Dying to Forget (13 page)

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Authors: Trish Marie Dawson

BOOK: Dying to Forget
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“Edith will explain to you what has happened.” He steps slightly away from the brunette woman, who smiles weakly at the crowd.

“Who is she?” Kerry-Anne whispers at my shoulder.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before,” I whisper back with a gentle shake of my head and a subtle lift of my shoulder.

“Hello everyone. And thank you, Niles.” She pauses to smile at him and I see a subtle look exchange between them. Something more than friendship seems to pass between their gazes.
No way.
Could there be love in the after-life?
Well, that’s…surprising.

“To start, I feel it is incumbent to mention this is not something that happens often here at the Station. In fact, I remember only one other case such as this in my time as one of your mentors.”

Mentor. Ah…so that’s what she’s called. Does this mean that Niles is a ‘mentor’ too?

“Some of you that were removed from your current cases are New Arrivals. And to ensure that what has happened does not happen again, we have brought all of you here today to make doubly certain that all New Arrivals are
completely clear
of the Station’s rules and expectations as Volunteers. Those of you that are seasoned Volunteer’s and staff members are here as a reminder that even you can make mistakes.”

Oh wow.

“You all know that after your orientation, training sessions and the invaluable time you have spent with your Intake Specialist, our number one job here at the Station is to help prevent others from taking their own lives. This is what we do. Those who choose not to devote the rest of their existence here can opt-out at any time.”

The crowd is deathly quiet.
Oh, get on with it, what’s happened?

She takes a deep breath before continuing. “One of our New Arrival Volunteer’s has helped his Assignment commit suicide.” Everyone gasps this time, including me.

 

***

 

Niles stands absolutely still, with his mouth pressed into a straight, tight line. The two men on the other side of Edith gaze out at the crowd with wary expressions. I look around me nervously, wondering if the Volunteer she mentioned is here somewhere hiding in the crowd. Apparently, I’m not the only one with this idea, since everyone seems to be taking long, hard looks at their neighbors.

Kerry-Anne grips onto my arm even tighter. “Who do you think it was?” She asks over the low but growing sounds of whispered hushes around us.

“I don’t know.”

I shake my head slowly from side to side, and catch a glimpse of Niles looking in my direction. I feel my body tense and chill. Is he looking at…
me
? No, he can’t be. I know exactly what happened with Sloan, and he was alive and well when I was pulled back to the Station. The people that stand around me start to move away. I glance down quickly at Kerry-Anne but she is almost a foot shorter than I am and it seems as if Niles is looking right
at
me…or maybe it's just above me?

I turn around slowly and standing just inches behind me is Beady Eyes. The impatient, chunky boy from my first training class backs away from me when our eyes lock. Even though no one has said it yet, I know without a doubt and he must see it on my fearful expression.
He is the one.

Kerry-Anne jumps against me when Niles calls out loudly in our direction. “Joseph Selfridge, please come here.”

I gape at Beady Eyes as he blanches at the mention of his name and slowly pushes past me, moving at a snail’s pace toward the fountain where the four Mentors wait quietly with flat expressions. His sweat pants hang awkwardly around his thick waist and his tight undershirt hugs every pudgy inch of his torso. Many people at the Station are barefoot but Beady Eyes is wearing a pair of faded
Sketchers
that squeak softly when he walks.
I move my naked feet away from his instinctually, remembering how he stepped on me with no regard, or remorse, before our first training class.

After Beady Eyes reaches the fountain, he stands with his arms at his thighs, tugging on the sides of his pants, looking down at the ground like a young child waits for a reprimand. His head hangs low while he shuffles his feet nervously.

What are they going to do to him?

Edith speaks softly but loud enough that I’m sure most of the onlookers can still hear her. “Joseph, you have intentionally violated our most cardinal rule.” She glares down at his thick brown hair. He still hangs his head and hasn’t looked up at her yet. I don't blame him. I'm scared, myself. Edith continues, “We have two basic functions here. One: Train those who choose to become Volunteers so that they may save a life. Two: Help those that opt-out of volunteering to move on.”

