Rhiannon,
Today is a hard day for me, too. The girl whose body I’m in is in a bad place. Hates the world. Hates herself. Is up against a lot, mostly from the inside. That’s really hard.
When it comes to you and Justin, or anything, I want you to be honest with me. Even if it hurts. Although I would prefer for it not to hurt.
Love,
A
I try to return to normal. I try not to imagine where A is, what that body looks like. Justin has work, so I’m on my own after school. I check my email again and find a cry for help.
I really need to speak to you right now. The girl whose body I’m in wants to kill herself. This is not a joke.
There’s a phone number. I call it right away.
I know it’s not a joke. I’m sure there are people who could joke about a thing like this, but I know A isn’t one of them.
I just know.
The voice that answers is a girl’s. “Hello?” She sounds a little like me.
“Is that you?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s me.”
“I got your email. Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s all in her journal—all these ways to kill herself. It’s really…graphic. And methodical. I can’t even get into it—there are just so many ways to die, and it’s like she’s researched each and every one. And she’s set herself a deadline. In six days.”
I feel the dredging inside me. I feel the girl I once was reaching out to connect with that. I try to focus on the present.
“That poor girl,” I tell A. “What are you going to do?”
“I have no idea.”
She sounds so lost. So overwhelmed.
“Don’t you have to tell someone?” I suggest.
“There was no training for this, Rhiannon. I really don’t know.”
I’ve been there, I want to tell her. But it’s too scary.
“Where are you?” I ask.
A tells me where she is, and it’s not that far. I tell her I can be there in a little while.
“Are you alone?” I ask.
“Yeah. Her father doesn’t get home until around seven.”
“Give me the address,” I say. After she does, I say, “I’ll be right there.”
—