Fight Or Flight

Transcript: Session 6 - Layla Keegan

Layla Keegan - Case History

Session 6

The first six minutes or so of this session took place in complete silence. Layla entered the room clutching the notebook and held it to her chest between her folded arms. Her demeanour was still and completely closed. I decided I would wait for her to speak, but after six minutes or so, I concluded that she would probably sit in silence for the entire session if I did not initiate a conversation. Also, if she had written in her notebook again, I would need to coax her to read from it. The notebook seemed to be the best way of getting her to speak during the sessions.

Transcript:

[Silence, approximately 6 minutes]

Dr. B: Well, Layla, how are you today?

Layla: Fine.

Dr. B: School still going okay?

[No reply. Silence, approximately 20 seconds]

Dr. B: I'm glad you have bought the notebook. Did you get a chance to write?

[Silence. Note: Layla nodded]

Dr. B: Good. Would you like to share what you've written?

Layla: If you want.

Dr. B: Only if you want. I don't want to pressure you into doing something that you are not completely at ease with.

[Silence for another minute or two, then Layla undid her arms and opened the notebook]

Layla: After Kelly's death I received all kinds of messages. [Pause] At first, through Facebook, then emails and texts. The messages were very supportive and sympathetic about what had happened. "Hi, Babe. Thinking of you. Can't stop crying. Thinking of you and Kelly...Love you both." That was from Erin and over thirty people 'liked' that comment if I remember correctly. Everybody from school was broken up about what had happened. "Oh My God! Can't stop crying. My two best friends! Love you." From Ellie, a girl I knew from primary school. There were a few texts from people, basically saying the same thing: love you, thinking about you, can't believe what's happened. Shocked! How terrible! Kelly's Facebook page became a shrine. People left pictures, drawings, photos of her they had taken, lines from songs, inspirational messages. There were pictures of cute cats, sad cats, pop star look-a-like cats and other strange animals. Then a few days after, when the rumours about Kelly's death began to circulate, the messages suddenly changed. I got a text from a friend called Sophia which said: "Tell the police what you know, bitch! How can you put Kelly's parents through this. Tell the truth." Katie, another girl who had been sympathetic at first, shared posts on my timeline showing me what others were saying. One I remember said, "She's just a jealous bitch who always hated Kelly. Wouldn't be surprised if she let her drown." I posted a comment to Katie, a friend I thought, saying I couldn't believe somebody could be so hateful and vindictive. I said I loved Kelly as much, even more than anybody else. That she was my best friend, and that nobody could ever know what we went through that day. That I wouldn't wish the experience I been through on anybody. I thanked Katie for showing me how really horrible some people are. That it was a real eye-opener, how vile and nasty some people could act so soon after a such a terrible thing. [Brief pause] Then Katie replied: "She's got a point, though, hasn't she? Why won't you tell Kelly's parents what really happened? Tell the police. Why are you being such a bitch about things." I told her that I was still not well. That everything was still a blur. I wish I knew what had happened. That I could've died too. Then the stream of comments began and people started posting pictures of witches and stuff into my timeline. "Murdering bitch! You let Kelly die! Jealous bitch! Kelly was beautiful and you're an ugly fucking bitch! I hope you die! Hope you suffer a worse death than Kelly, you fucking murdering bitch. You deserve to rot in hell, you skinny fucking whore. Why did Kelly die and you live? There is no God! Die you evil, skanky bitch. Why don't you drown yourself, you fucking dyke. You're an evil fucking witch! Witch! You're a killer! Murderer!" [Brief pause] On it went. Day after day. I got an old fashioned letter too. On old fashioned paper. In big letters, in red pen. It said: KILL YOURSELF! Inside the envelope was a razor. One of those old fashioned razors. I threw it in the bin. Didn't even tell mum. The texts kept coming. I deleted my Facebook account, got a new sim card for my phone. I didn't really need it anymore because I had no friends left. I hardly dared turn on my laptop, scared that somehow - even though I wasn't on Facebook anymore - somehow the messages would still make it through to me. I think I started losing my mind. I dreamed I was back at school and being continually bullied. Had this mad dream where I was being attacked by thousands of bees, all of them stinging my face and my hands. Some of them trying to get inside my mouth. It was horrible. I stayed in my room. I felt like I couldn't go outside. I was scared that I might see somebody I knew, that they would see me and they would start abusing me to my face. Then mum said sooner or later I would have to return to school. GCSEs and all that, she said. It was important, she said. I said I couldn't face school. Said I couldn't return. I didn't. I couldn't. Not to that school. They all hated me. Hated me for something I hadn't done.