Too Good for this World Read Free Page A
Author: LK Chapman
Tags: Suicide, Short-Story, Marriage, loss, Prequel, videogames, existential, meaning of life, video game addiction, networked
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behind her. She was alone
in the house. Her mum was still at work and wouldn’t be home for
another hour or so yet. Imogen looked at the page- which was
boasting the school’s facilities, with a picture of a shiny new
block that had recently been built to house several
state-of-the-art classrooms. Her skin prickled again. How had it
opened before she’d even told it to? She was about to close the
website again when a message flashed up on the screen, so briefly
she wasn’t sure if she’d really seen it. A black screen with white
words across it, a short sentence, all in capitals. YOU WERE A
GREAT TEACHER.
2011
Jonny had
always admired her being a teacher. One evening after he’d had a
tough day at work he came home and said to her, ‘maybe I should do
what you do.’
‘Really?’ she
asked. He’d never mentioned it before.
‘Yeah,’ he
said, ‘you’re an inspiration. What you do in one day is better than
anything I’ve done my entire life.’
Imogen
laughed. ‘Jonny, you can’t be serious!’ she said, ‘you help to run
campaigns for a homeless charity. I just get kids to read things
they don’t want to read and then make them write about it.’
He put his
arms around her. ‘You shouldn’t do yourself down,’ he said,
‘working with kids is really important. More important than what
I’m doing.’
‘What do you
mean? How could what you do not be important?’
He frowned,
and she could sense he was agitated that she wasn’t understanding
his meaning more quickly. ‘What I do doesn’t change anything,’ he
said, ‘never as much as I want. And I’m just working in one tiny
area of all the problems there are in the world, I mean… there’s
just so much shit that goes on. Every day, just so much shit. ’
By the end of
the sentence his voice was raised and Imogen felt a little scared.
‘Jonny,’ she said, ‘it’s alright.’ She tried to touch him but he
moved out of the way. ‘It’s not alright,’ he said, ‘I feel like… I
feel like there is just this tidal wave of crap going on all the
time, everywhere, and it’s like everyone is inside this glass house
and I can see them and hear them and I’m banging on the window
trying to get them to listen to me before they’re swallowed up by
it, but they won’t. They just won’t.’
2015
Imogen could
hardly sleep that night for remembering the message she thought
she’d seen. You were a great teacher. It had the ring of
Jonny about it. She knew she couldn’t really have seen it. She was
still shaken by the argument she’d had with her mum the day before
about the dating website, and then the job opportunity had come up
and thrown her even more. That was all it was. With everything that
had been going on she could hardly blame herself for imagining
things.
She finally
began to drift off around two a.m. As her thoughts became less and
less lucid, she thought she could hear a voice; a quiet, gentle
voice that lulled her into sleep. It was saying, Istillloveyougenniestillloveyougenniestillloveyougennie.
2014
Affrayed had
been made, originally made, in any case, by a company called DAWN
Industries. Imogen knew this because she’d read and heard all about
it after the suicide pact that was responsible for Jonny’s death.
Apparently the game had been “hijacked”, and its creators, Nick
Winterbourne and Dan Avery had been “victims” in the whole thing
too. What nobody seemed to know was how or why the game had been
taken over, and just as mysterious, why every copy of it had now
disappeared as though it had never existed at all. On the first
anniversary of Jonny’s suicide, she emailed DAWN Industries, her
mood dark and dangerous.
Dear Nick and Dan, I
want you to know that my husband was one of the people who killed
himself after getting obsessed with your game. I know it apparently
wasn’t your game, but I don’t care. If it hadn’t existed my husband
would still be here. He was the love of my life. Now that he’s
in the house. Her mum was still at work and wouldn’t be home for
another hour or so yet. Imogen looked at the page- which was
boasting the school’s facilities, with a picture of a shiny new
block that had recently been built to house several
state-of-the-art classrooms. Her skin prickled again. How had it
opened before she’d even told it to? She was about to close the
website again when a message flashed up on the screen, so briefly
she wasn’t sure if she’d really seen it. A black screen with white
words across it, a short sentence, all in capitals. YOU WERE A
GREAT TEACHER.
2011
Jonny had
always admired her being a teacher. One evening after he’d had a
tough day at work he came home and said to her, ‘maybe I should do
what you do.’
‘Really?’ she
asked. He’d never mentioned it before.
‘Yeah,’ he
said, ‘you’re an inspiration. What you do in one day is better than
anything I’ve done my entire life.’
Imogen
laughed. ‘Jonny, you can’t be serious!’ she said, ‘you help to run
campaigns for a homeless charity. I just get kids to read things
they don’t want to read and then make them write about it.’
He put his
arms around her. ‘You shouldn’t do yourself down,’ he said,
‘working with kids is really important. More important than what
I’m doing.’
‘What do you
mean? How could what you do not be important?’
He frowned,
and she could sense he was agitated that she wasn’t understanding
his meaning more quickly. ‘What I do doesn’t change anything,’ he
said, ‘never as much as I want. And I’m just working in one tiny
area of all the problems there are in the world, I mean… there’s
just so much shit that goes on. Every day, just so much shit. ’
By the end of
the sentence his voice was raised and Imogen felt a little scared.
‘Jonny,’ she said, ‘it’s alright.’ She tried to touch him but he
moved out of the way. ‘It’s not alright,’ he said, ‘I feel like… I
feel like there is just this tidal wave of crap going on all the
time, everywhere, and it’s like everyone is inside this glass house
and I can see them and hear them and I’m banging on the window
trying to get them to listen to me before they’re swallowed up by
it, but they won’t. They just won’t.’
2015
Imogen could
hardly sleep that night for remembering the message she thought
she’d seen. You were a great teacher. It had the ring of
Jonny about it. She knew she couldn’t really have seen it. She was
still shaken by the argument she’d had with her mum the day before
about the dating website, and then the job opportunity had come up
and thrown her even more. That was all it was. With everything that
had been going on she could hardly blame herself for imagining
things.
She finally
began to drift off around two a.m. As her thoughts became less and
less lucid, she thought she could hear a voice; a quiet, gentle
voice that lulled her into sleep. It was saying, Istillloveyougenniestillloveyougenniestillloveyougennie.
2014
Affrayed had
been made, originally made, in any case, by a company called DAWN
Industries. Imogen knew this because she’d read and heard all about
it after the suicide pact that was responsible for Jonny’s death.
Apparently the game had been “hijacked”, and its creators, Nick
Winterbourne and Dan Avery had been “victims” in the whole thing
too. What nobody seemed to know was how or why the game had been
taken over, and just as mysterious, why every copy of it had now
disappeared as though it had never existed at all. On the first
anniversary of Jonny’s suicide, she emailed DAWN Industries, her
mood dark and dangerous.
Dear Nick and Dan, I
want you to know that my husband was one of the people who killed
himself after getting obsessed with your game. I know it apparently
wasn’t your game, but I don’t care. If it hadn’t existed my husband
would still be here. He was the love of my life. Now that he’s