Authors: Cathy MacPhail
Erin really would pee her pants then.
And that was what brought a smile to my lips. A smile. When was the last time I had smiled? Here I was in the depths of despair, and I was smiling. It was as if the old me was fighting to get through. The old Hannah who smiled all the time, who never let anything get her down.
I tried to think straight. What was it that was lifting
my spirits from somewhere deep inside me? As if a trapped animal was struggling to get out.
The old me. A faint voice was calling to me.
Don’t do it. I want to live.
I stared at myself in the mirror. What a mess I had become. Hardly bothering to fix my hair, dark circles under my eyes, my face drawn and streaked with tears.
And why?
Because my friends had deserted me. They had turned on me. I had sworn to them that I wasn’t the one who had told everyone Erin’s secret, and they hadn’t believed me. I had done everything to get them back. I had humiliated myself in front of the whole school, and it still wasn’t enough. They wouldn’t have me.
The voice inside me was getting louder, and I listened.
I had come to this because there was nowhere else for me to go. No other road for me to take. I was frightened and alone.
Yet something inside wanted them to know what they’d done to me. And pay for it.
What do you do if you’re chased up a one-way street and find yourself trapped? When there’s nowhere else for you to go and they’re all after you?
Do you cower in a corner and plead for mercy?
No.
You turn and fight.
The voice inside me grew louder still.
It was the thought of revenge that had made me smile. But I had to be here to see that revenge, not dead and buried under the ground, food for worms.
Getting my own back on every last one of them. How great would that be?
Making them pay for what they had done to me.
I was trembling. But it wasn’t fear or despair any more. It was determination. They had got me to this point. The point where I was ready to take those pills and end it all.
I suddenly realised that I would have no revenge that way. They would simply say I was weak, like my mother. I pictured those headlines again. Only this time they read.
HANNAH DRISCOLL, A VICTIM OF SUICIDE
And that would be how I would be remembered – a victim.
Not good enough, not for Hannah Driscoll.
I had let a bunch of so-called friends drag me down so low that I had no pride.
The real me had been buried under all that shame. Now she was clawing her way back. She was telling me I couldn’t let them win. Her voice was bellowing in my ear now.
I could either go back to school tomorrow, cowering like a wimp, or I could stride in, with my head held high.
What was it I had always had, and they loved me for it?
Attitude.
And suddenly, it was like that magical moment when a dolphin breaks the surface of the ocean and leaps into the air. I felt my attitude leap to the surface, just like that.
I felt it fill my body like blood pumping through my veins. Bringing with it new life. That’s exactly how I felt. I was beginning a new life. It was the most wonderful moment I could remember.
The old me was back. She settled into my skin and filled me, and I knew nothing would make me lose her again. Mrs Tasker would kill me for all these mixed metaphors! But that was how I felt.
The old me was my real friend. No one else. And she hadn’t deserted me. I had been the one who had deserted her.
I closed the door of the bathroom cabinet and
splashed my face. Then I stood up straight and stared at the new me. Did my eyes look brighter? I was sure they did. I had made my choice. I was going to school with my head held high.
Then I remembered Wizzie and her gang. They had threatened to get me. I would be easy meat. I was alone, didn’t belong any more.
Wizzie and the Hell Cats were in for a shock too. They had threatened to get me?
Well, I was going to get them first.
My only fear was that the feeling would wear off during the night. It didn’t. I woke up next morning like a tiger coming to life. To think I had even considered not waking up at all on this beautiful morning.
Even my mother noticed the difference in me. She’s usually so wrapped up in herself she doesn’t notice anything. I walked into the kitchen as she was filling the washing machine. ‘Are you OK? Your cheeks are really flushed.’
‘I feel brilliant,’ I said, and that surprised her.
Her cheeks were red too. ‘About yesterday, Hannah, me coming up to the school …’ Was that only yesterday? It had seemed so important yesterday. Today, it didn’t matter at all. She tried to apologise. ‘Maybe I did the wrong thing coming to the school. I always do the wrong thing. But I’m a woman on my own, I haven’t got anybody to support me.’
If I kept on listening to this I was afraid she’d drag me down again. So I stopped her in mid-flow. ‘It’s OK, Mum. Doesn’t matter. Got to go.’
