The Infinite Humiliation of Caroline Sullivan

Echo

Caroline lay awake in the dark, listening for silence.

She stared up at the underside of the top bunk, having chosen the bottom for fear of falling when she was littler. Though it had been vacant for some time, she remained on the bottom out of habit, staring up at the springs and wires underneath the mattress, waiting.

She waited until all was silent, save for the soft breaths of her parents and sister, asleep in their rooms down the hall. She could not hear them from her own bed. She believed that she could.

Carefully, she pulled back her comforter and slowly swung her feet over the edge of her bed before lowering them to the floor, ensuring that the displacement of her weight would not inspire the rusted springs of her mattress to betray her again.

Before bed, she had left her door ajar just enough to slip through it soundlessly, but the stairs were a danger: old and prone to squeaks and groans. She measured her little footfalls, pressing her weight onto the railings as she descended - if not silently, then at least unnoticed - and placed her bare feet onto the cold linoleum of the downstairs hall.

She crept into the carpeted living room and then circled around the house to the closet where her winter coat, scarf, boots, snowpants, and mittens were kept. She retrieved them one item at a time, returning to the living room carpet to dress herself, trying not to move too much, as the rustling of the rough wind-proof fabric against itself might give her away.

She reached for the handle of the front door, and the street lights reflecting off the snow through its frosty windows cast a yellowish tint on her bulky pink snowsuit. She slowly turned the handle all the way to the right and tugged, trying to avoid the thunk of the wooden door abruptly coming loose from its frame.

The screen door was next. Caroline pushed it so slowly, opening just wide enough to get through. She opened it so gently that the whine of its metal contraption scraping against its own innards was reduced to a hiss as it closed behind her.

With one last glance back through the window, she watched for a change in the light. If they had heard anything, her parents weren't bothered enough to turn a light on about it. Satisfied, she turned and trudged out into the empty street.

It was late enough now that the whole town would be asleep. Caroline walked past each of her neighbours' lifeless and dark houses, without even the blue flicker of a TV to signal that any one might still be awake.

Caroline waddled in her little pink snowsuit, across the street and up the hill, without seeing a soul. The emptiness was a comfort. She closed her eyes and listened to the faint tinkling of new snow falling onto old snow, hardened by the cold.

Before long, her familiar destination opened up before her, illuminated by street lamps, despite how little their light was needed at this hour. She had arrived at her elementary school, long since closed for the night, its halls quiet and its windows black.

In the parking lot, the past weeks of snow had been piled higher and higher by the plow, forming what was - as far as Caroline was concerned - a mountain. At its foot, the janitorial staff had been considerate enough to create an ice rink for the kids.

She skidded across it, kicking out with one foot and balancing on the other, though her boots gripped the ice a bit too much for it to be a comfortable slide. When she reached the mountain, Caroline dropped to her knees and began to climb. On all fours, she climbed over hardened icy boulders, sharp crags, and piercing icicles, all yellowed by road salt and dirt. At last, she reached the top and surveyed all she could: the expanse of the schoolyard, a wasteland of packed snow and disused equipment.

Her breaths puffed out in little clouds around her as she panted from the exertion and her nervousness. She steeled herself. She had come with a purpose. Planting her boots firmly into the mountain's peak, she cupped her hands around her mouth like a megaphone, bent forward at the waist, and screamed.

The scream came back, hollowly bouncing off the ice and off the brick walls of her school.

She was determined to rid herself of it all: the nasty things the other children had said about her, the expectations her family had of her, the dark thoughts she had about herself. She wanted them gone, and she thought maybe if she shouted them out here, the emptiness would take them from her.

"Fatty!" she cried.
"Ugly!" she bellowed as the night froze her tears to her cheeks.
"Worthless..." she whispered.

Almost as soon as each insult had left her lips, it was thrown back at her by the emptiness. The hatred and disgust in her own voice were reflected in the echo, and she heard it as if she had said the words to herself with an authority she could not escape.

What if it was all true?

Stumbling and weeping, she turned around and was blinded by the headlights of her mother's car, which she had not noticed drive in behind her. The wet snot dripping from her nose glistened.

Her mother stood there in front of the car. She had hastily wrapped herself in her housecoat and awkwardly thrown her winter jacket over it. Her bare legs were freezing.

"Oh, Caroline..." her voice cracked.

Shattered, Caroline scrambled down into her mother's arms, and they huddled together, sobbing and shivering for a moment.

Gently, her mother picked her up and put her into the front seat. She sat behind the wheel, took a breath, wiped her eyes, and they drove home in silence with the weight of Caroline's words hanging over them both.