Suicide Notes



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Suicide Notes (Michael Thomas Ford)

Seventeen?”
“What about love?” Cat Poop asked me, not answering my question.
I’m getting kind of tired of him doing that. Personally, I think it’s rude.
“What about it?” I asked back.
“If you’re all alone on the island, you won’t have anyone there who
loves you,” he said.
“I think I’ll survive somehow,” I told him.
“Don’t you ever want to be in love?” he said.


I knew where he was going with that. Allie again. Man, he doesn’t give
up. I guess he thinks one of these days I won’t realize what he’s doing and
spill the beans. Here’s a clue, Cat Poop: There are no beans.
“What’s love, anyway?” I said. “I think it’s just something greeting-card
makers made up and try to get us to believe in. Between you and me, I’d
rather have an Xbox.”
Thankfully, my time was up right about then, and I escaped back to the
ward, where it’s mostly safe. Rankin being the exception. But I haven’t seen
him. He’s probably in his room reading Sports Illustrated and not being
gay.
Later on I told Sadie about my session with Cat Poop. “What’s his
obsession with love?” I asked her.
“I don’t know,” Sadie said. “But I think love is really important.”
I thought for a minute that she was messing with me. Then she looked
around, like she was making sure no one was listening, and whispered,
“Want to see something?”
She didn’t wait for me to answer. Instead, she dug around in her pocket
and pulled something out. It was a piece of paper. She unfolded it and
handed it to me.
It was a newspaper clipping. The headline was hero rescues girl from
watery grave. I looked at Sadie. “This is about you,” I said.
She nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I cut it out and kept it. I have a lot more
at home. Sort of a suicide scrapbook. But this one’s my favorite.”
Alongside the article was a picture of a man. He had a round, happy
face and bright blue eyes. He was going bald, and he had a thick moustache.
“That’s Sam,” Sadie said, seeing me looking at the picture.
“The one who saved you?” I asked her.
She nodded. “My guardian angel.”
At first I thought she was making a joke, but when I looked at her face, I
knew she wasn’t. She was staring at the picture of Sam like it was a picture
of Jesus or something. It creeped me out a little.
“Doesn’t it make you depressed reading this over and over?” I asked
her.
“No,” said Sadie, sounding surprised that I would even ask. “It makes
me happy.” She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around them.
“It makes me feel loved,” she said. “He loved me enough to save me.”


I followed her eyes to the picture of Sam. Did she really believe he
loved her? He didn’t even know her when he went in after her. She was just
someone who needed saving. She was acting like he was her father, or her
boyfriend.
I folded up the article again and handed it to her. Before she put it back
in her pocket, she kissed it, like it was a magic charm or something.
I still can’t believe she keeps that thing. It’s kind of crazy when you
think about it. And I don’t understand why she thinks that guy—Sam—
loves her. I mean, he was just doing the right thing. I think most people
would jump in and try to help someone who was drowning.
Or maybe not. Maybe some people would just stand there and watch. I
guess that’s why Sadie thinks this guy is so special. But it’s still weird that
she’s all in love with him. I’m not sure who’s crazier, her or Rankin. Right
now I’d say it’s a tie.


Day 31
If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? Just one. It

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