“How old is Nathan?” asked the male paramedic, checking his pulse as he did, I told him. The next thing I knew they’d tied him to a stretcher and were putting him in the back of the ambulance.
Dad went with them to the hospital; I stayed at home with mum, who by now was in tears. Mum told me that she had to go to the hospital to be by Nathan’s side. With the state she was in I couldn’t let her drive, so I had to. I was so afraid, not just about Nathan but I’d just only passed my driving test last week.
We managed to get to the hospital in one piece, much to my surprise. Mum rushed to the reception,
“Hello, my son has just been brought in; can you tell me where to go?” asked mum who you could tell was on the verge of tears.
“Can I have your son’s name please?” asked the receptionist on the other side of the counter.
“Nathan Spencer,” She told us where to go. We found dad sitting outside the hospital ward. He didn’t look good, “what have the doctors said, is he going to be alright?” asked mum, looking at dad like a lost puppy.
“The only thing they can tell me yet is that um…….um he’s got a 75% chance of not pulling through,” said dad, talking with a lump in his throat. We waited for what seemed like hours for a doctor or a nurse to tell us what was happening to Nathan. I couldn’t stand the wait any longer and went into the ward where Nathan was being examined by the doctors.
“How is he?” I asked the doctor, who was monitoring Nathan’s progress,
“I think it would be best to call your parents in,” replied the tall, brown haired, middle aged male doctor. “As you already know your son has taken a massive overdose of sleeping pills and paracetamol tablets,”
“Paracetamol I thought he only took sleeping pills?” interrupted mum.
“Yes, but we discovered a packet of empty paracetamal tablets in his pocket. At the moment Nathan is on a life support machine, we’ve attempted letting him breathe on his own, but he has failed to respond. So basically we consider the chances of Nathan regaining consciousness have all but gone.” Mum burst into tears, she couldn’t quite comprehend what the doctor was saying.
“You’ve got to do something; you can’t just let my son die. Why are you giving up all hope? My Nathan, he’s a fighter I know that he’s going to pull through. He wouldn’t do this to me, to us.” Shouted mum, now in uncontrollable tears.
I went to comfort her but she just ran to Nathan’s side. I followed her in; she was sitting on Nathan’s hospital bed talking to him, still crying. “Son, it’s me, mum. The doctors have said that you’re not going to make it, but I know my son, you’ve always been a fighter, right from when you were a little toddler. Why did you do this son why? If there was a problem we could have talked, I know when you’re better and we get you home we can have a talk then.” Whispered mum into Nathan’s ear.
Dad came in and we all had a talk, much as mum hated the idea we thought it was best to turn off the machine.
“Mum are you sure you’re OK?” I asked, mum had calmed down a bit by now, but I could tell that she was grieving inside. Dad called for the doctor and they turned the machine off.
*
It was three days after Nathan had died and I was going through some of his things, you know trying to find answers to why he would take his own life. While I was going through his school things an envelope dropped out of his maths exercise book, on the front it read To Kelly, only open when I’ve died.
At first I didn’t want to open it I was afraid of what it might contain. After about half an hour of staring at the letter I plucked up the courage to open it. It read,
I know you probably hate me for doing what I did, but I felt as if I had no other alternative. Over the past few months I was being abused by this man, I don’t even know his name. At first I didn’t know what to do; I didn’t even know what he was doing to me was wrong. He used to tell me “Don’t worry it will all be over soon,” and cover my face with a blanket.
I couldn’t read on I’d heard enough. I was sick all over the floor, mom must have heard me and she came in.
“Kelly, are you alright?” I couldn’t even speak, I was that disgusted at what I had just read. I pointed to the ground and mom picked up the letter. She started to read it and burst into tears. We both just sat there comforting each other, shocked about what Nathan had to go through.
Mom couldn’t quite comprehend what she had just read and what we could do about it. She rang the police and told them to come round as son as possible. When they came round mom handed over the suicide note. When they started to ask us questions, dad came in; looking concerned he had seen the police car parked outside the house.
“What’s going on, has something happened?” The police explained everything to dad who was as stunned as the rest of us. The police said that they had to call for a team to come in and examine Nathan’s room for evidence.
Nathan hadn’t been buried yet so they examined his body as well, like he was some sought of laboratory rat. After about a week, we had a knock on the door, it was the police. They said that they had found some DNA on Nathan’s body and clothes; they told us that it matched the DNA on a man who lived in the area. They were going to search the man’s house for any other evidence they could find to back up what Nathan had written in his letter.
*
A few weeks had passed and they had arrested a man on suspicion of doing this to Nathan. They eventually convicted the man as they found pictures of Nathan and child pornography on his computer.
Finally after weeks of waiting we could lay Nathan’s body to rest, knowing that the man was locked up in prison. After everybody had left the churchyard, I stayed behind to say goodbye to Nathan.
“You know I’ll always love you, I just hope that you’re looking down on me and saying the same thing. Bye bro.”
