The sunlight through the trees is creating a cycle of warmth and then cold, as I walk
through the forest. Endlessly searching for an end, an end to my ever-racing mind.
My mind is racing from one thought to another, unexplained, over exaggerated
scenarios. Scenarios I can’t help but play over in my mind when reflecting on the last twenty-four hours.
It was a normal Wednesday; I was up and ready to go to teach at High Ridge
College without any setbacks, a positive and good start to the day indeed! No
screaming children demanding different breakfasts or refusing to go to school.
I should have known then really that it was the calm before the storm.
I dropped the kids off at breakfast club without any arguments or fights, kissed them
goodbye, mounted my bike and set off for the ten-minute bike ride to work. It’s a
pleasant ride, fifty percent within open moorland, I know the route like the back of my
hand. There’s plenty time to daydream and think about my day ahead; what I’ve got
on, which group I’m teaching. The rest of the ride is a main and busy road, with
heavy congested traffic. Back-to-back traffic that you must concentrate to weave in
and out of. No daydreaming here but not a challenging journey, as it’s one straight
main road, you have just got to have your wits about you!
I arrive on to the college site, the huge five storey building standing in all its glory in
the morning sunlight, ready to come alive with the hustle and bustle of five thousand
students and workers alike. A magnificent building capable of holding and nurturing
the next generation of young people, guiding them into creating and making the
world a better place. Encouraging them to become the change the world needs,
enabling them to be resilient to the outside world and not fear the unknown. I like to
think that I play a part in helping to create a better world for the next generation.
Finding a place to lock your bike is easy at this time a day, the long line of bike racks
is mainly empty eagerly anticipating the rush that it’s about to hit in the next half
hour. Finding your bike at the end of the day now that is a totally different story!
Entering the building via the back entrance is simple with the lanyard provided,
access all areas, no problem. My office is on the third floor, I take the lift, as a treat,
as my exercise is complete for now. No gym membership needed, my daily commute
is enough!
My office is bright and airy, the sunlight streams through the window, which is
wonderful, but it can be very warm in the height of summer. Most of the office staff
complain but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’d rather be too warm in summer and
have access to fresh air and be able to see the sky and trees, all year round. I wasn’t
the first in, Jackie was always first, has a way to drive. A tall woman in her late fifties,
always smiling and telling jokes. Walks like she was in physical pain but never voices
it. Big rosy cheeks from probably too much drink but we don’t talk about that either.
I sit at my desk, number two in a line of five desks, with five opposite, there are
two sections equalling twenty desks. I switch on my laptop. As it warms up, I make a
cup of tea in the small L shaped kitchenette in the corner. It’s always full to the
brim of sweet treats: biscuits, cakes, chocolates and alike. But this morning I don’t
indulge in taking one, which is a rarity, believe me. A sweet item is a given when you
are forever running from one thing to next, the sugar hit is a must. Once back to the
warmed-up laptop, I log in and open my emails. Nothing significant really, just a
barrage of universal college emails giving mindless information that at some point I
will have to read and digest but not this morning! The only email that catches my
eye is a booked appointment in my diary regarding a male student, John whom I
have very recently started working with.
I have been visiting John at home, as his mental health has deteriorated that much that he is unable to attend college, he has a confirmed diagnosis of psychosis. John is a tall young man, thin, with long greasy hair and a dull complexion, due to not leaving his house. He is hard to ‘read’ as he doesn’t give anything away or talk much, so a working relationship has been difficult to form. He is bright and extremely capable of achieving top marks.
Working with John is a delicate process. A slow road of trial and error and patience.
Patience driven by a want to understand what he needs to feel safe. Needs to feel
free to learn and absorb the education. A delicate strategy of questions followed by
actions that you both agree on. Effectively I am led by him not his anxiety or
condition or what the textbooks say.
Apparently, John is to be dropped off by his mum at the front door, I am to meet him
there and complete our one to one in the room indicated in the email. A million
questions run through my head, who has authorised this or even asked for this?
John? His parents? College? And why?
Who has put this in my diary and authorised it? I search through the details to find
said person: Steve Lemington. Oh, that weasel, yeah like he knows about mental
health, he understands students so well, doesn’t he! Of course he doesn’t, he
understands stats and numbers needed to keep the college afloat. He understands
that bums on seats create better forecast of payments from governments, he doesn’t
see the student as an individual, just a number!
I am furious, I rise out of my chair, not one sip of tea has been drunk, as I’ve been
encapsulated by said email. Jackie shouts
‘Where are you going Annabel?’