She dragged her hair back with her fingers. ‘This early?’
‘It’s a nice morning for a walk,’ I said.
She followed me to the door. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? You seem different today.’
Different wasn’t the word. I was back. For weeks I had tried to sneak in the school gates, hoping no one would notice me. Today I wanted them to see me. I wanted them all to see me. It was a cold crisp morning and the sun shone on the snow-tipped purple hills. Everything looked clearer and brighter today.
Just as I arrived at the school gates, the bus pulled up beside me and Erin jumped off with Heather at her heels.
‘Oh, look who’s here, Heather,’ she sneered. ‘The wimp.’
I ignored her. I couldn’t argue with that. I had been a wimp. But no more. She strode ahead of me. Why had I never noticed before what fat ankles Erin had? I had always thought she was so perfect. And Heather, always hanging on her every word as if she didn’t have a mind
of her own. Had I been like that too?
Erin stopped in front of me, barring my way. She swivelled round to face me. ‘What time’s your mum coming today … or is she here already? Maybe you’ve packed her in your rucksack.’
I didn’t answer at first. I just looked at Erin. I stared and I stared. It was Erin who blinked first. ‘Buzz off,’ I said, and I glanced at Heather. ‘And take your monkey with you.’
Heather gasped. ‘Who are you calling a monkey?’
‘I’ll give you a mirror. You can figure it out for yourself.’
‘We’ll make you sorry you said that.’ Erin tried to sound threatening, and do you know what? It didn’t work any more. I just smiled.
‘In your dreams,’ I said.
I wasn’t interested in them. I was just pleased they looked so baffled by my attitude. The one I was really interested in was swaggering up towards the school.
Wizzie.
Her red-streaked hair was spiked and fierce-looking and she was chewing gum. She was always chewing gum. Grace, running to catch up with her, looked even more like a horse. Chomping away at her gum too, all
she needed was a nosebag and the picture would be complete. They linked arms. Grace, a head taller than Wizzie, looked as if she was holding her up.
I turned away from Erin as if she wasn’t there. That must have been so annoying for her. I headed straight for Wizzie. Stopped right in front of her.
Wizzie did her ‘stands back in amazement’ routine, holding up her hands, mock surprise on her face. ‘What have we got here, Grace?’
‘She’s come to beg for mercy probably,’ Grace said, smug.
I didn’t waste time answering that. ‘You said you’d get me.’ I poked Wizzie in the chest and she staggered back a few steps. ‘Fine with me. But I’ll pick the time and place. Today. After school. Up behind the football pitch, far away from the school so the teachers won’t find out.’ I paused. ‘Square go.’ I said that because I didn’t want any knives involved, and if Wizzie agreed to a square go now, with half the school listening, she couldn’t go back on it. ‘You do know what a square go is, don’t you, Wizzie? One at a time. Fair fight. OK?’
Then I swung past her and walked through the school gates.
* * *
By lunchtime news of the fight was all around the school. Moira tried her best to make me change my mind. ‘You haven’t a chance, Hannah. And you know what Wizzie might do …’ Her voice trailed off. The word ‘knife’ unspoken.
‘It’s just something I’ve got to do, Moira,’ I said.
There was a sudden bellow of laughter behind us. ‘A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do!’ Who else but Zak Riley? ‘You think you’re living in the Wild West, Driscoll. You’ve not gotta do anything. Get real!’
‘I think she’s been really brave, Zak,’ Moira said.
I smiled. ‘Thanks, Moira.’
‘Brave? Are you kiddin’, Moira? I think she’s dead stupid.’
‘It’s better than being dead ugly,’ I snapped back at him.
‘And tonight, you’ll just be dead.’
‘Don’t bet on it.’
‘I’ve never known anybody like you in my life. You like fighting better than boys do.’
‘That’s because I fight better than boys do.’
Zak wasn’t a fighter anyway. He was never in fights. ‘Me and my mates are coming to watch you. It’ll be good for a laugh.’
‘I’ll take you on when I finish with Wizzie.’
Zak laughed and moved off with his mates. ‘I’ll take along a shovel and scrape you up. You’ll be like raspberry jam.’
It was then I remembered again, Wizzie’s knife.
