I can't believe this is appening! I mean I know it is, but, maybe I don't want it to. Appen that is. I've neva really imagined it. You know how it is, too fast to live too young to die. But you neva really think of it being right round the corner, do ya? We're too young to be at a funeral. Still got GCSEs, A-Levels and marriage to think about and all those otha certificates. Neva really thought about death. I mean I know it's inevitable but it just ain't right, is it? Some 92 year old should be in there instead of Moles, at least they've seen life. But then, she did want it to be this way. Death that is. She wanted it. And I s'ppose I helped her get it. Well after all that's what friends are for, isn't it?
I feel like a part of me's dead now. I mean there's definitely something missing. I'm numb on one side. Can't eat, can't sleep, can't be bothered to be bothered anymore. I mean what is the point. S'ppose that's what you get when you lose your soulmate. You know someone so well you become part of them, don't ya? It's the science of maths, innit, two halves make a whole and all that, so when half goes, it's only right that there's only one half left. That half left is empty. There's a, what d'ya mi- call it? Void. Without Moles, I'm only half of me, so what use am I to anyone. I think I just wanna be left alone. You know, try and think over how to get over (well you neva can really get over these things, can ya?) Moles.
I've gone and made a propa mess of things. It keeps replaying, over and over again, in my mind or at least whats left of it. The last few days have been a blur, days have passed but I only know this cos of the date thingymajig on my watch. Just appened to look at it. Moles got me that watch, last Christmas . Lately everything seems to relate back to Moles.We sound like propa lovers, the type of lovers that cause cheese like 'Last Christmas, I gave you my heart'. Decided that if this is what it's like to be heartbroken I want no part. Ever. That's about the only decision I have made, since, well you know, Moles' d-d-d, I can't say it. Since Moles' escape. I can't function, Doc says its cos of the sleep deprivation and loss of appetite, shit. I don't care. Anything's better than admitting that this is not a dream. That Moles is not coming back. That I won't wake up from this living nightmare. It's not only the heart that br-br-br-breaks, it's the whole damn lot. Can't help thinking without sounding like some cheesy love song ' how can I live without you', 'can't live if living is without you', the list goes on.
I reckon I'm gonna be scarred for life. I have to live with myself knowing what I've done. I s'ppose I'm already emotionally scarred. It was an out of body experience, straight out of a Derren Brown stint, you know when people do stuff but don't actually realise their doing it. Cept, I wasn't hypnotised or anything, it was just the shock. You know, shock can do that to you, I read it in my Nan's Take a Break or was it Chat? Anyways I know I wasn't thinking straight, would have never have done what I did, if i had. But then again, (I know thinking all the what if's won't bring Moles back), she was in pain and what I did did help take the pain away, didn't it, so maybe what I did was just with love. If you love someone you'd do anything for them, right? Heard someone once say a true friend is a friend willing to lay down their life for you, so I s'ppose if your friend's in pain you want nothing more than to take away that pain anyway you can. Love can make you do some stupid things.
I'm in a trance. A walking zombie straight out of Shaun of the Dead. I'm still numb, haven't taken any of that valium shit but I might as well have.Maybe I should shot a job lot of em on Ebay. I can't feel nothing. I can't even cry. Cos I'm emotionless I can't even muster the strength to be angry at that wanker Tate who's the cause of all this (maybe not all of it, cos to be honest Moles was a bit messed up before him). It's like I'm in the middle of a wasteland after an earthquake. It's fucking catastrophic. Earth shattering. Chaotic. I'm just waiting for the headless chicken to run past and the pigs to fly. I hate boys. Or maybe not so much boys but what boys like Tate do to girls like Moles. I hope he's happy with what he's done. S'ppose he's gotta live knowing that he helped make another living being feel so low that she felt she had to jump ship. He's such a wanker. Has the bloody cheek to call me a murderer. Guess he'll never understand.
I need to be close to her. Sometimes I feel like I'm going half mad. I still hear her calling, sometimes I speak to her. It seems so real. Went to where it happened today. First time since, well, you know. Everything seems the same, all where its meant to be, cept something, more like someone, is missing. This is where we became blood sisters, you know like Macaulay Culkin and that girl who played Vada in My Girl. This is where we'd made our own outdoor Gladiators assault course. The Spinney. It was a forest with a lake and an old, well I s'ppose the best way to describe it is, crack den, though the adults would neva admit such things happen. Maybe in the city but not in this small town of Wainbody. The Spinney was mine and Moles' home. The old hut became our den; sometimes we'd camp out, you know, as if we were in the amazon rainforest stead of plain old Wainbody where nothing happened and if you wan'ed something to happen you'd have to make it on your own. Mole used to retreat there more often than me. She had a bitch of a life. Dad was in prison, Mum on the streets, she was dumped on her Grandmum, oh and you probably know the rest cos it's a story straight out of the 'real life' section of Take a Break. Everyone has a story.