‘To see Steve – I’ve got no fucking clue about students – Lemington!’ I reply.
Jackie rolls her eyes as she knows all too well the situation herself.
Marching out of the office, I begin to pass the incoming traffic of workers starting to
filter into the college, a few students who’ve also arrived on the early college bus
from the various nearby villages and towns.
I pick up speed, Steve’s office is positioned in a nice quiet spot in the library at the
back of the building. I walk into the library, a wonderful part of the building, it’s on
three floors. Filled from top to toe with amazing literature, fact books and artifacts.
But the heart of the library is the staff, an abundance of dedicated women, who love
their jobs. Their need and want to help a student find the right resource they require
is heartwarming and a delight to watch. These women are the heart and soul of this
college, but not seen that way by management. Without these women the college
would fall apart.
Rachel a librarian, is a small woman with a quirky haircut and crazy glasses to boot.
She’s a delight, with a naughty sense of humour.
‘Morning Annabel, you look like you on a mission, who you on your way to see?’
Rachel asks.
‘Steve, you seen him arrive yet?’ I reply.
‘Oh yes about half an hour ago!’
The librarians see everything, they don’t miss a trick. They know everything that is
going on! The best people to know in the college.
I knock and walk in at the same time,
‘Morning Steve, you got a sec?’
‘Oh, morning Annabel, no, not really got a lot on this morning actually’.
‘Like putting things in people’s diaries without consulting them?’
‘Erm yes, about that! We need him to start coming back into college, his attendance
is at 37% and we can’t have that!’
‘Steve, have you read his file. Do you know why he isn’t attending college?’
‘I’m fully aware, Annabel’.
‘Oh, so you have read, that I mustn’t be left alone with him, he requires two people with him at all times. That’s why his mum is always in the room.’
‘Yes, but you won’t be alone, you’ll have a full college, he needs to start attending, so
the first revisit to college is today. I’ve booked you a room and his mum will arrive
with him at 1pm.’
No further discussions were had and there was no need to even try, in the hierarchy
of work, what Steves say goes.
Walking out, shutting Steve’s door behind me, the library is now a completely
different place. Students everywhere, some looking for books, some just stood about
chatting. Others slouched in chairs looking at their phones, half asleep. Students on
computers frantically finishing pieces of work that need to be handed in.
A congregation of librarians are stood in a huddle around the central desk,
discussing the tasks ahead, cuppas in hand. I wave and smile as I quickly stride
past, now on another mission as I’m now running late for teaching my class.
Swiftly returning to a full staff room, no time to chat; literally collect my laptop, my
trolley on wheels with all my teaching stuff in, say hello to Jane and Sarah, grab my
water bottle and go! Jane and Sarah are in my team. A small team of tutors who
teach the young people who are struggling with the education system, not engaging
in a traditional manner due to poor mental health or unfortunate circumstances.
As I approach my teaching room, the flock of students outside the closed door
confirms I’m late to class.
‘Annabel, I think you’ll find that you are late, late I tell you!’
‘Alright quit the cheek Thomas, I know, sorry!’
Decoding the door, I open the room that the student’s herd into, sitting in their usual
seats, no changes made, no discussions had, the same seats every time, such
creatures of habit us humans!
I shut the door, I start to decamp whilst shouting instructions to the class, I hate
being late. They know this, I bang on about it enough to them! I would rather be set
up ready for their arrival, greeting each student as they enter the classroom,
checking their moods, faces, attire, and reactions one by one as they arrive. This
helps me assess what kind of class I’m going to have that lesson and how I need
to behave as college tutor – upbeat, as they are all half asleep or if I need to keep an
eye on a particular student, as they seem out of sorts. To get the most out of the
lesson and students, you’ve got to connect with them on a humanistic level and
understand that they are all living individual lives outside these four walls of a
classroom. With lives that we, the tutors, won’t every really understand. I am thankful
every day for them attending and say so at the end of each lesson ‘thanks for
coming guys, good to see you today! You know where I am if you need me.’
Repeated sentence day in day out.
The first lesson goes by quickly, as does the next, with no major incidents or dramas.
No students needing a quick ‘chat’ outside the classroom, no students needing bus
or dinner money tokens that I must go and retrieve whilst also teaching, no students
having anxiety attacks or breakdowns, just a bog standard boring, noneventful
lessons.
Lunch time arrives quickly, I arrive back to another full staff room, immediately
turning to Jane and Sarah asking ‘who’s seen what’s on the food menu today?
