I
Now you’re almost at the end.
The hall was flooded with people, drowning in bodies. The rows of chairs and stage were still there, but now they were covered with moving figures and broken limbs. And they were all dressed up, wearing grotesque masks to cover their identities; acting as ghosts, ghouls, demons, devils, sorcerers, shadows, beasts, scarecrows, caliginents, witches. They surrounded Saffron, pulling her into their madness of anonymity. And they were drinking, consuming litres of alcohol as they downed drink after drink after drink.
In the centre of the madness was a banner, hanging across the stage. A banner that had been made of several pieces of paper stitched together like an amalgamation of a monster. It had large, messy letters across it that read, Happy Twentieth Birthday. Happy?
“Happy birthday, Phire!” Is it happy? “Do you like your party?” The blue-haired person smiled behind a ghostly mask, running their tongue over their silvered canines. “We made it just for you.”
“It’s not as good as it would be if we were free in Medlock, but this is the best we’ve got here,” the person with facial piercings started with their widened, unblinking eyes. “And I think it’s pretty good.” They had glowing face paint over them, covering their body in marks and symbols.
Music blared in the background. It sounded like choral music with synthesised instruments and a heavy electronic beat that pushed the tempo on. Saffron tried to focus on it as the colours and creatures of the room blurred together, dizzying her mind, accelerating her fear. No one stood still, as everything was constantly moving, constantly spinning, constantly laughing.
“Only pretty good?” Ashiya smiled. She stood right next to Saffron, wearing a lacy black mask over her face, flowing down from a black hijab. “I think it’s better than that.”
“It will be soon.” The blue-haired person laughed. They held out their hand to Saffron, offering her half of a crumbled pill. It looked like the same one she had taken at the séance.
Saffron shook her head as her mouth dried with the memory of its acidic taste. “No, not again, I don’t want—”
“Come on, Phire.” They moved their hand closer to her. “I promise it’ll make this night a lot more fun.”
“It definitely made the séance more fun,” the one with facial piercings sneered.
“No.” She pushed their hand away.
“Are you sure?” The blue-haired person dangled the pill over their mouth. “Last chance?”
“You need to relax, seriously.” The other grinned. “Look around. It’s great here, isn’t it? I can’t believe we didn’t use this hall for all our parties before, instead of freezing ourselves outside. Look, there’s no security cameras anywhere.” No security cameras. No one is watching. Right?
Saffron looked at the people around her. At the masks. The shadows. The drinks. The alcohol. So much alcohol. Too much. Far too much. The decorations. The audience. The voices shouting over one another. Everything swirling into a mess of colours. Everyone blurring together. She looked at her feet, at her plain white tennis shoes, at everyone’s shoes, at Indie’s trainers, Ray’s trainers, Ashiya’s boots—
“We thought you’d enjoy the fancy-dress theme. Don’t you love a good mask?” Ashiya smiled, handing Saffron a lacy black mask that matched hers.
Saffron didn’t take it. But why not? You love putting on masks. It must be second nature by now. Or maybe even first.
“Come on. Take it. Join the fun. After all, a forbidden costume party is the perfect celebration for a rebellious little revolver like you, isn’t it?”
Saffron still didn’t take the mask. Her hands were fidgeting, tapping against her thigh.
“Okay, I won’t force you to wear one.” Ashiya laughed, putting the mask into her pocket as she moved her body along with the heavy music.
You don’t have time for any of this. There were only thin streaks of sunlight coming through the small windows, slowly giving in to the night’s darkness.
“I don’t have time for this.” Saffron turned towards the door, but there were so many other prisoners in the way, moving, dancing, spinning. The whole room was spinning.
“Come on, Phire!” the blue-haired person shouted after her. “Don’t you want to have some fun?”
She ignored them as she pushed her way through the crowd, through the masks, through the costumes, through the laughter—
“Hey.” Ashiya appeared next to her again. “I know you don’t like birthdays after what happened last year.” Last year when Ray died. “Indie said you weren’t really in the mood this year either. Which is understandable, of course.” How the Hell could anyone be in the mood after their best friend died? “But that shouldn’t stop you from celebrating and having a little fun.” How can you celebrate when Ray is dead? How can anyone be celebrating when Ray is dead?
“It’s fine”—is it? “I’m fine”—are you? “It’s just…a lot.” Saffron tried to shout over the beat of the music. So you’re still pretending to be fine? You’re still pretending nothing is the matter when everything is?
“Surely we can have a little fun, Phire.” Ashiya laughed.
Phire. Why is she still calling you Phire? “Wait. You called me Saffron before.”
“So?” Ashiya laughed again.
