Day 4: I, Dawn

Dedicated to: my lovely mum, Kate

When the lights go off, my head is still pounding. As I wait for the panacea of darkness to do its work, I can feel the blood coursing around my temples. Eventually I drift off, the smell of chicken casserole the last thing I’m aware of.

I don’t know how long I’m asleep for, except that it’s long enough for my headache to subside. Waking, but with my eyes closed, I lie thinking but not thinking, aware but not aware. My conscious is wearily reaching towards something important, while my body tries to drag me back to sleep.

After a while, I realise I left the casserole on. How long has it been in for? I can’t smell burning and I’m glad I brought round casserole, not pie. I sniff, but I can’t smell anything. That’s odd.

I sniff again. At least, I try to sniff but I can’t. I try even harder but now it’s as if I don’t know how. Was there a time when I learnt how to sniff, or have I always been able to? Suddenly sniffing is just a concept, like speaking Swahili or piloting a plane. All I know is it’s theoretically possible.

It’s only when I realise that I can’t open my eyes, or feel the kitchen floor anymore that I understand what’s happened.

I’m dead.

My mind hovers for a moment over the concept of sadness, but it doesn’t land. Anger? No, not angry either. Like smelling, or the hardness of the floor, they’re feelings just out of my reach. Yet it’s as I accept that my sensations are gone forever that I think with utter clarity. I cannot see or hear or touch, but I do have a purpose: Gemma. I have to save Gemma.

But how? I refuse to let my mind race, even though it’s all I have.  The problem is obvious. I can’t move. And I’m guessing I can’t speak. Even if I could, the only person who is presumably still in earshot is Cullan and he is the very last person who I want to hear me. For the first time since I met him, I feel no distaste at the thought of him, let alone hatred. Odd, given that he just killed me with a mallet meant for my daughter, yet all I can do is notice the absence of emotion. Clearly visceral instincts will distract me from my purpose.

Wait… where is Cullan? I concentrate. He’s still in Gemma’s kitchen with my body. I don’t know how I know this, but it doesn’t matter, I know.

I don’t even need to finish my next question before I know the answer. Gemma is not there. She’s not in the house or near the house. Good. Now it gets harder.

Where is she? Nothing.

Who is she with? Don’t know.

Is she alone? No. She’s not alone.

OK, so who is she with then?

I want to be able to screw my eyes up and see her. But I can’t use my eyes anymore, and I will not let myself become frustrated. I try again.

Is she safe? Stupid question. Try another.  

Is she with friends, or a friend? Yes.

I run through names in my mind. James? No. Paul? No. She doesn’t really have male friends anymore. OK, so her girlfriends... She doesn’t have many of those left either. Think, Dawn, think. Who have you seen her with recently? Joanne? No. Raj? No. I haven’t even heard her talk about Raj in ages. Cullan didn’t like her. My mind reaches for more names. Neena? No.

I try harder. I used to know all her friends. Right from the age of 4, when she’d come home from nursery and tell me everything about all of them. There was Storme and Katherine and Billy and Jasmine…

Wait, Jasmine? Something clicks. She’s with Jasmine. This is a surprise. I pause to check. Yes, definitely Jasmine. I didn’t know they were still close. Have I seen them together in group photos recently? Not sure, doesn’t matter. She’s with her now and this is important.

I still don’t know where she is, but I know who she’s with. I’m certain there are other people there, but I can’t find their names. When I was alive, I’d have given anything for even this level of omniscience over my daughter’s life. It’s ironic that what I’ve given for this knowledge has stripped me of my capacity to influence her in any way.

I check what I know again. My body still hasn’t moved. Cullan is still in the house with it. Gemma is still not near the house.  She is with Jasmine. I can’t get anything else. The harder I think about Gemma, the blurrier the edges of her become. I try Cullan. He’s blurry too. Again, I’d have liked this when I was alive, Cullan blurring into insignificance.

I decide not to waste any more time working out where Gemma is, it’s not like I can drive there. I’m getting good at being dead; it’s not the quantity of knowledge that matters, it’s not wasting space with the unimportant. Since I might have an eternity in this afterlife state, I can find out more later when there’s nothing urgent going on.

Having exhausted my other two options, I concentrate on Jasmine. Trying to picture her doesn’t work, but I’m on the right path. What do I know about her, beyond what she looks like? Jasmine, Jasmine… all I can remember is that she’s bossy. It used to annoy me when she and Gemma were little. And wasn’t she the one who took eight attempts to pass her driving test?

What else… They’ve known each other since they were four. She told Gemma off when they were eleven… Gemma had started hanging around with some other girls and doing all of their art projects for them and Jasmine thought they were taking advantage. Eventually the other girls stopped talking to Gemma and she and Jasmine made up. Why is this important?

Because Jasmine cares about Gemma. And she’s forgiving. I compile a list:

-          Bossy

-          Caring

-          Forgiving

-          Crap driver. Wait, no… determined maybe?