Whats for pudding?’ It could be sometimes deemed as the best part of the day, the
lunchtime menus. Glorified school dinners are what they are – like a jam roly-poly
and custard, taking you on a nostalgic journey of taste and smell. What an absolute
delight, it’s the little ‘glimmers’ of joy that make life worth living.
Jane, states with delight ‘it’s pie and peas and then pineapple upside down cake with
custard’ knowing full well that will be music to my ears! I hastily dump my stuff and
replace my hands with my purse and mobile. We navigate the crowds of
congregating students in the corridors to take the lift to the ground floor.
Joining the queue of staff eagerly awaiting to retrieve their chosen main and
puddings, Jane, and I natter and catch up on the last two lessons, the email I
received this morning and the exchange that took place with Steve – I’ve got no
fucking clue about students – Lemington! Before she has time to respond, it is our
turn at the counter with the excellent and jolly kitchen staff.
‘What can I get for you ladies?’
‘Oh, you know me Margaret, I’m all in for the pudding and custard! But I’ll also take
one pie and peas too please’.
Jane and I take our chosen meals back to the staff room, but we use the stairs, we
haven’t got time to wait for the one lift back to the third floor, as we have hot food to
devour.
Jane has worked at this college for over twenty years, she is a pleasure to watch
when working with the students. She is calm and collected, has a mother nature vibe
about her, in her clothes and physique.
The food was consumed at our desks. As we sit in our designated places, in a line
we discuss what we are all doing at the weekend.
‘Thought we’d try that new place in town, looks lovely drinks and tapas.’
‘Oh, what’s it called?’
‘Ambience just opened down Temple Street’.
‘Oh lovely, I love Tapas and I bet they’ll have some fab red wines on offer’.
‘Exactly my thinking! And it’s always nice to try out a new restaurant.’
The atmosphere and noise begin to shift in the office, once again, less quietness
from eating and chilling, to a busy getting ready feel for the next set of lessons:
trolleys filled, laptops at the ready, picking up piles of photocopying stacked ready to
distribute. The staff filter out one by one or in pairs, chatting as they go, the staffroom
becomes quieter and quieter, until I am the only one left in there. Wednesdays
normally consist of me doing a home visit and then finishing early to collect the kids
from school but of course all that changed by one single email this morning!
I sit in the silence and enjoy it, contemplating the best approach to the next situation.
A situation both John and I did not create but that was forced upon us. I do not
agree with the situation but must make it the best I can for John, as it will be him who
suffers, not me. I decide the best thing to do is to meet John at reception, so he can seem me, a familiar face.
I pick up my work mobile and start to make my way to reception, I have time on my
side, so I walk slowly along the corridors and down the stairs, not needing to create
crafty short cuts. It’s a pleasant walk, the corridors are mainly empty apart from a few
stragglers, who are putting off going to class.
A small group is congregated at the top of the stairs, near the window on floor two,
one of the students is mine. I stop to question her.
‘Stacey shouldn’t you be in maths right now?’
‘Yeah, I can’t be arsed, I hate maths, you know I do, and the maths teacher, Pete is a
right divvy!’
‘Yeah, maths is crap, I feel your pain, but if you keep putting it off, you’ll never pass.
Come on I’ll walk with you to your lesson, first floor, isn’t it?’
‘Can’t be arsed.’
‘Come on, anyway where should you two be?’
Turning to the other two unfamiliar students.
‘We’ve got a free’.
‘Right well Stacey hasn’t, so she’ll see you both later, off you go.’
They just stand and stare at me.
‘Go on then.’
My eyes and body language suggest they aren’t going to win, a further standoff
happens but they give in quite quickly and start walking towards the corridor away
from the stairwell.
‘Snap us when you get out Stace.’
‘Will do.’
Stacey and I walk down the flight of stairs in front of us and into the central corridors,
not much is said between us, Stacey is clearly pissed at me, to be seen and
escorted to Maths. Maths is at the front of the building and is easily found, I peer
through the glass in the door to check I have the right room. It is, pushing the door
open, I pop my head round.
‘Sorry Pete, Stacey and I had a meeting that overran, so that is why she is late for
your class.’
I push the door further to allow Stacey to step inside, she does so reluctantly and gives
me an eyeroll.
‘Cheers Annabel.’
Pete shouts as he turns his back on the door and continues to teach the class.
I check my mobile for the time and any messages that have come through. There is
one from Karen, John’s mum. “We are here but John won’t get out of the car” I stop
mid walk and open message to reply “what would you like me to do? I’ll be in
reception in two minutes, or I can come to the car, where have you parked?” “Just
wait in reception, I’m not forcing him to come in.” “Ok” I reply.