The crowd stands in silence, not breathing, not moving. Kerry-Anne squeezes tighter onto my arm and I use my free hand to pat her wrist, reassuringly. I’m thankful in that moment that we can’t experience pain anymore. I’m pretty sure the circulation in my arm is cut off and that she is only an ounce of pressure away from popping my arm right out of my shoulder joint.

“Look at me, Joseph.” Edith says the words carefully but forcefully.

After a long pause, he tilts his head up slightly to meet Edith’s icy stare. I can see that the side of his face is trembling and I’m sure he’s crying. Her expression softens slightly but she is still glaring at him in a way that I hope she
never
looks at me. “Since you have broken every rule imaginable as a Volunteer and not only allowed, but
encouraged
your Assignment to kill himself, you have forfeited your right to remain here at the Station.”

A low rumble picks up momentum through the crowd but quiets when Niles raises a hand above his head. Niles can be scary too, if he needed to be. His face shows no signs of his usual gentle demeanor. I don’t allow us to make eye contact because I'm sure I'd cry if he ever looked at me this way.

“Have you anything to say?" She asks the words curtly and Joseph Beady Eyes shakes his head slowly.

She continues immediately, "You have no choice but to move on, Joseph.”

Oh no. Does this mean he moves on…like to the next place, or does this mean he moves on to a Hell of his own making?

When my eyes dart over to Niles again, he is now looking at Joseph Beady Eyes with a sad expression. I think I understand which version of moving on Edith is referring to. And it’s my turn to squeeze Kerry-Anne’s arm. I bite down on my lip to keep it from trembling.

“Please go with Hector, Joseph. You need to be processed out of the Station.”

The man in the military outfit steps down from the fountain rim and nods at Joseph Beady Eyes to walk with him. I wonder why he hasn’t said one word in his defense.
Maybe he has none?
He walks slowly next to Hector as a wide berth is created in front of them. People clear the space quickly, almost like they are afraid of making any physical contact with the Volunteer who failed…
on purpose
.

Why would he do that?
I imagine every moment I had with Sloan. Never once did I think he
should
die. I have so many questions, but I’m not sure who to ask. We all watch as Hector and Joseph Beady Eyes…forever to be known now as the Volunteer Who Killed His Assignment, walk briskly away. They enter the main door to the Admissions Department and I wonder briefly if Tight Bun Lady is waiting inside for him with paperwork in hand. This time, I don’t laugh.

CHAPTER 15
 

 

 

I walk with Kerry-Anne to the Staff building with a large group of teen Volunteers. Some of them I’ve seen before but I don't know most of the young faces. Niles is somewhere up front, leading the group. We slowly file into the meeting room where I met Mallory for the first time. I end up on the far-side of the table, with Kerry-Anne still tightly wrapped around my arm. Slowly I start recognizing the others who were in Orientation with me. All except the one boy who chose to opt-out on his own.

Niles is standing at the head of the table with his hands resting on top of the oversized black office chair. He waits patiently as the tail-end of the large group struggles to fit into the room. Bodies are pressed all around me and I try to make my narrow frame as small as possible. A tall boy wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs leans against my right hip. I’m not sure whether to laugh at the close contact with a practically nude boy, or cry.
Whatever you do, don’t look down.
I tell myself this as I chew on my lower lip. It’s not an appropriate time to laugh
or
cry.

A loud throat-clearing commands the room and I look at Niles as he begins to speak. “Thank you everyone for your patience. My name is Niles Abbott. Some of you know me as a Station Mentor; a few of you know me as your Intake Specialist. I’ve been asked to pull your age group aside while the other Mentor’s do the same with the rest of your fellow Volunteers. I’ll try and make this quick so that you can all get back to work.”

Oh good. Back to Sloan!
My heart picks up an extra beat or two.
Wow, I really miss him.

