Page 45

NOSTALGIA HITS EMMA hard as she looks around the newspaper office on the third floor of Foster Hall.

Along the east wall are computers with giant monitors for laying out the paper.

Three printers, two copy machines, and battered copies of the AP Stylebook and the American Heritage Dictionary line the south wall.

There’s a whiteboard for brainstorming story ideas.

And a big, dusty monstera plant that the freshmen are in charge of watering, and which consequently is always on the brink of death.

How many late nights has she spent in this room, writing her columns? She could’ve done it in her room on her laptop, but she loved being in the office, imagining her future as a journalist.

A future that will never happen.

She sits down in her old chair. Considers firing up the desktop and typing a letter to whoever gets on next. By the time you read this, I’ll be gone…

It’s so cliché that she almost laughs.

Whoever found the note would tell the story for the rest of their life. She imagines Prue Bailey, the stoner editor, collaring some poor unsuspecting ninth grader: “You know, a lot people say this room’s haunted…”

Emma abruptly stands. Enough reminiscing and fantasizing.

It’s time to make her video before Jones and Wozniak figure out where she is and batter down the door.

She pushes two desks in front of it, just in case.

She’d left Wozniak standing in the woods with a horrible decision to make—follow, and be responsible for Emma’s suicide, or not follow, and be responsible for Emma’s suicide.

Emma hopes she’ll understand, hopes Wozniak realizes that she’s not to blame—the whole world is.

She positions a chair in front of a blank white wall so no one will be able to tell where she is and props her phone on a nearby file cabinet. She shivers slightly, her wet clothes suddenly chilly in the air-conditioned building.

Quickly, she blocks everyone she thinks might try to reach her: Thomas, Jade, Olivia, Celia … Now there will be no interruptions.

Emma steels herself for a second before she opens her YouTube app and hits the camcorder icon. When she selects GO LIVE , it asks for a title. She types “Emma On Fire.”

She clicks PUBLIC . Clicks NEXT . Snaps and uploads a thumbnail photo. Selects GO LIVE again, and the picture on her iPhone goes from black and white to color. She’s broadcasting. It’s happening.

But for some reason, starting to speak feels harder than holding her arm over the Bunsen burner flame.

The seconds tick by. Ten of them, then twenty.

Emma swallows. There’s a ringing in her ears.

How is she supposed to begin? She touches her burn, and the pain brings her back. Reminds her what she’s here to say.

“Hi, guys,” Emma says. Her voice croaks. She smiles nervously. “Well, here I am. As promised.” She glances at the left side of the screen. Already there’s a chat.

Omg dont say ur really doin this.

In the upper left corner of her screen, next to the little icon of two heads, is the number six. It means only half a dozen people are watching her.

Emma blinks, and it’s twelve. Then twenty-eight. Then seventy-three.

“It’s early,” Emma says, “but there are a few of you here. Maybe you’ll text your friends and tell them to tune in. It’ll be like a watch party. The worst one you’ve ever been a part of.” She gives a half smile. “But let’s remember that it’s going to be a lot worse for me.”

438

That was fast.

679

ur so pretty don’t unalive urself

Emma can’t keep looking at the numbers. She needs to talk. She closes her eyes. Her voice needs to be steady, even if her hands are shaking.

“Irony alert: did you know social media companies know that watching stuff that pisses you off, or freaks you out, or makes you feel bad about yourself keeps you online longer, so that’s what they give you? So I guess I’m doing YouTube a favor today. Sorry.”

2543

I love you emma on fire

omg emma we were in dance class together when we were three, do you remember me?????????? sara with the sequined tutu

She tucks a strand of wet hair behind her ear. Over six thousand people are watching her now.

“You guys, I’m scared.” The sentence flies out of her mouth. She hadn’t meant to admit it. But then again, isn’t she here to be honest? To tell the truth about everything? “That’s because I’m here to burn myself alive. Just like I promised.”

u have got 2 b kidding

“And you need to understand that what I’m about to do is not a suicide. It is an act of protest. An act of despair at the state of the world, but of hope too. Because I hope and believe that by doing this, I’ll get your attention. I’ll encourage you to step up and make things better.”

Her hands are shaking even more.

10,377

where is this girl? Someone call 911

Emma I don’t know you but I don’t want you to do this!!

ing for you

16,002

thought about taking a toaster bath last nite not gunna lie—gotta get as brave as this girl and just do it

18,902

“Catastrophic climate change, which is what we’re headed for, will cause species extinction, wars, and global starvation. Endless winter, caused by a nuclear war, would be one way to end global warming, but I’m pretty sure it’s not the solution anyone wants.”

emma don’t do it

this bitch crazy

25,643

28,012

“I know some of you are going to think that this is the ranting of a crazy person. But I’m not crazy.

I’m someone who’s tired of standing around while humanity destroys itself and everything else on the planet.

” Emma takes another deep, shuddering breath.

“I hope that what I’m about to do will wake you up.

Make you take action. I hope that my death means something. Accomplishes something.”

She feels the sting of tears in her eyes. “I always wanted to be just like my older sister,” she says. “But not this time. This time I’m not going to be like Claire. I’m not going to die a lonely, meaningless death. I’m going to go out with a message and an audience.”

She reaches for the lighter, holds it in front of the camera.

“I’m going to make a difference.”