Suicide Notes

Prologue

Anna-

No! The scream tore from my lips as I raced into the bathroom, slipping and falling into the puddle of bloody water slowly spreading across the tiled floor. Crawling to my hands and knees, I scrambled to the edge of the tub, not caring my clothes were soaking up the offensive fluid. Help! Somebody help me! The panicked cry left my throat feeling shredded, as I plunged my hands into the red water seeping over the porcelain edge, dragging Jessi’s face back to the surface.

Her long blonde hair clumped limply around my hands and I shook her violently. Jessi! A long painful howl escaped me. Oh, God! Please don’t let her be dead! My whole body trembled as I tried to pull her from the tub; but she was too heavy. Somebody help me! I screamed again, my shriek echoing off the walls. I stood there, alone and in shock, holding her slack body above the waterline.

What’s going on? Danica's panicked voice drifted from the hallway along with the sound of running feet.

Call an ambulance! I yelled.

Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Danica's terrified voice reverberated shrilly through my head as she entered the room behind me. Caleb! We need you!

Danica's hands dipped into the water, grabbing Jessi by her jeans, and the two of us struggled to drag her out.

No, Jessi! No! Danica wailed.

Strong arms scooped Jessi up, relieving us of the burden and I glanced over to see Caleb’s stricken face as he lifted her, moving her onto the floor.

Do something! Danica hollered, her hands sliding to her cheeks in horror.

Mom, go call 911! Caleb commanded the hysterical Danica, and she rushed from the room.

My fingers drifted to Jessi’s neck, automatically seeking a pulse. I can’t find anything! I said, my voice shaking.

Caleb shook his head. We’re too late. Tears slipped over the rims of his eyes. In all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen him cry. Ever. This was bad.

No! We can’t give up! I argued, placing my hands on Jessi’s chest. Pressing down, I began counting as I started CPR. She was my best friend in the whole world! I couldn’t lose her!

Anna . . . Caleb’s voice barely registered, as I focused in on Jessi’s mascara streaked face, watching for any sign of life. Annalisa! He shouted my full name, breaking through my cloudy mind. I glanced at him briefly, not stopping. Look at her! She’s lost too much blood. Who knows how long she’s been in here.

She called me an hour ago! I replied in a sob, continuing to work. Water bubbled through her blue lips as I pushed. Caleb helped me roll her to the side, letting it drain, and I checked again for a pulse. Nothing.

Gently laying her back down, I leaned over her once more.

Anna, Caleb said flatly.

What? I snapped, knowing he was trying to tell me something I didn’t want to hear. I was determined to do whatever I could.

The wounds in her wrists are deep. There’s no blood coming from them. I think she’s bled out.

Glancing at the damaged flesh, I saw he was right, but I couldn’t make myself stop.

I can’t lose her, Caleb, I replied, hearing the defeat in my own voice, but still continuing the compressions.

He didn’t fight me, instead joining me, breathing into her mouth at the appropriate intervals. Danica reappeared, the phone pressed to her ear. Shakily, she shouted instructions from the dispatcher. Ages passed before I heard the wail of sirens, followed by a bustle of people entering the small bathroom, carrying a bunch of gear.

Strong arms wrapped around me, dragging me away from my friend and into the hallway. Let them do their job, Caleb’s voice whispered in my ear. Even though he was trembling, he didn’t let go of me and, for that, I was grateful. I wasn’t sure if I could stand on my own.

Unable to see much through the crowd of bodies, I waited for someone to tell us something. It wasn’t long before a man slipped from the room, casting a sympathetic glance in our direction. Walking several steps down the hall, he disappeared around the corner. Clearly trying to keep us from overhearing, his words stabbed me as he spoke softly into his radio. Dispatch? We need the coroner.

Danica wailed and sank to the floor.

Go to her, I said, pushing Caleb in her direction. He released me and I dropped to my knees, unable to swallow past the huge knot in my throat. A choking sob escaped me as I watched Caleb gather his stepmom into his embrace, the two of them clutching each other desperately.

