Save a Seat For Me

Content Warning: This story contains sensitive content relating to mental health and physical violence (off the page). Please prioritise your own wellbeing before reading.

Hi Dad,

It’s been a while. I’m not really sure what I’m doing, but Julie said it might help if I wrote to you.

I asked her what I should say. She told me to start by telling you about my day, so here goes.

A jackhammer woke me up this morning. At least, that’s what it sounded like. The neighbours are renovating again, adding another extension. I swear the extensions now take up more space than the house did originally.

It wasn’t the best way to wake up. I let Tanner out into the garden, put on a pot of coffee, and listened to the radio - Jimi Hendrix was playing. You saw him once, right?

Tanner was fussing about his walk, so we went to the park. He barked at the swans. Mad dog.

It was raining. It’s always bloody raining these days.

When we got back, it was time to see Julie. She was a ray of sunshine, as always. She’s added a new badge to her collection. This one’s a skeleton holding a book that says, ‘Just one more chapter.’ Pretty funny.

She asked how I’m doing. I told her about Jimi Hendrix and the swans. She says I need to get out more.

That’s it, that was my day. I asked Julie why I should bother writing to you since you never write back. She says it’ll be good for both of us. I doubt that, but I’ll do as she says for now.

Speak soon,

K

— —

Hey Dad,

Today was a GREAT day! I got a job - how exciting is that?

I’m not sure if you care, but I wanted to tell you anyway because it’s a job I think you’ll be proud of. I’m a librarian, if you can believe it.

Do you remember that time you read The Wind in the Willows to me as a kid? It was the first story I fell in love with, and you did the best voices. Shy little Mole, cautious Ratty, and mad as a box of frogs, Mr Toad.

He was always my favourite.

Well, now I get to be around books all the time. I wonder if I’ll find anything as good as The Wind in the Willows.

I’ll let you know if I do.

-K

— —

Hey Dad,

How’s it going?

I wanted to tell you about a new book I found. I don’t think it’s your cup of tea, but the title made me laugh.

It’s called How To Kill Your Family.

How funny is that? I haven’t read it yet, but I did check it out. Don’t worry, it’s not an instruction manual. LOL.

It made me wonder, though, if I should write my own. We could write it together.

The new job is going great. We had ice cream in the break room today, strawberry. I like that there aren’t many other librarians - I prefer it quiet so I can read when there’s no one borrowing or returning books.

Tanner says hi. Well, he would, if dogs could talk.

I do wish you’d write back. I want to know what you think of the book title and my job.

I’ll let you know if the book is good.

-K

— —

Today fucking sucked. Julie is a stupid cow who doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

She says she doesn’t think the library is a good fit for me right now.

I told her to go fuck herself.

She didn’t like that.

She told me I should consider other options. But I don’t want to consider any other options, Dad.

You know how much I loved books as a kid. I think this could be my calling, you know?

It’s quiet in the library, a place I can really think, and it’s nice when someone asks for my help finding something to read. I like helping.

I don’t like Julie sticking her nose in where it’s not wanted. She can be such a bitch, Dad.

I think she only sees me as a paycheck most of the time, like I’m someone she wishes she didn’t have to be around. I hate it. I hate her for making me mad and upset.

If she ruins this for me, I’ll never forgive her.

I’ve got to go now.

Tanner is scratching at the door, and I need to let him out.

I’ll write again soon,

K

__ __

Why is life so unfair, Dad?

Julie opened her big, fat mouth and got me fired from the library. I don’t understand why she did it.

I think she might be jealous that I’m spending time with other people and not talking to her more.

I don’t think she wants me to be happy, Dad.

I don’t think she’s ever wanted me to be happy.

I think she’s a liar.

I think she’s always been a liar.

Dad, do you think she’s been lying to me all along?

I don’t know what to do. I’m so angry. I feel like a kettle on the boil, just bubbling up and up, closer to the surface, the more I think about what she’s done.

I don’t know what will happen if the pressure keeps building, like my lid will pop off or something, and I’ll explode.

She’s ruined everything.

__ __

Dad,

Julie says I’m overreacting. She says the library wasn’t a good place for me, that I don’t need books distracting me and filling my head with more fantasies. She says getting me sacked was the right thing for me.

I disagree. I think being around Julie isn’t a good place for me. I think she’s the one distracting me and filling my head full of rubbish I don’t need.

I have to dump her, Dad. She’s no good for me anymore.

I’ll write again after I speak to her,

K

__ __

It’s done.

Julie’s out of my life for good.

You’d be proud of me. I told her the truth. I told her she was suffocating me, stifling me, keeping me penned in.

I told her I need freedom, that I need books.

She told me I needed to grow up, that I needed to stop daydreaming.

I realised she’s been wrong for me since the beginning. She took everything from me in the end, even Tanner.

She said he’s not even real, Dad, can you believe that?

As if I could just imagine my dog, like I’m as mad as Toad.

But I’m smarter than she is. She didn’t manage to take everything. I forgot to tell you, I found a copy of The Wind in the Willows in the library before she got me sacked.

I took it and tucked it under my mattress, where I can read all about Ratty, Mole and Toad whenever I like. I like to imagine I’m floating on the river, the sun shining down on me, swans floating by. It’s warmer there than it is in here.

Sometimes I imagine I’m Toad, behind the wheel of his motorcar, but I always wake up when I see you standing in the road.

I can’t write for much longer today, Dad, and this might be my last email for a while.

There’s still no alarm. The corridors are quiet, just the clang of the gates ever so often.

They haven’t found Julie yet.

But it’s only a matter of time before her next appointment, and they find where I left her.

I’ve done whoever’s next a favour, if you really think about it. What’s the point of a therapist who lies to you? Aren’t they supposed to help you work through the truth? They can’t do that if they’re a liar, can they?

I mean, you’d know, wouldn’t you, Dad?

You know all about lying; you made an art of it over the years. Telling everyone I was deranged, unstable, incapable of telling the truth.

But hey, maybe you were right. Maybe I am unstable. Maybe it takes someone truly deranged to do what I did to you and to Julie.

But at least I’m not a liar - I hate liars.

Maybe you and Julie can compare notes. It’ll give you something to do to pass the time until I join you.

There, I hear it now.

They’ve sounded the alarm. Footsteps thunder past my cell as more of them run towards her office. Tanner barks at the noise.

Maybe we’ll see each other sooner than we thought.

I’m looking forward to it.

Save a seat for me in hell, old man,

Kate