Slash! Slash!
I pictured it in my mind, gleaming in the dying sunlight as it hacked and slashed in front of my face.
It was the only thing that freaked me out. Wizzie’s knife. The rumour was she always had it on her, the scars on her neck and arms evidence of the knife fights she had been in. How bold I had been when I’d had my friends about me. Wizzie’s knife hadn’t bothered me then. But now I was alone, and I thought about the old woman again. She’d been threatened with a knife. So why should Wizzie draw the line at using it on me? Yet the more I thought about it, the more I realised that she wouldn’t risk her reputation by using a knife when I had none.
Square go, we had said, and that’s what it would be: a square go. There were certain rules we all stuck to and that was one of them. If there was going to be a lot of people watching, even more reason for her to fight fair.
The thought of an audience kind of bothered me.
Maybe I shouldn’t have challenged them so publicly. But it was too late now. From now on I would have no regrets about anything. So the whole school were going to be there to watch? Good. They would all be waiting for me to be humiliated. I was determined to put up a good show. I wouldn’t win, I knew that. But no one would ever call me a wimp again.
They were all there, Grace and Lauren and Sonya, and in the middle of them, Wizzie. I’d take her first, I decided, remembering from somewhere that if you cut off the head, the body couldn’t survive. I think I’d heard it in a zombie film, but then, what else were the Hell Cats but a gang of zombies?
Wizzie turned and stared at me as I approached. ‘Oh, here comes Rocky!’ And then with a wild tribal roar that was meant to take me by surprise I suppose, she threw herself at me.
But I wasn’t surprised. I had been prepared for anything, even this. I side-stepped her and she landed with a thud on the ground. There was a cheer from the crowd. Wizzie was on her feet in an instant, her eyes blazing. She lunged at me and I grabbed her hair. It was a great target with those spikes of hers. I pulled her head back and kicked the back of her legs. She was
down again, this time on her back. I was on top of her in a second, straddling her chest, pinning her wrists to the ground. ‘Give up!’ I said.
‘Never,’ she said through gritted teeth. I thought I had her, but with a sudden burst of strength, she arched her back and threw me off her. I tumbled to the ground and only a quick roll to the side stopped her landing on me. Her fist caught the side of my face, and sent my head spinning. I got to my feet quickly and launched myself at her. I wasn’t going to give her a minute.
This time we both tumbled together on the ground. She had me by the hair. I almost wished I’d had the nerve to tug at the earring on her eyebrow, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Instead I punched her on the side of the head so hard her eyes went squinty. She pushed me off her and we both got to our feet. But my punch had knocked Wizzie for six. She was having trouble focussing and took a step back, to let someone else take her place.
That someone was Grace. ‘My turn,’ she said and she squared up to me, stepping in front of Wizzie.
The sweat was pouring off me, but I still wasn’t scared. I was too keyed up to be scared. Grace Morgan was big. As she lumbered towards me I realised just how
big. But she wasn’t fast. I lowered my head and charged at her and sent her reeling to the ground. There was another roar from the crowd. A different kind of roar this time. All of a sudden they were on my side. I could tell. They wanted me to win.
‘Behind you, Hannah!’ Someone yelled it from the crowd. I turned just in time to stop Lauren leaping on my back. I grabbed at her, spun her round and sent her tumbling on top of Grace.
Sonya was waiting for me next. She let out a scream and ran at me. Sonya’s a big girl too. And fat with it. She hit me so hard we both fell back.
I was on the ground and almost waiting for the rest of Wizzie’s gang to jump on me, but they didn’t. That wouldn’t have been a square go and they knew it. Instead it was Sonya who leapt at me again, but I held up my hands and pushed her back.
I was like a wild animal. I was on top of her. She grabbed my ears and rolled me over. I butted her in the face, and that hurt me as much as it hurt her. But at least my nose didn’t bleed. Hers did. I could see anger in her eyes as she tasted her own blood. ‘I’ll kill you for that!’
‘Try it.’
And she almost did. Anger gave her more strength. She was up and leapt at me again. This time I couldn’t dodge her or keep my balance. I began to topple with Sonya on top of me. Her blood dripped on my hair, into my face. She was ready to butt me back as she had me pinned to the ground. I was done for.