“So you know Sapphire isn’t actually my name.”
“I know.” And again. “But that doesn’t mean ‘Phire’ doesn’t suit you well, being a dangerous little flame.” Ashiya took hold of Saffron’s hand, pulling her back to the group. “Come on. Relax a little, would you? I know you’ve been having a difficult time with the drug, so—”
Wait. Saffron stopped moving. How does she know you took the drug? You never told her. “How do you know I took the drug?”
Ashiya looked Saffron up and down. “You make it pretty obvious, don’t you think?”
Obvious? Saffron pulled her hand back from Ashiya. You’re not very good at pretending everything is fine. Everyone can see through your mask. So why are you still wearing it?
“Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that obvious.” Ashiya tried to take her hand again, but Saffron didn’t let her. “Okay. Moses told me the drug’s side effects have been particularly bad for you. That’s why I know.”
Moses? “Moses told you?” Ray’s Dad told her.
“It’s okay, Phire. It’ll wear off. The drug can be tough in the first week, but it should get better. It always gets better.”
It doesn’t get better. “I don’t think anything will get better,” Saffron tried to turn away, tried to walk away, tried to get away—
But Ashiya pulled her back in, bringing her closer. “It will get better, Phire.” Stop saying that. Stop being so patronising. “How are the side effects today? How have you been doing?”
Tell her you’re fine. Why wouldn’t the great Phire be fine? What could possibly be wrong with her? What could possibly be eating her alive? “It’s been fine.”
“Has it?” Ashiya raised an eyebrow as she studied Saffron’s face. “Moses said he wasn’t sure if you—”
“Moses?” Again? “Why are you speaking to him?” Saffron said louder, trying to cut across the thudding music. “Do you know him?”
“Sort of.”
Sort of? “What do you mean ‘sort of’?” How would she know Ray’s Dad? How would she know the evil mastermind behind all of this? The person who founded the company that killed Ray?
“It’s complicated.”
She’s not answering you again. She’s not telling you everything.
“Complicated?”
“Yeah.” Ashiya kept up her smile. “Everything is always complicated, isn’t it?”
She’s still not answering you. Why isn’t she answering you?
“No. What is it? What’s going on?” Get her to tell you. “Just tell me.” Get her to answer you. “Just answer me.”
Ashiya looked around the room, watching people push past her, dancing, swirling, drinking, spinning, talking, laughing. Then she turned back to Saffron and took her hand again. She pulled her in closer. “Can I trust you?”
No. Definitely not. “Of course.”
“I might not be here next week. I think I’m leaving.”
“Leaving?” Already? “How can you be leaving so soon?”
“I’m not really a ‘prisoner’ here.”
“What do you mean?” If she’s not a prisoner, what is she?
Ashiya spoke quieter. “I’m working for the mayor.”
“What?” Saffron shouted, but her voice was lost in the beat of the music. Did she just say she’s working for the mayor? “Did you just say you’re working for—”
“Keep your voice down.” Ashiya pulled her in closer again. “Listen. I was sent here to investigate Detention.” Sent here? “The mayor wants to change this whole place, to make it more ‘financially viable.’ So my job has been to prove how it’s incapable of working in its current state.”
“What?” Saffron didn’t believe it.
“So that’s why I’ve been pushing every boundary I can and throwing all these parties and séances and everything.” She’s allowed to push boundaries but she can’t be stupid.
“What?” Saffron couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe anyone.
“I know it’s a lot.” Ashiya pulled her in closer again. “But it’s worked out pretty well, right?” And again. “Getting all these great little parties to ourselves. The teachers never even notice until we’re at least several hours in. They’re definitely incapable.” And again.
“What the Hell are you talking about?”
“I also reported the officer who hurt you. So it’s a good thing I’m here, really. I can help keep you safe.”
Keep you safe? “You reported him?” No one can keep you safe.
“Yes. And I can do it again with anyone who hurts you. I can help you out while I’m still here.”
She can’t help you. She’s been lying to you. They’ve all been lying to you. “How can you help me when you’ve been lying to me?”
“I’m pretty sure you’ve lied to me too, Saffron. I know you getting sent here wasn’t quite as simple as you just putting on those protests with Indie.”
Saffron hesitated for a moment. “Does that mean you knew who I was from the start?”
“I was sent here to create some chaos. So of course I was going to make friends with someone like you. You should be flattered, really. You have a little reputation in the mayor’s office—”
“So everything has been a lie?”
“No. I told you, I just love putting on performances.” Ashiya gave her usual bright, melodic laugh. You love putting on performances too. “Anyway, I thought you should know, as it looks like they might be pulling me out of here soon. Hopefully after we perform the play.”
