Kassi G.’s Story
September 23, 2011, was a good day, turning into a nice evening. I had come home from a conference and had prepared a nice meal for friends we had not seen in a long time. Later that evening, after my younger children had gone to bed, I settled down to do some homework when my 14 year-old daughter, Abigaille, came to me with concern in her eyes, asking to see a doctor. She pointed out some strange spots on her face that had not been there during dinner. I looked at them, unable to identify what they might be.
I did a quick search on the internet to get some ideas, and the only thing that came up was petechia, which wasn’t much help since we didn’t know what the bruising had come from in the first place. My mind immediately leapt to the worst case scenario – it was about 11:30 pm, but she was concerned, and I was concerned, so we made the drive to the hospital to get some help in determining the cause. The E.R. doctor checked Abby, looking at her for bruising anywhere else, but finding none except the small, dark purple bruises along her jawline and around her eyes. We spent the night in the E.R. covered by a thin blanket. We huddled on the hospital bed together to keep warm. It was the closest my daughter had allowed me to get to her in a long time. She didn’t normally like being hugged or touched, so it was a nice change.
In the morning, we were given the news that nothing was wrong. The blood tests that they had run had come back clear of any type of toxins that could have caused the unusual bruises to appear. We were informed that there was no other explanation, except maybe that she coughed very hard. The next few days came and went. I asked her every day if she could tell me what she thought might have happened: did she strain herself, did she choke, did she throw up or cough forcefully? All she said was no. I called the E.R. to follow-up on whether they had any other ideas. There was no new information; therefore I let it go.
On Thursday September 29, 2011, at 5:15 pm, Abby was found hanging by a purple and silver scarf in her closet. Her little sister came home from a friend’s house and was looking for her sister. I got the call while stuck in traffic on my way home from work. My daughter died shortly after, despite the efforts of the emergency medical staff. I learned later that Abby had been self-asphyxiating; she would choke herself in order to pass out and get a momentary high, then come to and go about her day. She had skipped school that day, chatted online, and “played” what I now know as “The Choking Game.” I know that she was doing this because her friend informed the police that she had confided this to him a couple of weeks before she died. We learned much too late that the small “bruises” on her face were burst capillaries from choking herself.
We, like many families, were under-informed about this activity. We didn’t know what signs to look for; I had never heard of the Choking Game, and she likely did not realize the absolute danger she was putting herself in, how it can become addictive, and then deadly. Currently, the Choking Game is underreported by the medical examiners who determine the cause of death for teens who die while participating in this activity. My daughter’s death certificate states “suicide,” but she did not purposely take her life. Abby’s death has devastated our family and all who knew her. We will never be the same. We always have this emptiness inside where she is supposed to be. I can’t imagine that she would want her sister to find her that way… Abby had always been very protective of her siblings. I wish I would have been able to protect her when I was given the chance.