Last October I was in Wellington, New Zealand staying at my boyfriend's sister, A.V.'s house. I was nearing the end of my time in New Zealand and was travelling around seeing the rest of the country before I had to leave. We were at her friends house, just hanging out, listening to music. I was taking advantage of the internet while it was available when I got an email from CJ, my best friend, telling me that something terrible had happened and that I should call her immediately.
I stayed calm, CJ often went to extremes when describing events that were really not. I checked my live journal friends list to see if this terrible thing had happened within the group and not just with CJ. I read "I can't believe she's gone.", I read "She was so beautiful." I read "Cheleigh called me before she jumped, I had no idea." I jumped up, told Dan's sister that I had to go to her house to use the phone and ran up the hill to find out what was happening.
I called CJ but there was no answer so I called another close friend, both to me and to Chesleigh, and when he answered I told him what I knew and he told me the rest.
"She jumped off a 30 story building, a hotel. She just checked in, went straight upstairs to the pool on the roof. Apparently she texted a few people to say goodbye and she'd sent some packages a few days before. No one saw her do it but the police said she must have been running full speed, she was far from the building when she landed."
He was very calm, he'd known for two days and had already resolved how he felt towards it.
"I think after all she'd tried, the therapy, the clinics, the medications... she just felt like it was never going to end. It's been like she was just waiting for the right time."
I hung up with him and called CJ again. She told me the details of the memorial and who she thought was coming. She sounded tired and worn. I told her I'd try to leave early to make it.
I called my parents, told them I'd be trying to come back early.
I called Qantas and moved my flight up a week.
I called the bus station and scheduled a bus ride to Auckland.
I called Dan's other sister, V.V. who lived in Auckland to tell her that I'd be coming a week early, and why.
After that all I could do was wait. I was in Wellington and I wanted to explore it and have fun with A.V. and her friends and I did, but it was often from a strange and ghost-like point of view. When I wasn't with A.V. I would walk around the city, getting lost trying to find internet facilities or Te Papa.
Travelling alone can sometimes mean not talking for hours, sometimes days on end. Often while I was travelling the only break in silence I'd have would be to make reservations for hostels or bus rides and the occasional chat with other travellers.
I'd think about Chez and envisage her running off the building.
It was sunset, the pool reflected the rainbow sky as the walked up the stairs calmly. She smiled at the people passing by, wet from swimming, they were on their way down from the rooftop pool. They smiled back and continued on. Once on the roof the savoured the sunset over Dallas, breathing deeply, feeling everything inside of her come alive. She wanted to say goodbye but knew that she could not speak to her friends so she texted a few instead. " I screamed your name into the sunset" she wrote to her best friend, her closest companion. Her friend smiled, feeling loved when she read it.
Then Chez walked to the far end of the pool, away from the ledge. She breathed deeply again and ran as fast as she could, jumping as far as she could, she thought of everything at once. Flying, falling fast to and end.
I thought about her but couldn't really imagine her dead. I hadn't spoken to her in years, I'd been travelling and our group of friends had split off to various colleges or paths in other cities. She'd been going through alot and had checked herself into a few clinics, for eating disorders, depression, anxiety, for the terrible thoughts in her head that she could not believe but could not expell. I found her friendship unattainable and so did not try very hard to know her. My closest friends were her closest friends and they were all in love with her but it did not seem to me that she was able to love them in return and I only wanted friends that could. She was thoughtful though and she felt deeply for the pain of others. If you were sad she'd send a letter or possibly a stuffed unicorn, her totem animal.
She was beautiful and mysterious and too succeptable to the whims of her depression. It seemed like she was constantly trying something new to make it go away but after a while did not believe that anything would make the intense sadness go away.
Her memorial was amazing and enriched with her personality. The turn out was huge, from people who'd known her her whole life to those who'd only met her a few weeks before.
There were readings from her journals and her poetry, her father spoke about her as a child and how much they loved her, her brother played a song he wrote for her on his guitar, a few friends came up and remembered funny stories and one played the first song that she'd learned on the piano, which Chez taught her. She wore a hat with bear ears while she played. It was whimsical and deep and perfect. Seeing how many lives Chez touched and how deeply really amazed me. Of course everyone speaks well of the dead, everyone remembering perfection and Chez was surely not perfect. She'd still be here if she was.
I was glad I come home early for it becuase it showed me that her death was real and helped me come to terms with her decision. It
was her decision and it was planned
, not a sudden jump but I didn't feel it until I looked at the order of service and read "In memory of Chesleigh Pafford". It was there on a piece of paper, written by someone for her memorial. It was real now.
