Pretty Birdie

Chapter 37 - Unsocial Media

After being alone with my thoughts and the TV for just over a week I go on a hunt for my mobile, finding it where I last left it. At the bottom of my bag. As I pull it out I hold the button on the side and watch as the screen flashes on.

When the loading screen disappears a notification pops up. And then another. And another. As I stare as the screen the list of notifications grows and grows. From texts to Facebook to Instagram, my phone is blowing up. I open my texts as I wait for the vibrations to stop. I have texts from dozens of people including Anna, my mum and Wes. Guilt sets in as I open the texts from my mum. I don't know why I didn't tell her what happened to me. I guess it was shame and fear and I didn't want her to feel disappointed in me, but as I read the messages I realise she's heartbroken that I didn't call or text her after everything that happened. She had to find out what happened from newspapers and through people on Facebook, trying to get some inside gossip. I'll call her later today to talk to her. Try and get her to understand it wasn't anything to do with her, but I was still trying to process and I definitely didn't realise I would make the front page of every newspaper around. I close that text and flick through the ones from Anna, wanting to know where I'd gone and how I was doing. I send her a quick reply letting her know I'm safe at the cottage and that I just needed some space to think about things, before opening the texts from Wes.

'Where have you gone?'

'Why did you leave?'

'Did I do something to upset you?'

'Please B, I want to understand what's happening'

I read and reread the messages and feel my heart break all over again. I can't deal with this. I close the texts from him without replying and open Facebook.

Someone I know from school has tagged me in a newspaper article about Xander and before I can stop myself I open it.

I read everything and wonder how they got hold of all this information. Details from my experience that are so accurate someone must have told them what happened to me. As I scroll I get to the bottom of the article and make my way to the comments. Most people share their disgust for the monster and send their condolences to the families of the girls who didn't make it. But sprinkled throughout the comment are people who stand behind Xanders actions. Complete strangers who commend Xanders actions.

'I don't know what peoples issues are, he was only getting rid of dirty sluts. That Birdie girl needs locking up. Or better yet, let me finish the job.'

'Birdie deserves what she got and then some.'

'Lock her in a room with me. She'd never walk out.'

I know I should stop, but I can't help but read the hurtful, vile things these people are saying. I was lucky to get away from him with my life, but somehow I'm the bad guy?

As I lift my finger to the exit button a message pops up on the screen.

'Who's Adam' I say to myself as I open the message.

'Hi' Is all it says

'Hi, do I know you?' I reply

Within second a message pings back from him.

'No, We've never met. I hope this isn't weird, but I'm Cassie's brother.'

I pause. As I realise this is the brother of one of Xanders victims. Why would he message me? I struggle to think about what I should say to him. What do people say in this sort of situation?

'Oh, I'm sorry about your sister' Is what I settle on. That's what normal people would say, right?

'Thank you, she was my best friend. I can't believe I'll never see her again, you know. But I'm glad I finally have closure. I would never have known If it wasn't for you.'

I take solace in the fact that what I experienced did bring something good from it although I now feel a world of guilt for Adam, having lost his sister whist I'm still here. I don't reply straight away so he messages me again.

'Can we talk about what happened to you? Just so I can understand what happened to my sister. The police have told us very little and I need to know what she went through in her last days.'

I contemplate what I'm being asked. I don't want to relive that time again, at least not anytime soon and definitely not over a Facebook message.

'I'm sorry, I can't talk about this, definitely not over text messages' I say

'Well, could we meet then? I'll come to you?' he offers

A pang of fear washes over me at the thought of being alone with a complete stranger, but as if on queue he addresses my fear.

'We could meet at a coffee shop or somewhere?' He suggests

'Can I think about it?' I ask

There's a silence for a few minutes until I get a reply.

'Yeah, I hope you agree to meet. Let me know when and where and I'll be there' he says.

I don't reply as I close the app, pulling me back to my solitude. Before putting my phone away I order some more groceries for delivery, not wanting everyone pointing and staring at me like before, as I resign myself to the fact I'm not ready to face my reality, wanting to stay hidden a little while longer.

'I suppose I should call mum as well' I say to myself in a little voice.

I pull her up on my phone contacts and press the call button. The phone doesn't ring for very long as my frantic mother answer it crying down the phone to me. This isn't going to be quick.