She sounds like me. At least, like me when it comes to Gemma. I think harder about her and she comes further into focus.

Something shifts. I know where Jasmine is. At least, I have a sense of her surroundings. There’s a crowd and she knows most of them. Gemma must be there somewhere. I push further… Jasmine likes these people and is enjoying herself. I can almost feel her laughing.

Find Gemma, Jasmine. Find my girl.

She looks around and sees Gemma.

Wait, did I do that? I try something else.

Save Gemma.

Jasmine is trying to remember something… Where did she put her drink?

OK, so that didn’t work. I try again.

Talk to Gemma.

Jasmine pauses, something is wrong but she’s not sure what.

Gemma needs you.

Gemma is alone. Jasmine moves towards her. They haven’t spoken in a while (thought so!) but she cares a lot about her friend. I feel her smile.

‘Are you here by yourself?’ She’s relieved by both the answer and the reason why. I was happy too when they broke up. I like Jasmine after all. They hug.

Hold her tight, Jasmine. I’d never let go.

Gemma is crying. I know this because Jasmine knows this.

Talk to her.

They talk. I can’t hear Gemma’s side but I know Jasmine is upset, although she won’t show it. She’s also shocked. The back of her neck prickles, but she makes herself look steadily at Gemma the whole time. I’m impressed. I never managed to stay so calm and accepting.

I don’t know how long they talk for, but the crowd is still there. How long since I died? It could only be 15 minutes, it could be 2 hours. I check what I know again.

Cullan is still in the house.

My body is still in the house.

Back to Jasmine. There’s something Gemma isn’t saying and she knows it. And I know what it is but I can’t tell Jasmine. I try anyway.

He’s still around.

She talks gently to Gemma.

‘It is definitely over?’

Not for him.

Gemma’s answer doesn’t satisfy her.

He’s worse now. He’s going to kill her. Tell her Gemma.

‘Talk to me Gemma.’

You have to save her. She’s in danger.

I realise Jasmine’s heart is pounding. I might not have adrenaline any more, but she does. I try to dial it back.

You can help. She trusts you.

Jasmine’s known Gemma for a long time. Gemma’s a people pleaser. She hides and minimises things which will make other people unhappy. Jasmine knows this and keeps her own voice even. It’s an effort.

‘You know you can’t upset me right? I love you.’

And Gemma talks more. I don’t know what she says, but I know when she’s said enough, because Jasmine finally understands what she has to do.

‘You’re not going back there by yourself tonight. He might be there again.’

Good girl.

Jasmine calls over Simon, whoever he is. She arranges for him to drive them back to Gemma’s.

‘We’ll go back together and grab some of your bits.’

If Gemma’s trying to stop her, Jasmine is deaf to it. She’s all command and adrenaline as she tells Gemma what’s going to happen.

‘I’ll get my brother to meet us there. It’s gonna be alright.’

I check in on the house. We’re both still there. Is he trying to clear me away? Is he panicking? Eating the casserole? I don’t know. I only know we’re still alone together. Gemma is nearing the house, but with Jasmine.

She mustn’t see me and he mustn’t see her.

‘Si and me and Ali’ll go in. We can lock you in the car.’

They arrive. Jasmine moves towards the house with two other people. Presumably Simon and Ali. Gemma must be in the car, hating every minute of this but obeying instructions. Jasmine and the other two are right outside.

Stick together.

They’re in. Now there’s five people in the house, one dead. Jasmine is upset and furious, but she’s in control and not afraid. As far as she knows she has no reason to be. Even if that creep is here he can’t…

Jasmine freezes. She cannot think. She can only feel, and I feel what she feels – horror, terror shock. They’ve found me. The world spins around her. I’m glad I can’t see what she can.

I’m so sorry Jasmine.

She wants to be sick. I try to bring her back.

Stay in control, you can do this.

Fury, hatred and disgust erupt. I assume she is looking at Cullan. He always had that effect on me.

Get out of there, he doesn’t matter. Just get my daughter away.

She still doesn’t move.

You’ve almost saved her. Get out.

A single word enters her head: protect.

‘Ali, Simon. Out… NOW.’

Cullan moves. They all move. Jasmine knows they have to move fast, back towards Gemma. She knows there’s three of them and one of him. She knows they have to keep going. It’s better not to fight. Her biggest priority is Gemma. Everything is a blur of movement. Only I notice she’s shaking.

As they get further from Cullan, the gap between them and Gemma closes again. And then they’re away.

For the first time since dying I can see a picture – Jasmine dialling her phone, her arm around Gemma in the backseat of a moving car. Then it goes dark and I can’t access anything anymore.  

Now it’s over, I feel a stab of sadness. I have no idea what will happen next. Perhaps that’s because I don’t need to know right now, but it’s an awful realisation. And yet as I’m falling asleep, my last thought is that I saved my girl.

Words: 1993