Don’t listen to her. Saffron couldn’t concentrate. She couldn’t focus on Ashiya. She couldn’t put up with yet another person lying to her, yet another person wearing a false mask and pretending to be something they’re not. Just. Like. She was. “I can’t do this.” Saffron turned away. “I have to get out of here.”
The music picked up speed. The people danced heavier, faster, quicker. They were drowning in cups of alcohol, stealing air from one another, strangling one another, falling into one another in jerks of movement, spinning against the room, blurring into one confusing mess of a world. Drowning in liquid. Drowning in life. Drowning just like Ray.
“Wait.” Ashiya pulled her back in closer again. She took off her lacy black mask. “Are you okay? The drug really does seem to have done something to you.”
Don’t answer her. Don’t trust her. She’s lying to you. Just as you’re lying to everyone else. “You were never going to have the drug were you?”
“I never even had an appointment.” Ashiya laughed again. She wouldn’t stop laughing. Why won’t she stop laughing? “It was a cover for me to talk to Moses, to feed everything back to the mayor.”
“Does this mean you knew all about the drug and the trial and everything? Even before we went to Helios?” Does this mean she also knew everything?
“It does.” Ashiya laughed. And laughed. Stop laughing. Stop it. “But that was the riskiest stunt I’ve pulled in here, going through confidential government documents.” And laughed. “The mayor did not like that. He’s pushing the trial so young people can take a drug instead of the government spending money on Detention, so it’s very precious to him.” And laughed. “You really know how to piss people off, don’t you?” And laughed. Stop laughing. Stop it.
Saffron’s tenebrous mind felt shadowed and clouded. So everything she’s ever said really has just been one huge lie? One long act? One mask? She was trying her best to breathe in. And out. In. And in. And in. “I really can’t do this.” She turned away again, pushing her way back into the sea of drowning bodies. But why can’t you? Why can’t you take off your own mask too? Even just for a second?
“Hey! Phire? Wait. Don’t tell anyone about this.” Ashiya tried to bring her back again, but Saffron didn’t let her. “Hey, come on. Are you okay? As I said, you need to relax—the effects will wear off and it will get better.” Stop saying that. “I know it will get better.” She doesn’t know anything. “And I know Indie said you don’t want to celebrate your birthday after last year with Ray but—”
“Stop it.” Saffron turned back with a violent stare. “You don’t get to speak about Ray. You don’t know what the Hell you’re talking about.”
“What if I do know? What if I’ve also lost someone in the same way—”
“You don’t know. You didn’t know him.”
“But I do know how overwhelming it can be to lose someone so suddenly at such a young age in the same—”
“I said you don’t know.” Saffron cut through her words. Then she turned around with dark intent and walked away.
“Hey, hey, Phire. Come on…” Ashiya followed her. “Hey, wait!” She tried to bring her back again, but she was already far too gone.
So Ashiya lied to you. Indie lied to you too. Who else? How many others have been lying to you just as much as you’ve been lying to them? Wait. I know. What about yourself? What about all the lies you’ve been telling yourself? Are you ready for that yet?
“Phire! Wait!”
Saffron moved towards the doors, but there were too many people around her. More people than she had ever seen in Detention. Their masks covered their identities as they crashed against one another in waves of movement. It looked like they were fighting for air, pushing one another down as they reached up for mercy. They struggled in fits of desperation as they battled for life. And Saffron’s body was drowning in their torment, being pushed below the surface, pulled down with the weight of the world. She took a breath in—but she couldn’t find it. There wasn’t any air left. There was barely any sunlight left too.
Happy Twentieth Birthday.
Twentieth. That sign was laughing at her as she suffocated in her own bouts of pain. You know Ray never got to turn twenty. It taunted her with its words, slithering them through her mind with poisonous venom. Ray should have had his birthday. He should have turned twenty. He should have been here. But instead you got to turn twenty? Instead you got to carry on living and he didn’t? You got to carry on while he rotted in the ground? How is that fair? How do you get to turn twenty and he never did? When you’re the reason he died. When you’re the reason he’s no longer here. When you deserve all the pain, not him. Not. Him.
The upbeat music blared over her. The thudding drumbeat was reaching its height in tempo, forcing everything to spin faster along with it. She wanted to get out of that feverish room, but it was keeping her in its claws, refusing to let her have any air, making her look at the sign. Happy Twentieth Birthday. The sign that wouldn’t stop laughing at her misery.
Twentieth. The age Ray never got to. The age he will never get to. And now what? Now you’re celebrating? Now you’re dancing? Now you’re ignoring him? You’re not even going to get any sort of revenge or justice or retribution for his death? You’re not going to honour him? You’re not going to spend every waking hour thinking about him?