Reality punched me straight in the stomach. My best friend was dead. Jessi had committed suicide and I had no idea why. What had happened? What had I missed? I thought I knew everything about her! This couldn’t be happening—it had to be a horrible nightmare or something, right? I couldn’t have missed something so important, could I?

Glancing down at my wet, bloody clothes, I felt the bile rise into my throat. Covering my mouth with my hand, I stumbled to my feet and ran toward the downstairs bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before I vomited.

1

Anna-

Different floral aromas mixed together, filling the room in the tiny, nondenominational church with their scents. A minister whom I’d never met, and was certain Jessi didn’t know, was telling the congregation about the meaning of life and how much she would be missed. Honestly, listening to him was making me slightly angry. What right did a stranger have to tell us about her?

Sitting in fold out chairs with the rest of Caleb’s roommates and band members, I glanced to the row ahead, where Caleb had his arm draped around his stepmom. Danica had taken funeral black dramatically over the top with her outfit—a suit that was slightly too low cut in front to be appropriate, as well as too short, with spiked black heels. Underneath a black flowered hat, complete with a short veil that draped over half her face, her blonde hair and pale skin were the only color that broke up the morbid ensemble. I found it interesting that even though her husband, Hank, was sitting stoically next to her, it was Caleb she kept leaning toward and weeping against.

Except for their tall height, Caleb was nothing like his dad. I couldn’t really compare their hair color, since Caleb had been dying his for years. When he was younger, his natural color was medium brown, if I remembered correctly. Now, it was black, except for a small patch of blonde that had been bleached into the ends of his long bangs. Where his dad kept his hair buzzed short, Caleb wore his longer, shaggier around his ears, and longer on his neck. It was all part of his rocker persona as the lead guitarist in our band, Fringe. Caleb was friendly, warm and outgoing. Hank McCord was not—having even served jail time in the past for spousal abuse. I never could figure out why Danica stayed with him. When Hank was home, Jessi had spent as much time away from the house with Caleb, or me, as possible. Neither she nor Caleb got along with their dad.

As if he could feel me staring at him, Caleb glanced over his shoulder to where I was sitting, shooting a half smile in my direction before reaching back to pat my knee. Doing okay? he mouthed and I nodded briefly, staring sympathetically into his bright blue eyes before he turned around.

Caleb was classically handsome. Drop dead gorgeous hot might be better terminology, actually. Even Jessi used to bemoan the fact he was her stepbrother—not that he would’ve paid attention to either of us. He was over three years older than me and almost four years older than Jessi. He was a sophomore in college and twenty-one years old. We were high school seniors and way beneath his notice—at least until the day his band lost their lead singer and Jessi convinced him to let me audition.

The guys weren’t too keen on having a girl in their band, especially one so young; but I had the pipes for it and it turned out to be an amazing fit for all of us. I went from being an only child, who wished for a brother, to having four very overprotective older adopted brothers. Caleb, the twins, Rick and Riley Forrester, and Justin Stedman, who insisted we call him Stix because he thought it sounded like a cool drummer name. Though I loved them all desperately, I wasn’t sure I liked them always looking over my shoulder, threatening every guy who tried to date Jessi or me. They were constantly running off potential boyfriends.

Now, what would it be like with her gone?

Anna, do you ever think about what it would be like to die? Our conversation from a week ago suddenly popped into my head.

Puzzled, I glanced at her. Under normal circumstances, I’d have thought she was joking; but she seemed so serious.

Can’t say that I have, honestly. Why?

Jessi shrugged, pulling the light jacket she was wearing tighter around her. No reason, really. I just wonder if it hurts. She flicked her long blonde hair behind her shoulder, briefly casting a sidelong look at me.

Well, I guess that would depend on how you died.

True.

What brought all this on? I asked, confused by her line of questioning.

She laughed. Nothing really. Just my crazy mind. You know how it is. How’s the new song coming along? She changed the subject without answering.

The conversation suddenly seemed very ominous now, as if it were a foreshadowing of what would come. I should’ve pressed harder to discover what was bothering her. What if she was trying to reach out and I wasn’t listening? Was her death my fault? Had I been a bad friend who didn’t pay attention to what was going on?

