by ThePenPiper

TO: Ellie-Rose Wilde
FROM: Kodi Michael Wilde
DATE: September 20
th, 2017
6:45 AM.

Dear Ellie-Rose,

Something was definitely different when I woke up this morning. I felt great- didn't have to motivate myself to get out of bed. I opened my eyes a fraction, waiting for them to ache with the desire for proper sleep. It never came! It was like I got all the hours I needed for a decent nights' sleep, nothing more nothing less. Without sitting up, my eyes scanned my surroundings. One half of the dark ominous bedroom I call my own was at my level of tidiness as usual; socks and shirts loitered the floor, crumbled, half opened papers spilling out of the wastebasket, and my desk, littered with sketches, and drafts of unimportant letters.

A song I knew so well that I could recite backwards played in my ear. Soft and soothening, I subconsciously hummed along to the song. I only took a heavy breath when I felt the air leaving my lungs, and my eyes closed, not out of tiredness, of course. But it was to engage in a scenario that best suited the song, and watch the story unfold…


I sat up when the music turned off, and looked around. The other bed was vacant. I didn't hear you, Mum, or Dad stir, despite the noise George made on his way downstairs.

Clump, Thud, Clump, Thud, Clump… funny how I can know its him just by the sound of his footsteps.

He was always the noisier twin; but was neater than I. The clothes he left slung over the chair was gone (preferably now on him), and his bed was made. He dragged himself out of bed most of the time, and would close the door at a volume loud enough to wake me from my slumber.

I have lost count how many times it occurred, nor can I recall when he first started doing it but as the quote-unquote 'oldest twin', he had the unofficial job to get me up without causing some-sort of argument at such a ghastly hour. It was force of habit, he would tell me, saying it was the only way to get me up for school. Now that he's working so early in the mornings, I think he only did it just to rile me up.


TO: Ellie-Rose Wilde
FROM: Kodi Michael Wilde
DATE: September 20
th, 2017
7:30 AM.

Dear Ellie-Rose,

I don't know what it was, but something about the desolate kitchen, long after you, Mum, Dad, and George left for work and school, wasn't as unsettling, or as alien, than breakfast time. No one spoke, despite my weak efforts to start the conversation;

What subjects have you got this morning Ellie?

Don't you get off early on a Friday Dad?

Can we get a Chinese later Mum? The match is on tonight!

But none of you answered me; your physical response was just the synchronizing clanks of spoons, clattering of cups and sharp inhales as different coloured containers touched the table. Little to no words, not even a coherent syllable.

You, with your Iron tablets, Mum with her Vitamin C, and Dad was just opening a new pack of one whose name I didn't see. I couldn't see how you all were able to do it every day, yet Mum's nose would scrunch up at the smell of oranges, or you'd turned your head away from the sight of raw, fresh red meat in the butchers.

I got that you were trying to be healthy and more animal friendly by not eating red meat and the smell of orange on Mum's fingertips after peeling one makes her nauseous, but it has its bad side like everything else. You're all more tired than usual.

When you all left for school and work at eight, the house suddenly got bigger. There was the distant hum of cars racing up and down the main road, the occasional honk or two, a dog barking somewhere far off, the fridge hummed, and then a low buzzing in my ear, once I realised I was home alone.


I should really get another job; despite Mum and Dad's jobs that had us cushioned for most of our lives, George was always independent. He never liked asking for money, he was too proud for that. I didn't either, but I could never sit in the same job.

I hate being home on my own, (never thought you'd hear me say that willingly huh?) I could search for the prime reason, but sauntering around the house, looking at the pictures that decorated the walls;

George and I as rambunctious, muddy five year olds, one of four-year-old us meeting you for the first time, one of all five of us, all smiles- I forgot to go on the hunt. Looking at the family portrait, it brought a smile to my face quicker than I anticipated. You in your pig tails, us in our communion suits, Mum and Dad in their finery…

There was that silence again. Maybe I'll go for a walk.

I can only tolerate the stillness for a little while.


TO: Ellie-Rose Wilde
FROM: Kodi Michael Wilde
DATE: September 20
th, 2017
9:15 AM.

I went to the park while you were cooped up in that dusty school, probably snoozing and drooling all over the desk instead of hearing the teacher waffle.

Haven't been to this park in a while, so I figured it'd be nice to go. I had music playing low once I walked into the thicker canopy that blocked out the sound of manmade machines. It was almost like a dome; nothing but the right sounds sang; the blue bird, wind swirling between the leaves, the cool bubbly river- there was no metallic roars or long beeps of frustration that were close to make your ears bleed.