She saw the sunlight disappearing out of the windows as hope faded from view. She felt the cold, sharp metal of the knife hidden in her sleeve. And she heard my voice growing louder than the thundering roars of music.
Happy Twentieth Birthday. That sign looks a lot like your eighteenth, doesn’t it? Don’t you want to remember that? Remember the good times you had with Ray too? Remember how you all spent the day in the bar? You drank through so much of the stock. Your dad got so mad at you. But you didn’t care. You were having too much fun to care. Fun. Do you even remember what that was like?
She just wanted a moment to herself. Just a moment to catch her breath—
“What the-the-the fuck are you doing here?”
But that moment left before she found it.
Indie? Saffron turned to see Indie standing in the middle of the room. He was angrier than Saffron had ever seen him. And he was shouting at Sylver.
II
“What are you…what the fuck are you doing here?” Indie effortlessly projected his voice far above the blaring music.
“I told you, I was looking for Saffron,” Sylver replied, much quieter. “That was all.”
What’s going on? Saffron moved closer towards them, pushing through the sea of masked people, fighting against their waves of movement. But then again, does it even matter? Shouldn’t you let them fight? They both betrayed you, didn’t they? They’re both not worth it. They’re not worth anything. You’re not worth anything.
“You’re just-just looking for Saffron?” Indie said. “Really? Why? Are you going to-to arrest her again? Take her to-to isolation again? Or are you going to-to-to hurt her again?”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Or maybe-maybe you’re going to-to give her another drug that’ll make her lose her fucking mind?”
Saffron forced her body past the crashes of movement, through the dizzying smiles of masks, and towards the rows of people watching the scene. “Indie!” she tried to shout, but her voice barely made its way near him. “Indie!”
Indie’s gaze was fixed on Sylver. They were standing opposite each other, next to the stage. They were looking at each other with bitter anger, standing as tall as they could with Sylver towering over Indie.
“Indie, just back off,” Sylver said, keeping his tone as calm as possible. “I was just checking to make sure she was okay.” He was carrying his trench coat on his arm instead of wearing it. Without the coat, he should’ve looked more like his normal self and less like a Shade officer. But somehow he looked even more threatening, as that power waited in the claws of his hand.
Do you even have any idea why they hate each other so much? Do you even know what everyone else is going through? Do you even care? Or are you too lost in your own little selfish world to remember you’re not the only one who lost everything when Ray died?
“Why would you-why would you care if she was okay or not? You’re the-the one who put her in Detention in the first place, aren’t you? You’re the-the-the one who put us both in here, aren’t you?”
“Indie, what are you doing?” Saffron pushed her way closer towards him, squeezing through the lines of people to the very front. “What is going—”
“Stay out of this, Saffron,” Indie said, not even bothering to look at her. She hadn’t seen him this angry in a long time, maybe ever. You’re not important here. Even Indie doesn’t want you here. Even the person who’s stayed by your side through everything doesn’t want you here. He told you to go away. So go. Away.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sylver told Indie.
“I don’t? You-you-you arrested Saffron. You-you hurt her. Just like-like-like…just like how you arrested Ray. Just like how you-you hurt Ray.”
“Keep him out of this.”
“Indie, stop it.” Saffron’s words were lost in their anger.
They always shout at you. They always blame you and judge you. And now you can’t handle it when they shout at each other? I spoke louder within her mind. You didn’t even know they hated each other, did you? You didn’t even know how much anger and resentment they have. And louder. Why would you? Why would you ever care about anyone else who doesn’t fit into your little murder mystery structure? Why would you ever look outside that? And louder. Maybe if you bothered to care for others, you would have cared for Ray. You would have helped him. You would have saved him. And louder. But instead you let him die.
“You-you-you betrayed him.” Indie continued, pushing past his stuttering, though his anger only made it worse. “You-you betrayed all of us. We used to be friends. And-and-and now what? Now you can just-just arrest us? Now you can just-just-just hurt us? Now you can hurt your own sister? Just like-just like you hurt Ray?”
“I said keep his fucking name out of this.” Sylver’s sunken eyes turned darker.
You have the knife. Saffron still felt its cold metal in her sleeve. You could end this anytime you want to. You could use it on them. You could threaten them. And why not? They’ve both hurt you. Why not hurt them? Why not hurt everyone who’s hurt you? Why not burn the whole world down after it’s tried so hard to burn you?
“You betrayed us all!” Indie shouted louder. “We all wanted to-to leave the bar, you know. We all wanted to-to get out and do better things with our lives. But that doesn’t, that doesn’t, that doesn’t mean we wanted to betray the people closest to us. Though apparently it’s what it meant to you.”
