When Isaac didn’t come down for dinner, his mum Lisa suddenly had the feeling something was very wrong…
Bounding into my room early one morning, my son Isaac, six, jumped onto mine and his dad Mark’s bed to tell us what we’d christened his ‘random fact of the day’.
‘Did you know the hottest chilli in the world is called the Caroline Reaper?’ he said, excitedly.
‘How do you know that?’ I laughed.
From an early age Isaac was curious about the world. He was also sweet and affectionate.
Getting ready for work, he’d stand behind me and say, ‘I love you, Mummy’.
‘Love you too, Squirrel,’ I’d reply.
That was his nickname as he loved saving and would squirrel his pocket money away!
When Isaac started secondary school at 11, we agreed to give him a mobile phone.
He’d been asking for months and, as we’d done with his older sister Emily, we made sure he knew the rules.
‘No phone before school, after 8pm or at dinner,’ I said.
‘And if you’re approached by a stranger online, please tell us,’ Mark added.
At the time, TikTok was mainly videos of silly dance routines and the ice bucket challenge, so we weren’t too concerned about him having an account.
Plus, Isaac rarely used the social media platform, preferring to play online games with pals.
A couple of years passed and one afternoon, I’d gone to pick Isaac, 13, and Emily up from school.
As I arrived, I saw them both running to the car, laughing.
They had a little game where the first one to reach the car would get to sit in the front.
‘I won!’ Emily said, jumping into the passenger seat.
For the rest of the journey, there was a bit of good-natured teasing between them.
Isaac was always hungry, so when we got home, he made a beeline for the kitchen snack cupboard and grabbed a handful of Doritos.
‘No more, as dinner will be ready in half an hour,’ I said.
At around 5.30pm, I called for him, but there was no answer.
It wasn’t too strange as he’d sometimes be distracted by a game and also liked to play pranks.
'Isaac, stop messing around'
But when I called him a third time and expected to hear him sprinting downstairs, there was no sign of him.
Something’s not right, I thought.
Going upstairs, I checked his room, but he wasn’t there.
Heading for the bathroom, the door was locked.
I knocked on it, but there was no response.
‘Isaac, top messing about,’ I said. ‘Dinner’s ready.’
When there was no answer then, I grew really concerned.
Running downstairs to the garage, I grabbed a hammer, ran back up and banged on the lock.
As the door opened, my stomach lurched.
My boy had a ligature round his neck.
‘Isaac!’ I cried.
For a split-second, I thought he might have taken his life.
But I dismissed it instantly.
He was happy, had close friends, a loving family and was making plans.
‘He’s not breathing,’ I said to Emily.
She called emergency services and relayed their instructions so I could do CPR.
It felt like I was floating out of my body and looking down on a nightmare.
Within minutes, two ambulances and the air ambulance arrived.
‘We need to get him to hospital,’ the paramedics said, as they worked on him.
Mark was away looking after his mum, so a friend took Emily to her place, while the police drove me to hospital.
I was numb and in shock.
At the hospital, doctors told me Isaac had suffered three cardiac arrests and a CT scan showed he had brain damage due a lack of oxygen to the brain.
‘Will he be OK?’ I asked.
‘We’re doing everything we can,’ the doctor said.
When Mark arrived, he looked shaken and we collapsed in each other’s arms.
After three hours and no improvement, Isaac was transferred to a specialist children’s hospital.
We arrived at 1.30am and Isaac was taken to a paediatric intensive care, where the team worked on him continuously.
Eventually, doctors came to talk to us.
‘It’s not looking good,’ the consultant said, explaining that his organs were shutting down.
They’d tried everything, including giving him several shots of adrenaline to try to restart his heart.
We called our close family and gathered around Isaac, knowing the end was near.
Less than two hours later, Isaac suffered organ failure.
‘He can’t fight any more,’ a doctor said.
We were allowed to stay with him to say our goodbyes.
Emily, Mark and I lay with Isaac on the bed.
What on earth happened? I thought, devastated.
I couldn’t sleep or eat, and could just about manage to breathe.
'We've found something on his phone'
The hospital had a charity, Cosmic, which were fantastic and provided us with ongoing support. We were so grateful.
Next day, I went to visit Isaac in the chapel of rest.
I bounced between feelings of despair and anger, wondering what Isaac had been doing that had resulted in his death.
‘I promise I’ll look after Emily, fight for answers and you’ll always be with me,’ I said, stroking his hair.
Leaving the hospital without him was awful and surreal.
Not hearing his giggle or the sound of him running downstairs was just heartbreaking.
While still deep in shock, we held his funeral.
His friends gave a touching speech and a song sung by his grandad was played.
Meanwhile, the police had seized my son’s phone and other devices.
A couple of months later, an officer contacted us.
‘We’ve found something on Isaac’s phone,’ they said.
What they told us sent shockwaves through us.
Isaac had videoed himself completing a “blackout challenge” in which a person intentionally deprived themselves of oxygen.
Had someone online done the challenge, told Isaac about it and he’d given it a go? I wondered.
Researching, I discovered young people often filmed themselves doing the “challenge” for TikTok.
Determined to do something, I started researching content on the platform.
And what I found appalled me.
But when I reported the shocking videos, just minutes later, I received a message to say there’d been no violation of their rules.
‘It’s clearly not human beings looking at reported content, it’s bots,’ I said to Mark.
I joined a support group for parents who believed social media had played a part in their child’s death and started talking to Hollie, whose son Archie had died aged 12 after a long hospital battle, and Hollie believed his death was linked to him taking part in a viral challenge on TikTok.
We bonded over what had happened to our sons and knew we had to do something to protect other children and families.
At a meeting in London, I sat next to the the head of Internet Matters, a non-profit group working to keep children safe online.
She’d heard about Isaac and helped Hollie and I get a powerful film we’d made about our children into schools to talk to parents about the dangers of online dares as part of our campaign, Be Challenge Aware.
In time, Isaac’s inquest returned a verdict of misadventure.
Since then, we’ve attended parliament and campaigned to get the Online Safety Act passed.
We also had the honour of meeting the Duke and Duchess of Sussex in New York, who were visibly moved by Isaac’s story and wanted change.
Recently, we filed an unlawful death lawsuit against TikTok along with the parents of three teenagers who believe they lost their lives taking part in viral challenges.
It’ll be a long road, but we’ll keep going until we get accountability.
I’d encourage parents to take an interest in what their child is watching online and make the ground rules together, so they feel like they’re in control, too.
Also, hold off giving your child a phone loaded with social media for as long as possible.
Isaac was a loving, beautiful boy and we miss him terribly.
But when I go into schools, I can feel him with me, spurring me on.
I’ll keep fighting for him.
Lisa Kenevan, 52, Basildon, Essex
A spokesperson for TikTok said: ‘TikTok strictly prohibits dangerous challenge content. We proactively detect and remove 99% of such content before it's reported, block harmful search terms and direct users to our Online Challenges Safety Centre for expert-backed guidance.’
For more information on staying safe online, visit: internetmatters.org