Tears leaked from my eyes at the thought of her hurting and having no one to turn to. Why wouldn’t she have gone to Caleb if I weren’t listening? Had she spoken to him and I just didn’t know about it? Even though they were stepbrother and sister, not even related by blood, they were very close. Did he know what had happened?

Staring at the urn that rested among sprays of funeral arrangements near a smiling picture of Jessi, I suddenly felt a wave of panic wash through me. She was gone—really gone. This wasn’t a game we were playing. It was reality. She wouldn’t be coming back after we were done with all this funeral stuff.

Flashes of the bloody water that plagued my nightmares came unbidden into my mind, bringing the nausea with it. Suddenly the room felt unbearably hot and oppressive. Unable to take it for another second, I leapt from my seat, rushed up the aisle, toward the double doors, before bursting outside into the filtered light from the cloudy gray skies that too often frequented Bainbridge Island. The smell of the water from Puget Sound drew my attention to a small area on the church grounds overlooking the harbor, and to the Seattle skyline in the distance. I could clearly make out the Space Needle, set slightly off to the north of the other downtown skyscrapers. A large, white ferry was making one of its many daily trips across the water toward the island and, for a moment, I was tempted to run to the dock and escape into the city for a while. I wanted to be somewhere else—anywhere else—but here, at the memorial service for my best friend.

Anna? Are you all right? Caleb’s rich baritone voice floated over me, soothing me instantly.

No. I spoke without turning, my voice barely a whisper. I can’t be in there. It makes me feel sick.

Me, too, he answered softly, coming to stand beside me. The two of us stared across the water together for several moments.

Did she talk to you? I finally asked, not caring if my timing was callous. I had to know.

No. He didn’t offer anything else.

This is tearing me up inside. How did I miss something so horrible that it made her kill herself? Was she afraid to talk to me? What could’ve been so awful that taking her life seemed like the only possible way out? A sob escaped me.

Stop it, Anna. You’re going to tear yourself apart if you keep on like this. His lean muscled arms wrapped around my waist, turning me and dragging me into his embrace.

Pounding a fist lightly against his hard chest, I buried my face against his black button up shirt, wrapping my arms tighter around him as the floodgates opened, once again. I can’t do this, Caleb. I need to know what happened. I need someone to tell me why!

He didn’t reply; instead, he simply held me in his arms. For whatever reason, those arms suddenly seemed like the safest place in the world to me. Caleb was steady. He’d always been that way, knowing exactly what he wanted from life and where he was going with it. He was one of the most levelheaded people I knew and, in spite of our age difference, he was probably my closest friend next to Jessi. I trusted him more than anyone.

I’m sorry, I said, my voice muffled against his clothing. You’re hurting, too. Don’t worry about me. I’ll figure my crap out. Your family needs you right now and I’m keeping you from them.

You’re my family too, Anna. You always have been. Besides, my mom insisted I come make sure you were okay.

Grimacing, I pulled away. So, you were sent to babysit me?

He laughed heartily. Not at all. I wanted to come. You’re important to me. His expression grew serious. Besides, no one thinks of you as a baby anymore, Anna. Especially not me. Moving, he stroked a thumb briefly across my cheek.

Help me find out what happened to Jessi. Please? I pleaded, placing my hand on his, stilling it against my face. I need to know so I can put her to rest in my heart.

Staring at me, his eyes misted briefly. I’ll help you, but you need to be careful.

What do you mean? I asked.

He shrugged. It’s obvious she had secrets. Secrets can often be very hurtful.

I nodded. I understand; but at least, then, I’ll know.

Knowing isn’t always better. Sometimes it’s just knowing. The answers you’re looking for aren’t going to change anything. She’ll still be gone after you find them.

Releasing his hand I stepped closer, placing my palms against his face. I have this horrible fear I did something wrong—that this was somehow my fault—that I missed whatever it was that would’ve stopped her.