Before I knew it, I was at an old playground. Yellow tapes and a wire fence stopped me from going in, if I bothered to walk away. I leapt over it, and wove around the area, and observed. Desolate swing sets, a rusty see-saw, a jungle gym, which the paint that was once bright and colourful was peeling away with time. It was themed, but the missing, or discoloured patches of paint made it hard to remember what handiwork the council did to make this a happy place.

Mum and Dad used to take us here when we were little, remember? You were only two when it first appeared, and when you were four, and George and I just turned eight, we came in one day to find a magnificent addition; The Space Chute.

It was a large, spectacular slide, higher than the sky itself way back when, with sharp twists and turns before hitting the cushioned ground upon the exit. Despite Dad's warning that you were too small to go down the big kid slide, you were adamant and came with us, but at the top, you stared down the long dark chute, like it was a monster ready to eat you up. I called you a big baby for your blubbering, but George insisted we were scared once upon a time, and made me go down with you.

I chuckle at the memory

You clung onto me like a little monkey, eyes shut up tight as we descended down the tunnel, and laughed when we were in the eyes of the sun, and I asked if you wanted to go again.

I can still remember your eyes lighting up at the offer, and I felt warm and happy inside to see you excited, and we made a pact that the slide was the first thing we had to do every time we went to the park. Together, of course.

As you grew, George, our friends, and I taught you, and your friends, how to play Curbs and Tip-The-Can. We'd catch bees in bottles and let them go, play chase in the cul de sac from the dawn til dusk, take walks to the shop with a weekly allowance to pig out on the sweets, only taking breaks to grab our dinner, and we would only call it a day when all the street lights signalled us to get home…

Life was better without the electronic virus, wasn't it Ellie-Rose?


TO: Ellie-Rose Wilde
FROM: Kodi Michael Wilde
DATE: September 20
th, 2017
11 AM

Dear Ellie Rose,

I was by the pond we used to go to feed the ducks with Mum. Could they still be around, those very ducks? Or their own little ducklings, and grand ducklings? You were one for information on animal life span, maybe you'd know. Could you even remember this? Surely you must, cos one time George pushed me into the pond, 'accidentally' when he caught sight of what he thought was a swan (it was a seagull really). You were in hysterics.

But did you know better? You were only six. You sobbed as a stranger jumped in to scoop me out, the unnamed hero he will always be. I didn't care to get his name.

I was shivering, and after George got a telling off, we went straight home. He went to bed without any supper, I was mummified in blankets, like the time the heating broke, almost four years later, and we were all bundled up in jumpers and blankets the three days we were without heating (not to mention having to go to Aunt Tracy's for a shower). It was worth it though; you stuck by me the whole time, even when I caught a violent cold. You got it after me, but we both laugh and blame George for that, although he swears it was an accident.

It was worth it.

After the park I went to the train station, waiting for George to get off the train. He was due home, and since I didn't work, and nothing better to do, I'd normally wait for him on a Friday. It was desolate and empty once the outbound train rolled out of sight, and it left me, and one or two strandilers loitering the tag-on posts and automatic doors. No one sat with me, spoke with me, or acknowledged my presence, so I didn't bother to notate faces.

There were vacant seats, so I took the temporary ownership of one. No one sat beside me, and just hung around. It was another ten minutes until George's train was due, so I passed the time, whistling, and looking elsewhere.

An advert caught my eye;

All Ears …
Always there, when it feels like no one else is.

The number was underneath, clear as day. My hand reached into my pocket, pulled out my phone, and dialled in the number. I had a thing or two to talk about, I needed to voice some concerns… I had it reciting in my head.

My family are normally so happy… something's wrong… what can I do for them to make them smile and laugh?

No answer… they must be busy.


TO: Ellie-Rose Wilde
FROM: Kodi Michael Wilde
DATE: September 20
th, 2017
3 PM

Dear Ellie-Rose,

George was quiet the whole trek home. The first twists and turns I tried to talk to him, but his ear phones were in, the music was high, and by the sour look on his face, I soon fell to defeat, and I gave up. He must have had a long miserable day at work; his head was low, his face an unhealthy frown, eyes panda like and hollow. His thin face was more defined by his high cheek bones, his body seemed to sink further into the depths of his coat. It didn't look cold; the sun was out, yet I felt no heat or chill.

"Watch it!" I said jokingly when he slammed the door. "It'll fly off its hinges if you keep doing that!" George said nothing, and just stomped off to the kitchen; he must have taken my advice to shove his opinions elsewhere… literally. "…Gonna rob a smoke of you, kay?" Being the scabby twin, I still went off to get whatever I was looking for regardless of his answer.