I walk down the final set of stairs with speed now, sprinting past the four sets of
gliding doors and get to the reception. I can see a car out front through the window,
two people present but my eyesight isn’t good enough to see if it is Karen and John.
I’ll sit, I think and sit down, hoping this will be less intimidating for John.
‘Who are you waiting for Annabel?’ reception staff enquire.
‘One of my students, John, I’ll sign him in when he gets here!’
Reception staff are not rule breakers, no one gets past them if they can help it, it
would be on them, if a random person was allowed in the building and they’d missed it. I check my phone again, nothing and I look out the window. Car still present, with two people sat in it, nothing has changed.
I sit back down, my phone flashes, another text “he won’t come in, he wants you to
come to the car, please.” I stand up and look at the reception staff.
‘I’m just going to collect my student from the car John Western, I can sign him in now
if you like? It’s probably best that way, as he’s nervous about coming into the
building.’
‘Well, we would rather he signs himself in, Annabel, but ok, just this once. Sign him
in then.’
I walk over and bend over the reception desk to fill in the signing in sheet, the
completed slip is torn off and a copy is given back to me in the form of a lanyard.
‘Thanks, appreciate it.’
I walk out through the sliding doors carrying the additional lanyard and head towards
the car, the closer I get I can see that it is Karen and John. I smile and wave, Karen
waves back and smiles nervously. Using the controls on her side, Karen opens
John’s passenger window, I lean on the open window whilst automatically bending
my knees into a crouching position.
‘Hi John, well done getting here today! You fancy coming inside? Your mum can wait
in the car, in the car park, if that would help.’
No words from John, just a nod of the head.
‘Excellent, well we have a room, it’s a lovely room on the second floor, in the library
and what we’ll do, is take the stairs at the front of the building’.
I point over to the stair windows.
‘Then we will walk around over the central bridge and into the library’.
I look for acknowledgment on John’s face, there is none.
‘Is that ok? Does that sound ok to you?’
John nods his head, I stand up and open the car door. I wait patiently as John
unfastens his seat beat, twists his body round, and puts both his feet on the ground.
It’s a continuous movement but painfully slow to watch and this doesn’t change for
the whole getting out of the car. I shut the door and bend down to speak through the
open window.
‘I don’t think we’ll be long, so if you want to park up and wait? Theres a coffee
machine inside or at the petrol station over the road, I’ll keep you posted.’
John hasn’t moved once while I communicated with his mother, stood like a
motionless statue with no expression or interest in his face or body.
I motion with my hand that we are going to walk towards the open sliding door, I
begin to walk and John painfully slowly follows. I explain why it’s better to take the
stairs at the front of the building.
‘Less quiet and not as exposed’
I match my walking pace to John’s, so we walk at the same time. It seems to take
forever to get in the building, once in I give a nod to the reception staff and hold up
the lanyard, which I am carrying in my hand for John, still not daring to ask him to
wear it. I keep using my hand and arm to point the way.
‘This way John’ and finally, we are at the foot of the stairs.
‘We are going to go up two flights of stairs John.’
As I state this out loud, we begin to climb, my mind starts racing; Why did I not
change the room booking and get one downstairs? How long is this climb going to
take? We’ve got to walk over to the library, oh my god this is going to take forever.
Why am I doing this? I keep it in perspective, this is horrible for me, but what about
poor John. I create a distraction through words out loud.
‘You are doing really well John’.
‘God, I wonder when the last time you were in this building’.
‘And look at you now, climbing the stairs to the second floor’ ‘bloody brilliant’.
This enthusiastic intervention continues until we reach the top.
‘Right nearly done, just round here and over the central bridge.’
‘Perhaps next time we’ll go in the lift, would you prefer that?’
There is no verbal answer from John just a negative nod of the head which is
universal for no!
The library staff are fully aware of my arrival, as they’ve witnessed me slowly walking
towards them, which is not my normal vibe: slow. The wonderful Rachel knows
exactly where I am heading, opens said room and switches the light on. I give her a
nod.
‘Thank you, Rachel, you angel.’
I walk in and John follows, I shut the door behind us. John is still standing.
‘You choose where you want to sit John, I’ve got no preference.’
John hesitates for what seems like a lifetime, there are four chairs positioned in a
cross formation. John decides upon the chair to the right, I seat myself opposite him.
John isn’t looking at me, he’s looking down at his hands, he’s scraping a tiny piece of
skin off with his fingernail, very delicately down the side of his thumb, causing it to
bleed. We sit in silence.