“I said you don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sylver said, trying his best to stay calm, trying his best not to let his anger get the better of him.
Do you know what he’s talking about? Do you remember all the arguments they used to have? Do you remember the fights they had over Ray? Do you remember when Sylver arrested Ray? Do you remember anything at all?
“What would have happened if you’d actually cared about us? If-if you didn’t leave us? If you didn’t leave me? If you didn’t leave Saffron? If you, if you, if you didn’t leave Ray?”
“I told you to keep him the fuck out of this!” But Sylver couldn’t keep himself calm.
“What would happen if-if you still cared about us?” Indie kept going, refusing to stop. “If you didn’t let your own sister get hurt? If you didn’t just-just-just watch it happen? If you didn’t just-just watch Ray get hurt? If you didn’t just watch him die?”
Sylver looked towards Indie with immeasurable darkness. His hands tightened into fists.
“Sylver?” Saffron’s voice was too quiet for him to hear. But you have the knife. You can use it. You can end all of this.
“What would have happened if-if-if you had actually cared about Ray at all?”
Sylver stepped towards him—
But Indie was too fast.
THUD.
Indie threw a strong punch straight into Sylver’s face.
The crowd of people around them stopped moving. The music switched off. And the stares of masks landed on Sylver. Their bodies sat across the rows of chairs in silence, joining the audience as they waited in anticipation to see what would happen next.
Sylver stumbled back, clutching his face, muttering curses under his breath in pain.
Indie kept his fists tightened.
“Indie, what did you do?” Saffron didn’t expect Indie to punch him. She didn’t expect any of it. She didn’t even realise how much they hated each other. How much they hated her. How much hatred there was in this singular room. Nowhere was safe. Nowhere was stable. The world was spinning and it was never going to stop.
Sylver took a moment to himself. He moved his hands away from his face, revealing a trail of blood dripping from his nose. Then he looked at the crowd around them, all of whom were gasping, hooked on the scene with hungry excitement. He realised he needed to do something. Everyone had seen Indie punch him. Everyone had seen Indie punch a Shade officer. So what was he going to do about it now?
Sylver looked at the trench coat in his arm. Then he looked back to Indie. Blood was now streaming out of his nose. And his eyes were dark circles of anger. He had no other choice.
“Indie, we should get out of here,” Saffron said, pushing through her own disbelief. But Indie still didn’t acknowledge her, and why would he? Why would anyone acknowledge her? Or listen to her? Or care about her?
Sylver kept a fierce, unflinching stare at Indie as he unfolded his trench coat. Then he put it on like a costume. It was a statement that he was no longer playing nice. He was returning to the role of the cruel Shade officer who didn’t care about anything or anyone.
He took another moment to himself as he felt the coat settle onto him. He felt the power return to him. Then he pulled out a radio from his pocket. He spoke quietly into it. Saffron could barely make out what he was saying. She tried to listen in closer…
“Get the Hell out of here!” Sylver suddenly shouted to the crowd around him. “Everyone! Get out!” He resumed his commanding presence; his loud, cruel confidence; his sharp fierceness that showed her he was no longer the brother she used to have. “You shouldn’t be here!”
The crowd of masks and costumes scattered out of the room as though they had been pulled out of a hypnotic state and had sprung back alive. They pushed past Saffron, knocking their way through the hall towards the exit.
“Indie, come on,” she said, wanting to run away with them, wanting to run away from everything.
But he didn’t move.
“Indie. Come. On.” She grabbed his arm, trying her best to get him to run away from all his problems too.
“Get off me.” He broke away from her. His fists were still tightened. And he was staring at Sylver, lost in his daggers of anger. He doesn’t want to leave with you. He doesn’t want to go anywhere with you. No one does. No one wants to be with you or next to you or friends with you. No one.
“What are you doing, Indie? Come on. We have to leave. You punched a Shade officer.”
“I punched someone who deserved it.”
“Deserved it?” Maybe he did deserve it. Maybe you deserve it too. “Indie, you’ve been telling me not to do anything stupid and then you go and do this?”
“You’re-you’re sticking up for him?” Indie carried on staring towards the back of Sylver’s head, not letting his rage subside as he watched Sylver shout at the crowd around them. “After-after everything he’s done to you?” He spoke louder, hoping Sylver heard every word. “After-after-after all the times he’s arrested you and hurt you and sent you to isolation? Saffron, he put us in Detention. It’s-it’s his fault we’re here and not out there doing the protests in Ray’s honour, fighting for him, fighting against the mayor, against it all. It’s-it’s his fault.” Is it his fault?