There used to be a time when I knew everything about Mole and she, me. You know when you know someone so well you could be them cos you probably know them better than they know themselves. We were complete opposites. But I guess opposites attract. What with her fit for the 'real life' section of a magazine life and my, not well to do, I ain't no snob, but comfortable living with the tradish family straight out of an Ahh!! Bisto ad. Parentals own a couple market stalls, F&S Fruit and Veg, it's a family business been passed down. Dad wants me to work the stalls. But i wasn't born to work. Anyways I can't think about me right now, I don't even know who I am, let alone what I want to do in the future, I'm barely hanging onto existence. Just. Oh no, I just said 'hanging', bad Holly. Once again everything leads back to Moles. I guess I can't escape Moles even if she has escaped this world. Once again I find myself sounding like a cheesy love song, this time it's Cher's 'if I could turn back time'. If only.
You think you know someone, but then how much do you really know them. I was always so sure of my knowing Moles. We were two peas in a pod. Moles was always the girly girl while I was always a bit of a tom boy. When she told me about that wanker Tate breaking up with her " cos he just wanted to be friends" when really he was just confused, I told her what he really needed was a good kick up the arse. His loss I thought, didn't realise that Moles would forever think it was hers. I didn't really see boys in that way so I guess I didn't know what it was like to be there. There in the grips of depression (hark at me, I should be on Oprah). I didn't know that feeling, of loving someone but that love not being returned. Sharing with others but knowing they can't really understand why you want to end your life. Not being able to cry anymore because the pain is so much more than that. I do now, but, don't worry, I ain't suicidal.
It ain't easy being a teenager. What with school (prison more like), puberty and the whole emphasis on relationships, sex and all that comes with it. I thought Moles whole depression over Tate would be over in like two weeks but she stayed in that dark place for ages. She was constantly crying, barely eating and talked about putting an end to it all. I tried to remind her of better days like that time when we went swimming in the lake and we hung each other to dry, or when we stole the Hamilton boys clothes while they were swimming in the lake. But even when there was a slight smile, as quick as a flash, she went back to that blank expression which said, in its silence, stop the world I wanna get off.
Here's where my nightmare begins. I've had it every night since, well, since. It always starts the same. The Spinney. A dark forest of tall trees and over-grown weeds, it's autumn so the tree branches look like bony fingers ready to touch you, there are leaves all over the ground that crunch when you step on them and the mist is lifting over the lake.It must of rained the night before cos there's that smell of damp soil, rotting leaves and tree bark and a few scattered puddles. It's a bit eerie, could be the set of one of those shit teen horrors where they start in a group and one by one get killed off in the forest cos no one can hear them in the depths of the forest. The type of film where they're kinda asking for it, do things that you just wouldn't do in real life like run towards danger instead of away. I see Moles and another girl. I know the girl, already know what she'll do and when, but I can't stop her, just gotta let the dream ride. The other girl is of course me. Well in the sense that she looks like me, talks, walks etc. but i'm screaming at her cos I already know the ending of this dream. My screams go unheard. I give up. Here goes. We're by the den, Moles is by the edge of the lake, I think of all the times we spent just sitting at the edge dashing pebbles and seeing who got the furthest. We're at one with nature. Moles insisted we didn't bring any mobiles. Didn't know why but I do now. What happens next happens so fast that if you blink you'll miss it. Moles dives into the lake, she's usually a don at swimming but she's not attempting to swim, she's trying to inhale underwater, is more or less drowning but on purpose. I dive in to save her, finally the swimming lessons have paid off . She's wet and cold but i'm faced with a dilemma, I don't have a phone, The Spinney's in the middle of nowhere, I don't have anything to dry her off with and well, I can't just leave her on own now, can I? Oh and I'm in shock.
Here's where shock takes over my body. The person who acts next may possess my body but it's not me. I pick Moles limp, semi conscious body up and do what we used to do as kids, hang her out to dry. By this I mean, I take her, put her neck in the hole of the ropey thingymajig in the den and kinda just leave her there to dry. She looks like a scarecrow. How am I s'pposed to know the, what d-ya mi-call it, noose is too tight and Moles' will die of a combo of strangulation and pneumonia. It's a logical step when you think about it, common sense really, what do you do when somethings wet, well you hang it up to dry, don't ya? I did it out of love but in the end I s'ppose I killed her. Ever heard of someone loving someone so much that they killed them. I have, it's the story of me and my best friend.