Caleb grabbed my upper arms and shook me. Don’t ever talk like that again! Do you hear me? None of this was your fault. I don’t care if you did miss something. Jessi was a big girl, capable of making her own choices. She chose to kill herself, his voice trembled as he continued, "and even if we did miss something, it was still her choice. All the blame for that rests on her. Do you understand? She could’ve come to anyone of us for help . . . me, you, my mom—your parents, even. Instead, she ended it. Her fault, not yours. Stop trying to take the blame."

Anna? Caleb? My mom’s voice called, interrupting us before I could reply. Is everything okay?

Turning, I saw her coming down the path toward us.

We’re fine, Mom. I just had a bit of a panic attack in the church and needed to get some fresh air.

Her eyes drifted to where Caleb still roughly held me in his grasp. Releasing me and stepping away, the red marks where his fingers had been faded away quickly. Sorry, he apologized immediately. I didn’t mean to hurt you.

Shaking my head, I replied, You didn’t hurt me. Thanks for listening to me, though.

And you’ll remember what I said? he asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

I’ll try.

He sighed in exasperation.

I’ll try harder. I groaned, rolling my eyes. Sorry, but that’s the best I can give you right now.

You’d better get inside, Caleb, my mom spoke up. They’re singing the closing hymn. Your mom will need you. I doubt Hank will stick around any longer than necessary.

I’m sure you’re right about that. Talk to you lovely ladies later. He winked at me before hurrying back inside.

Mom and I watched him go.

It’s amazing to me how that kid came from Hank, unless Hank gave him every single good characteristic he had and didn’t keep any for himself. Caleb is so kind and considerate of everyone and Hank is . . . well, Hank. I’ve never seen two people more unalike.

Caleb has a heart of gold, I agreed, slipping an arm around her waist as we began strolling back toward the church together.

She hugged me around my shoulders. Kind of like you, huh?

I gave a short snort in reply. Hardly.

Are you going to be all right, sweetie? Your dad and I have been really worried about you for the last few days. Concern was written all over her face, her furrowed brow mixing with the sorrow in her eyes.

I don’t know how to go on without Jessi, I admitted, sharing the ache inside me.

She squeezed me lightly. You don’t have to. Keep her alive in your heart and, for now, focus on living one day at a time. That’s all any of us can do.

2

Caleb-

Listening to the arguing downstairs made me want to throw my clothes into my bag and head back across the harbor to the loft I shared with the guys downtown. Guilt kept me from actually doing it. There was no way I could abandon Danica right now and leave her alone with my dad.

Fighting was one of the primary reasons I’d hightailed it out of this place as soon as I was able. I couldn’t take the constant bickering. Living with my old man was pure hell, plain and simple. Bitter and angry had been his key attitudes since my mom left us, when I was little. How he even managed to find someone to marry him again, I would never know. Maybe Danica had been hoping to find someone to be a father to Jessi, but if that were the case then she’d struck out big time. My dad wasn’t even a good father to me, his own flesh and blood, let alone Jessi.

Images from the night he beat up Danica flashed through my mind. I could still hear her protests ringing in my ears as I dialed 911. She didn’t want to make my dad even angrier. I didn’t care. He needed to pay for what he’d done. He served a year in prison, but she didn’t leave him. She stayed and was a good mom to Jessi and me. That year was one of the happiest I remembered. Dad was released and never hit her again, that I knew of, but he was still violent. Yelling and throwing things across the room if things didn’t go just the way he wanted them to, became the norm. I wondered if she would stay with him, now.

Even though I came back often, to make sure she and Jessi were doing okay, it was never a place I wanted to be. Glancing around at the shelves holding memorabilia from my high school days, I realized that other than taking my guitar and music, I’d left most of my previous life here in my room—abandoned. Now that Jessi was gone, I didn’t think I wanted to ever be in this house again. There wasn’t anywhere I could look and not see her presence.

Reaching for the notebook I wrote my lyric ideas in, I flipped to where I’d been working on my latest song, and froze. My hands trembled when I saw the folded piece of paper with my name on it stuck between the pages. I recognized the handwriting immediately. Opening it carefully, the first few words gave me pause.

Caleb, please forgive me for what I’m about to do . . .

It