“First though, let me explain to you what has happened. After that, I’ll take your questions…and then you can go back to the Consignment Department to pick up your next case.”

Wait, what? Our
next
case?
Nervously, I finger the cool glass card that is tucked into the waistband of my sleep shorts.

“So, I’m sure you put together by now that Mr. Selfridge, in short…
failed
as a Volunteer. We don’t use that term here for many reasons. You all know that you can’t force your Assignments to make the right or safe choices you suggest.”

I laugh on the inside, because I know differently. I remember screaming at Sloan to get up by making him think he was on fire. The memory makes me smile a bit, but I turn my attention back to Niles.

“…Since you can’t
force
your Assignments to succeed, we don’t consider their deaths as your failure. What happened with Mr. Selfridge is completely different. It would be a violation of his Assignment's confidentiality to discuss with you the details of his case, but what I can say, is that he was a very needy person. Mr. Selfridge gave up on assisting his needs. In fact, he encouraged the young man to take his own life and that of several other people, which is why you won’t see this Assignment here at the Station.”

Some of us gasp, some of us murmur. I stand still and quiet, slightly horrified and even more so - confused. I don’t get why Beady Eyes would become a Volunteer if he didn’t want to truly help someone. It’s selfish beyond the definition of the word. I would die…many times over…to save Sloan.

“…As Miss Edith explained, this doesn’t happen often. It’s very rare, so rare in fact that we don’t have an actual protocol in place for handling such situations. The only option was to force Mr. Selfridge to move on. And he didn’t move on to the next phase of the journey that you all will eventually take, if you continue doing exceptional jobs as Volunteers.”

Oh, this is new.
It’s been mentioned vaguely in brief conversations that there is something after the Station, though no one, even Niles, seems to understand what it is.

“Something happened with Mr. Selfridge’s group of New Arrivals that frankly scared the other Mentors, including myself. All of you received your First Assignment rather quickly and your matches were…not typical.” He pauses to let this sink in.

I look around the room. First at Kerry-Anne, who seems confused and not sure what Niles is saying, and then I search out each and every one of the teens that I remember from my Orientation.

Niles continues, “So, we were afraid that perhaps there wasn’t enough solid training for this particular group, or that something in the matching process went awry, and we brought back every Volunteer…with the exception of a few very seasoned people who were on top priority cases.”

Top priority?
I didn’t know there was such a thing.

“After reviewing the cases that all New Arrivals received, it seems that all of them have been extremely dedicated Volunteers. And this makes us very happy.” His eyes flick to mine and he smiles briefly at me. I gulp and force myself to smile faintly back.

“Now. I know some of you were in various stages of your cases when you were brought back. Unfortunately, you cannot return to the same Assignment once you leave, we don’t have the ability to send you back. Our hope is that you left an impression that will make a difference. That’s all we can expect from those cases.”

I’m so sad I think I might cry and I bite down on my lip again. Hard.

“What you can do now, is return to the Consignment Department and let them know you are ready for your next case. Unless you feel you need more training, which is always open for New or Old Arrivals. I think I’ve covered most of the basics, do you have any questions?”

I can’t go back to see Sloan.
So no, I don’t have any questions.

 

***

 

“Piper, can you wait for just a minute, please?”

Crap.
I was hoping I could sneak outside before Niles caught me. I just need some fresh air. Though I’m not sure if outside really
is
outside, at least there aren’t overcrowded meeting rooms with half-naked boys to rub hips with.

I nod at him and step back against the wall to let the other’s file out into the hallway. Kerry-Anne stands hesitantly at my side, so I lean down and hug her.

“Don’t worry. Meet me at the fountain?” I ask.

“Sure.” She smiles and falls behind the tall semi-nude guy that was standing near us. She’s one of the last to exit the room. Suddenly I feel anxious to be alone with Niles, as if I’m in trouble. I really don’t want him to be angry with me.

Did I do something wrong with Sloan?

“Please, sit down Piper.” He smiles gently and I let some of the anxiety fade away.

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