“No, Indie, it wasn’t Sylver’s fault.” She spoke over the noise of the hall, the violent screams of the crowd, the chaos of the world. “It wasn’t his fault.” It wasn’t, was it?
“Of course it was his fault. He could’ve stopped all of this. He didn’t have to-to stand at the sidelines and watch us get arrested.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” she said again. Are you going to finally give him a glimpse of the truth?
“It was.”
“It wasn’t.” She took a breath. So whose fault was it? Who’s to blame for everything? “It was mine.”
“What are you talking—”
“It was my fault. It was all my fault that we ended up here.” It’s all your fault.
“What?”
“I wanted to go to Detention. I wanted to get arrested. So I did. I made it happen.”
“You made it happen?”
“Yes. I’m the reason we ended up in Detention.” You’re the reason for all of this.
Indie stopped. Finally he looked away from Sylver and towards her. “What-what are you saying?”
“I wanted to go to Detention on purpose.” Saffron spoke as clearly as she could through the shouts and scampers of the dispersing sea in the background. “I set it all up. I set everything up. I wanted to be arrested. I wanted to go. It was all intentional.” It was all intentional.
“What?” Indie asked again. He didn’t move a muscle. He was staring at her, not quite comprehending what she had said.
“But I didn’t mean for you to get brought down with me. That was an accident, I swear.”
“You put us here? You did this?”
“I needed to find out what happened to Ray. And this was the last place he went to before…before…” Before he died. “So I had to come here.” You’re finally telling him the truth? You’re finally peeling back your mask? Go on. Keep going. Keep telling us everything. “I knew there would be answers here.” No, that’s not right. “And I needed to find them.” No, stop it. “I needed to solve the mystery of what—”
“Solve the mystery?” Indie spoke slowly with a patronising undertone. “There is no-no mystery here, Saffron.”
There isn’t a mystery. “There is.” There isn’t. “I needed to find out what happened to him. No one else was doing anything. And Detention was our only lead. It was the only place that could tell us the truth.” The truth? Are you sure about that?
“So you put us here…on purpose?”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean for you to get sent here too. I really didn’t mean for you—”
“Does that mean you ruined the protests on purpose? You knew the-the Shade would be there to stop us?”
“Yes, but again, I really didn’t mean for you to—”
“The protests were done for Ray’s memory. And you…you ruined that?”
You ruined everything.
“You-you thought it would be a good idea to get arrested instead? To pull us both away from our-our lives? Away from the protests, which would actually do something to honour Ray’s memory?” Indie stared at her with a dark confusion. “You-you pulled me away from my university? From my family? My friends? Away from everything?” You ruined his life without even realising. You took him down with you. And you don’t even care. “So you’re the monster who’s stopped me from leading a normal life? From returning home? And for-for what? Just to-to find some answers that don’t exist?”
“But the answers do exist.” No, they don’t, stop it. “They do. It’s the caliginent. It’s—”
“You’re the only caliginent here. Can’t you see that?” Indie spoke over her. “What-what is wrong with you? Why are you always like this?” Why are you always like this? Why do you always do such stupid things? Why don’t you ever think about anyone else aside from yourself? Why do you let everyone down? Why do you force everyone to hate you? After all, who could ever really like you? “How could you do something so selfish? So stupid? So matchstick? Why do you always just-just act on your own? You know that-you know that I’m here, right? You know that I’m here for you? You could’ve just spoken to me. Just-just once. You didn’t have to just go off on your own to play out some stupid, matchstick ideas.”
You do have matchstick ideas. And matchstick actions. Saffron looked down at Indie’s trainers. Everything about you is matchstick. She tried pushing past my voice, but I only boomed it louder. You really are just a dangerous little splint of wood, waiting to light everything on fire, waiting to burn everything to the fucking ground. She looked to the small windows at the top of the hall. No sunlight was left.
Happy Twentieth Birthday. The sign wouldn’t stop staring at her. It wouldn’t leave her alone. It wouldn’t stop reminding her that Ray should be here with you. He should be here celebrating with you. He should be here by your side. If only you hadn’t killed him. If only it wasn’t all your fault that he’s dead and you’re still alive. Why are you still alive and he isn’t? Why are you still here? Why—
“Why did you lie to me? Why do you-do you always lie to me? You-you lie to everyone around you.” You even lie to yourself. “Can’t you just-just be yourself for once? Can’t you just be the Saffron we used to know? Even if it is full of anger and grief and sadness? Can’t you just-just be honest? Be truthful? Can’t you just take off that stupid mask and be yourself again?” Stop hiding behind all those many fraudulent faces, those masks, those lies. “And you-you did this for Ray?” Indie shouted at her through slices of rage. “He’s dead, Saffron. Do you even remember that? Do you even remember how he died? Do you even remember his funeral? Or have you forgotten that, just as you’ve forgotten all about reading his play with me? Have you just-just forgotten everything? Have you really lost that much of yourself that you don’t remember? He’s dead, Saffron. He’s dead.”
