8.20pm
Everyone in the room looked at the suicide letter on the screen. It had been written by an Australian girl called Samantha Simpson (Sammy), several pictures taken from social networking media sites that Genny had managed to find were also on the screen. In one picture she was cuddling a baby Koala and smiling and in another picture she was sitting on the beach smiling, she looked beautiful and happy. Next to her pictures was a single picture of her lying dead, a picture taken of her as she had been found in Livingston Ward. The contrast was sickening. Before the letter had been found in the pocket of her jeans she had been referred to as Victim 4. This beautiful happy looking young lady was someone’s daughter, someone’s friend, someone’s relative – now, Victim 4.
The Letter
The first time I saw you at Sidney International Airport, you were reading War and Peace by Tolstoy and seemed to be enjoying it. I had read the book the year before and had initially found it hard to get into but I stuck with it and found myself sailing through the 1,440 pages. I don’t remember who spoke first but I do remember smiling at you and you putting the book down and smiling at me. That day seems so long ago now baby and still I think of it often. We were too ships waiting to board two different planes in the night. You were going to Thailand and I was on the last leg of a 360 travel package. I remember during our conversation you asking me why Australians were always leaving their country to go to the UK and suffer in the freezing cold, why they would leave somewhere so warm and beautiful like Australia? And, I remember telling you that it was in our DNA, our Do Not Ask how things were until it was too late and we were there 🙂 in the UK. You laughed at my attempt at a joke. Then you told me about the riddle you heard recently in a pub, someone had heard it from someone else and by the time you heard it, it was sort of like a Chinese whisper-sort-of-joke, it had metamorphosed from its original state. You asked me how a man who was in a room with no windows or doors escaped and I asked how he got in the room if there were no windows and doors and you said that wasn’t the point and you hadn’t heard how the man got in (I loved that about you, you said you didn’t know something if you didn’t, you didn’t pretend). So this man in the room with no doors or window – how did he get out? I said that he got some mate called Arnie, to bulldoze the wall of the room down with a massive bulldozer and he escaped and you looked at me like I was a typical Australian – all brawn, sunshine and wide open spaces. You said that there was no mate with a massive bulldozer but there was a mirror and desk in the room. I said that you weren’t being fair because you didn’t give me that information earlier and now I had to rethink my answer – again that look appeared on your face and I laughed. You smiled at me and waited patiently while I chucked a number of wacky possibilities at you and even though that look lurked in the background you didn’t belittle me. When I eventually gave up you told me the answer – the man looked in the mirror and remembered what he saw, took the saw and cut the table in half, put the two halves together to make a hole and escaped through the hole. You finished telling me this wacky crappy crazy answer that made no sense then you looked at me as if you had just solved a PhD mathematical problem and smiled. I remember asking you what kind of wacky answer that was and you laughed and said the guy telling the joke in the pub had downed more than a few beers. They say you can’t choose who you fall in love with! That’s rubbish. I believe you can choose because I chose to fall in love with you that night and I still love you so much that I can’t stand to live without you.
U Murder U (Suicide)
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