Eighteen
Oscar Louden was unpopular with his teachers and unpopular with his peers. He was apart from the herd, shunned and isolated. And the herd, with the feckless cruelty of youth, made no bones about making sure he knew it. Rat boy, Mouse, Tosscar – he learned to laugh at the names they called him, joining in to survive. He despised them and gradually learned to despise himself.
The bullying began with texts and Facebook messages. Later, Instagram and Snapchat. They excluded him from anything they could. Oscar, at thirteen, began feigning illness so he didn’t have to go to school. But his parents, naive and unsophisticated, stalwarts of the local church, would stand for no nonsense. His father even made sure he wore an old blazer to school. A blazer his father had worn with pride. Though a blazer was a part of the uniform, it wasn’t the exact same colour and nothing like the modern, tight-cut style that all the other boys wore. Oscar wore it like a red rag, and every day got snubbed and jeered at and told to cut his own throat so the world could be rid of ‘one more effing loser’.
His teachers knew what was happening. But they also knew that any intervention on their part might lead to an escalation. And so it continued on a slow burn, eating into Oscar’s fragile teen psyche. He felt alone, unwanted and a freak. Small for his age and a little awkward, Oscar the tosser.
Tosscar Louden.
He found places in school to hide during lunch and break. Never went anywhere near the toilets. Took sandwiches to avoid the refectory. Rainy days were the worst. Then his tormentors would hunt in packs. Seeking him out for ‘special’ attention. His only solace was the online communities of like-minded victims, and Oscar was a member of many. MindHelp was one he liked. The forums there were easy to access, and he scanned them often. Eating disorders, fashion and pop culture, gender issues – the people there all seemed to have some sort of pain, like he did. He didn’t talk to his parents about it. His was not that sort of family. He preferred to hide his shame. He had some friends, but they, like him, were weak in the face of the ferocious vindictiveness that had somehow snowballed. School was a nightmare Oscar endured. It became a game amongst his tormentors to find new ways to humiliate him.
Worse were the threats of what they might do next. They’d already ripped his clothes, stuck his head down the toilet, put ice down his shirt. Vickers, the ringleader of the boys who’d decided to make Oscar’s life hell, had posted a Facebook message with an image of someone on fire running from a burning building with the line, ‘Barbecue for hamster-boy?’
It had received 200 thumbs up likes.
The school knew some of what was going on, but there were others, his classmates, who seemed to get a sickening thrill of knowing he was a victim. That was the part he could not understand. The way people laughed at his discomfort. The way they giggled when he sometimes couldn’t stop the tears. The way some teachers looked at him when he turned up to class looking bedraggled from yet another dousing in the boy’s toilet. Where he’d hoped for sympathy, he’d found derision.
But then, when he was fourteen, he’d found The Answer Files. A site offering ways out for those at the end of their tether. It was there he’d come across the Black Squid. He’d read about it on other sites but never knew how it worked. But on The Answer Files there’d been a link to a simple questionnaire.
Do you want help to end the misery?
Does no one else care?
Play the only game that offers real answers.
Interested? Post your email here. You’ll get a message and chance to send your phone number. If accepted, the game starts immediately.
The email message asked for details of how he was feeling and why. He had no trouble answering that. In fact, he’d written an essay. He’d opened up, given of himself, said more than he had to anyone else. Three days later, when he’d believed the game was just another anonymous joke, he’d received a WhatsApp message.
Welcome, Oscar. If you enter the Black Squid’s domain, you may never leave. Make sure you understand. We know you are in pain and the Black Squid can take that pain away. It is a challenge with the ultimate prize of no more pain and no more torment if you successfully complete it. Rest assured that you are amongst friends. We understand what you are going through. We have the answers.
He’d carved the shape of the squid into his forearm and posted the image on the WhatsApp link he’d been sent. It hurt, but it had felt good, too. Like he was finally doing something about a hopeless situation. Two little ticks showed him that the Black Squid had seen it. He’d progressed through the first five days easily, given them access to his contacts and all his photos. Now he was into the real game, the twenty-challenge game.
Things were progressing well.
At last, Oscar had found a way to beat his tormentors.