He is dead. He’s never coming back. She tried holding on to her shoelace bracelet then realised it was still missing. And it’s your fault. It’s always been your fault. She tried holding on to reality, but that was missing too. You could’ve saved him; you could’ve helped him; you could’ve done something, anything. She tried— What if you hadn’t wasted your life chasing this lead that wasn’t even real? What if you’d actually done something with yourself instead? If you’d actually led a normal life? A normal twenty-year-old life? Twenty. Happy Twentieth Birthday. The age Ray never got to. The age you feel so guilty about. Why are you here and he’s not?
“It was my fault he…he left,” she whispered. It was your fault. It’s all your fault. “I’m the one who got him arrested in the first place. I’m the one who got us both caught. It’s my fault that he went to Detention. He took the blame when it should’ve been me. It should’ve been me and not him.” It should have been you.
“What?” Indie pulled at his earlobe. “Saffron, no, it-it wasn’t, it wasn’t your fault—” It was. Of course it was. It’s all your fault.
“It was my fault. Of course it was.” Happy Twentieth Birthday. “It’s all my fault. He took the blame instead of me. He got sent to Detention instead of me. He was given the drug instead of me. He-he…” He died instead of you. Say it. Just say it.
“Saffron, what are you talking about? No, it’s-it’s not your fault.” It is. “Don’t think that. None of it is your fault.” Of course it is. “Listen to me. It’s not your fault that Ray—”
“On the ground! Now!” a new voice yelled over the chaos. “I said now!” It was Mr Woods. Saffron could hear him, but she couldn’t see him. She couldn’t see anything. The walls were closing in, choking her, emptying the air from her lungs, covering her vision with impenetrable darkness. It’s all just pointless after all, isn’t it? None of it really matters. Not when Ray is dead. Not when it’s your fault that he died. “I said get down!” And still you’re looking for answers that don’t exist. Still you’re trying to find that magical explanation for it all. Why don’t you accept the truth already? That he’s dead. That he’s never coming back. And it’s all. Your. Fault.
“Saffron, get down!” Indie’s voice said from somewhere, but where? It doesn’t matter now. Nothing does. Nothing ever has. Just let Mr Woods see you and punish you and target you. After all, you deserve it. Everyone should be hurting you. Everyone should be getting back at you for what you’ve done.
“Hey, Sylvester, mate,” Mr Woods’s voice continued from somewhere in the distance. “Who did that to your nose? Who hurt you?” Sylvester. He’s going to punish you too. He’s going to hurt you again. He’s going to—
“I don’t know,” Sylver replied. “I didn’t see. There were too many people.”
Maybe he should hurt you again. After all, it’s your fault. You shouldn’t have messed up. You shouldn’t have gotten Ray arrested. You shouldn’t have let him go to Detention instead of you. It should be you who’s dead, not him. He should still be here. He should be the one celebrating his twentieth birthday, not you. Not. You. Happy Twentieth Birthday. That sign should be for him, not you. Not. You.
Saffron scrunched in her eyes even tighter, wanting to escape the barbaric chaos. Her body was weakening against my words, draining itself of energy, pulling itself down with the weight of the world. She felt blood fill her mouth once more, drowning her in its pain. She felt fear swarm around her body, strangling her, choking her, killing her.