No reply. I'll take that as a yes. I made the climb upstairs to look for the loot, and passed your bedroom door. You left it open this morning, which gave me to full view of this half tidy room before making my way in.

I shook my head, tutting at the full basket of clothes that had yet to be put away, posters of all the sappy boybands you liked, and I despised, were pasted over the baby pink walls, your computer sat neatly on the desk, bed partially made up. I grew uncomfortable in the silence again, kinda wishing it was morning, and you were still in bed so I could swan dive onto you to wake you up for no good reason, like I used to. When we were younger.

Shrugging off the childish thought, I rotated my gaze to the wingspread litter of CD's on the desk, which I missed notating in my first gander. I leaned over to read the names; Cash, Queen, the Script, MJ, Green Day, Linkin Park…

Anything and everything I heard and liked the sound of, whether it was country, rock, R&B, Pop, I listened to it… and now you're doing the same. I'm proud of you Ellie-Rose, finally moving to some of the good stuff…

I smiled at the scene beside the glory; you were forever putting more pictures on the wall. Every print out, every polaroid, every shape added to the explosion all over the walls; not in any particular order, but whatever way you slapped them on the wall, it came out as a really nice flow of these memories you keep…

Pictures of you and your friends were becoming less and less it seemed. I can see more of us; the trip to Clare, Kerry, Cork, Montana, Spain, London… all the family pictures that were tucked away in the attic.


TO: Ellie-Rose Wilde
FROM: Kodi Michael Wilde
DATE: September 20
th, 2017
4 PM

Dear Ellie-Rose,

You finally came home from school. Mum, Dad, and George aren't in the mood to talk, so I decided to bug you. You dumped your homework on the desk, knocking over all the CD's. I watched as you sighed, and knelt down to pick them up one by one.

"Els-Bells," I say with an excited look. You kept your eyes to the floor, and you didn't say anything, so I started talking. I started telling you how happy I am to see you liking the good artists… "but that isn't the best part!" I followed you out of the room, and stopped outside the bathroom after you closed the door. I quickly switched the subject, to how the walk in the park brought back all the good times, and the things George and I did to make you laugh and how good it was back in the old days.

"You remember all the good times… don't you?"

I tell you all the good things, my mouth giving better details than what this email is giving, yet you don't smile and laugh at what I say.

"There was the space chute, and the pond… how about we should go to the park and explore the thickened canopy like before…."

Maybe then we could take the time to talk properly.

"I know I haven't been very talkative lately, but I can tell you now."


"Ellie? Say something will you?"

Instead of responding to my offer, you opened the bathroom door, gaze towards me, tears streaming down your usual dimpled cheeks. I look over my shoulder, and I see a shelf; small teddies, cards, a vase of flowers, rosary beads… and me.

I stopped talking, and just stared at it all too. Before I turned back to face you, you walk right through me, and into your room, leaving the door ajar.

I ran for my room, to find George staring up at the ceiling, motionless. "George?" He didn't reply. "George!" I ran over to him. "Answer me!" He didn't; but what he did do was get up from the bed, and out the door when he heard your door close. I watched him leave, before looking at the bin by the desk, where the paper was spilling at the brim. I picked up one of the pieces of paper, and opened up to see scribbles and squiggles, but at the end of the page brought me back to reality.

"I'm sorry everyone."

I just wish I could tell you what was going through my head. I don't know the root of the cause, of why I started feeling the way I did.

But does that even matter now Ellie-Rose?

Tossing the paper to the floor, I walk back out to your room, and find George sitting with you on the bed, her wrapped up in his arms, a blanket swaddled around your shoulders. Time changes and it was almost like I woke up one morning… and I wasn't okay, and now that's constantly on your mind; you wanted to know what was going on, why I felt the way I did… and why I did what I did to end it.

It's over for me, but it's just beginning for you, is it, Ellie-Rose?




I wrote this story a few years ago, when my family was going through a rough time. We've lost a family and friends suicide, so I plucked up the courage to upload this for Suicide Prevention Month.

According to Samaritians ( ireland/about-samaritans/research-policy/suicide-facts-and-figures/ ), in 2018 there were 352 suicides in my country, with 6,859 suicides in Ireland and the UK combined!

Men are four times likely to end their lives then it does women, and there's rise in young people ending their lives, for many different reasons. If you are struggling right now, please know you don't have to go through with this alone.

wiki/List_of_suicide_crisis_lines - this link will direct you to all the suicide hotlines in the world.

You are worth living.