea. Well, I have plenty of water, that’s for sure.

How do you drown yourself? I go to Google again.

There’s two ways, apparently. You can drink yourself to death or you can load your pockets with heavy stones and throw yourself in an ‘expanse of water’. I could do it in my bath. Some people fall asleep in the bath. But I’m not tired. I could take sleeping tablets. Haven’t got any though. I’ll go out and get some.

It’s early evening in town and the streets are full of loud people, ogres and trolls shouting and staring at me as I make my way through the streets, trying to go unnoticed. I pass the Smuggler’s Arms on Cook Street around 7.15 p.m. and I look in the window to see Sean sitting at a small round table by the fire, looking at a paper. I want to go in and sit with him. He invited me. He wanted me to come. Or was he just being nice? He was just being nice. I shouldn’t disturb him.

And so I go home. By the time I get back to the flat, I am ready. I go into the bathroom and run myself a hot bath, using the last of the bath foam and a bath bomb I bought ages ago at Mr Zhang’s shop. ‘Moon and Stars’ it’s called. I was saving it for a special occasion. I place it under the running tap and it immediately spews a rich royal blue into the water and all these tiny gold stars flood out and float up to the surface. I reach into the pharmacy bag and pull out the boxes of sleeping pills. Then the Morrison’s bag, and two more boxes. Then the Tesco Metro bag, for the last two boxes. I didn’t know they won’t let you buy more than two boxes at a time in any shop.

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