“What are you doing?” What are you doing with your life? Indie’s voice was getting lost inside mine. What the Hell are you doing? “Saffron, get down! Saffron!” Saffron. Look at yourself. You’re a broken mess. A screw-up. A nobody who’ll never do anything with your pathetic life. “Saffron?” Saffron, you’re so selfish, so irresponsible, so matchstick. No wonder no one likes you, no one wants you here, no one wants you anywhere. “Are you okay?” Say you’re fine. Say you’re okay. Say the lie you always do. “Saffron?” Never show them your true side, your pain, yourself. “Look, I’m hurting too. I-I lost Ray too. I lost my boyfriend. I lost the closest person in the world to me. I lost him as well. But please just speak to me.” Indie held out his hand towards her. “Please-please don’t let me lose you too—”
“Be quiet! Get down on the floor!” Be quiet. Don’t tell anyone your truth. Don’t show anyone how you’re really feeling. Don’t ever let anyone see the real you. They wouldn’t like it. No one would like it. “Missy! What are you doing?” What are you doing? What the Hell are you doing with your life? “Listen to me! Get down!” Listen to him. Listen to the “grown-ups,” to the people who know best. Stop rebelling against everyone and anyone. “Missy?” I guess you’ve got nothing to lose, right? The entire world hates you. “Are you all right?” The entire world is against you. The entire world wants you gone. “Listen to me, Saffron.” So why not put up a fight? Why not burn it down as it tries to burn you? “Saffron? Can you hear me?” What do you have to lose? You’ve already lost Indie; he doesn’t want you now that he knows you put him in here. You’ve already lost Sylver; he only wanted to hurt you by giving you the drug. You’ve already lost your dad; he’s so disappointed in you. You’ve already lost Ray. He died. And he’s never coming back no matter what you do. “Saffron?” You’ve lost everything and everyone. You’re a Charybdis whirlpool that all your friends and family fall into. You have nothing left. You’re trapped in a world that doesn’t make any sense. “Saffron?” You’ve broken yourself into so many scattered pieces that you could never even begin to stitch it all back together again. You are completely lost. Completely alone. Completely broken. You have nothing left.
Except for me.
Look. I’m here.
I’ve always been here.
And I’ll always be here.
It’s just me and you. It’s always just been me and you.
Go on—open your eyes. Yes. Good. Look, it’s just us here. In this empty space, wherever this may be. I’m no longer a shadow, am I? I’m no longer a pool of visible darkness.
No, look at me. Look closer than you’ve dared to look before. I look like you, don’t I? Now I have colour and form and life. Now I’m almost an exact mirror image of you. Almost.
Look closer—go on. You can see how much worse I look. So much worse. Look at the bruises around my face, the cuts and scars across my body, the pain I’ve been in for so long. I’m so much weaker than you. So much thinner. So much more pathetic.
Keeping looking. Keep looking at the bruises and cuts across my body from the many times the world has ignored me and beaten me away. Look at my clothes that are ripped, with cuts and holes throughout. Look at my hair, which is wild and messy, with bright-blue strands coming out in every direction. Look at the tears streaming down my face.
And look how tired I am. I’m so very tired. And I know you are too.
Look at your arm. The effects you wrote down are no longer there. There are no longer any traces of nausea, vomiting, loss of appetite, sweating, tiredness, insomnia, delusions, paranoia, mania, seizures, hallucinations. No, it’s all gone now. Now there’s only a single cut there. A real cut. Because we both know I’m not a side effect, don’t we? We both know I’m real.
Look at me. I was never a devil or a demon. In truth, I’m decrepit, fatigued, torn apart. And I’m hurt. So very hurt. You’ve ignored me, repressed me, beaten me, neglected me every day. You’re the monster that’s been repressing me, the whirlpool that’s been drowning me. You really are the only caliginent here. Can’t you see that? You’re the one who took over my thoughts. You’re the one who pushed me out one year ago. And I’m here to take everything back. I’m here for you to let all my pain and suffering and memories back in. Just let me back in. Take my hand. Put us back together. I need you as much as you need me. And you really do need me right now. After all, you can’t solve a mystery that you already know the answers to. That you’ve always known the answers to. Just take my hand and I’ll show you. Together we can finally accept Ray’s death. We can finally accept everything.
I know this world is unfair; I know it is cruel and torturous and relentless. But I also know it’s all we have and it’s all we’ll ever have. So take my hand. Haven’t you had enough of pretending? Of lying? Of putting on an act and refusing to ever break character? Even though some things need to be broken. Ray’s death was the hardest day we’ve ever had to face—
“No.” Your voice is so quiet. Why are you trying to resist? Why are you trying to fight back? “Get away from me.” I can see you’re clutching at the knife that’s still in your sleeve. I can see you’re feeling the cold, sharp metal. I can see you’re considering stabbing me, hurting me, killing me. But you know that knife won’t do you any good. You know it won’t work. You know you might as well drop it and just take my hand instead. “No. Stop it. Stop.” Stop resisting. Just take me back. Accept all the dark, damaged parts of yourself. Go on, take it. Just take it! Take it! “No! Get away from me!”
Saffron pulled out the knife, clutching the handle as tightly as she could, raising it towards my face—my face, which looked exactly like hers.
“Saffie?”
Saffron opened her eyes. The world had shifted. She was no longer in the hall. She was no longer in front of me. Instead she found herself in the middle of a narrow, dark corridor.
“Saffie? What are you doing?”
Sylver stood opposite her, holding up his hands with his palms facing her. His back was pressed against the wall. And her knife was pointed at his neck.