‘He told me to come here today’.
‘Who did John?’
Knowing full well that it was Steve – I’ve got no fucking clue about students –
Lemington!’
John motions his gaze and head towards the door. I turn and look, but of course
there is no one there either within the room or looking in on the other side through
the glass.
‘Who John, there is no one there’.
‘He said you’d say that he told me to come here today, as I’d be able to get it done.’
‘What do you mean John, get it done?’
‘You know complete the mission’.
‘What mission? Do you want to complete it?’
‘Well, he wants me to’ John motions again to the door.
‘John, I don’t see anyone in this room apart from me and you. I can hear the voices
from beyond the door, but that is all the people in the library. What can you hear?’
‘He says you are a bitch, and I shouldn’t tell’.
‘Who is he? Why is he here?’
‘He’s always with me, he tells me what to do and how.’
‘I notice you’ve got a cut on your head, that’s scabbed over. Did he tell you to do
that?’
‘He told me to hit my head on the garage wall, until it bled. Then I was allowed to
stop.’
‘Does he have a name? what does he look like?’
‘He’s called Thanatos – he’s tall, wears a dark cloak and clothing. I must listen to
him, or I will make him angry.’
‘What would happen if you made him angry?’
‘How do I know, stop asking questions.’
And with that John stands up and darts out of the room.
My god I’ve never seen him move so fast, I rush out the door, John has already fled from sight. The desk opposite is the librarian’s station,
‘Rachel did you see where that boy went, who was with me? Did you see him leave
the room?’
‘Yes, he ran up the central stairs.’
‘Thanks’
I run out of the library and up the stairs, the stairs are central to the whole building,
you can see across all the floors. It’s like a giant H. I am on the third floor within
seconds, I scan down each side of the building but cannot see him. I stand still and
wait, what can I hear, what can I see? I take my phone out of my pocket and dial the
number for Karen, his mother.
‘Karen, sorry, John has run off, I need you to come inside and wait at reception, it’s
his only entrance or exit. I am going to look for him and I’ll call you back.’
‘OK, Annabel why did he run off? What was he saying?’
‘No time to explain, I’ll explain later. Just get inside, please.’
I run the length of the H shaped building on either side, looking continuously over the
balcony, floors above and below. Asking staff, I bump into if they have seen him,
but to no avail. Shit where is he? What did he say again ‘He told me to come here
today’ ‘as I’d be able to get it done’ Shit, what does he mean, where the fuck is he?
As I stand near the central stairway, I spot him, I look up and see a figure by the
pillar to the right on the fourth floor. He’s holding on to the pillar and shouting at
someone behind him. There is no one behind him. No one at all. I run to the stairs at
the back of the building and climb them two, three at a time until I’m on the fourth
floor. This stairwell leads directly behind the pillar that John is holding on to. I creep
as quietly as I can towards John, until we are almost side by side.
‘John it is me, Annabel, I am going to come beside you, but I won’t touch you.’
‘Don’t come near me, or I’ll jump. He wants me to jump if I jump it will all go away.’
I tentatively move one foot forward and John puts one leg over the balcony.
‘Ok, ok, John I’ve stopped I won’t come near you anymore, look I’m stepping back,
I’m moving away. Put both your feet back on the floor John.’
I step back and hold my hands up as if he’s got a gun, showing my palms.
‘See I’m moving away’ John puts half his body over the balcony now and people are
noticing on floors below. Students are coming out of lesson now, looking, and
pointing. Talking in whispers in pairs, threes. Most students getting out their phones
and filming the situation. Staff frantically now asking students to move away and stop
filming. ‘Switch the phone off please, stop filming, hey!’
‘John, you don’t have to do what he says. You don’t have to listen to him.’
‘I do, he knows, he knows everything. I can’t stop it now. I can’t.’
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s stood behind you, can’t you see him?’
I turn to an invisible person, a blank and empty space and start to shout. ‘You aren’t
welcome here, you not allowed in here, I can see you’re not a student. You are
trespassing on college property, go away.’ I turn to John.
‘Please come back over, he’s gone. I’ve told him to go.’
‘He won’t listen to you, he’s still there. I’ve got to do it now.’
John manoeuvres his whole body over the balcony and lets go, in what seems like
slow motion his body plummets to the ground, the full four floors of space. His body
hits the ground with an almighty thud and the screams echo around the building.
Steves words ‘We need him to start coming back into college, his attendance is at
37% and we can’t have that!’ echoes through my body and soul, as I look on at the
lifeless body of John on the floor below.
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