Edge Of The Flame

A young man, who had just lost his dad last week, goes to the church camp that his father and him frequented. His depression gets worse. All he wants is to die, but a pesky youth pastor won't let him.

Edge Of The Flame

Just go away and let me be! I’m better off dead anyways! Please let me just die! It was the second day of camp and we had just left for breakfast, when I started feeling down again. I’ve been having suicidal thoughts and my depression is at a solid nine out of ten. To think, it’s been a week already since my dad died on the table during his spinal surgery. My left arm was full of pink stripes from the razors, and I can’t stop thinking of adding more. After all, you don’t focus on a lot of other things when there’s blood coming out of you. I thought that coming back to this church camp would help me feel better and help my depression, but it’s not. My dad brought me here every year since I was two years old. Today is Tuesday and my group is supposed to go tubing for our big activity. Tubing was my dad and I’s favorite activity. After eating, we went to the Tabernacle to do our morning worship, and there was a well known face there, Bryce was standing at the front of the room. He and my dad were best friends. He was going to be preaching to us today and I was actually a tiny bit excited. About halfway through, I could feel myself falling lower and lower into the lightless abyss that is my depression. The songs that they were playing were making me worse, so I stepped outside the door for some air.

When I went outside, I turned around and there was my male counselor, Will. I started to lose my bearings and I was even light headed. I didn’t want him to be out here because I just wanted to be alone. However, he wouldn’t just let me be and he was trying to calm me down and get me back inside, so I did. After morning service, we had our main activity and I was feeling slightly better. We got our bathing suits on, got what we needed, and went down to the docks. Our group was then divided into boats and my boat had the tube where we sit up with a partner next to you. I went out about six times and each time was great. I was truthfully smiling for the first time in about two weeks. On my seventh time out on the tube, we had a bet going that I could stay on longer than the co counselor Will. So, Will took one side and I went to the other and we took off. The boat was going full speed, making crazy turns, and we were almost falling off the whole time while Will and I were laughing our heads off.

Then, the boat does an even tighter turn, hits a higher wake, and we go flying into the air! I couldn’t tell if Will was still on or not, so I just held on, even though mother nature was trying her best to push me off. I finally went to let go of the handles and my hand got caught in the handle. My body flew backwards, but my hand was still on the handle. The next thing I knew, I was being pulled out of the water by my life jacket. I must have passed out of something because there’s a gap missing in my memory. When I got my bearings, I realized that it was Will pulling me out of the water. My heart was racing and my whole right arm was throbbing, and I didn’t know why. I couldn’t even look around because I was placed into a neck brace and the medical boat was docking. I was placed flat on the floor of the boat and I had two guys in some kind of medical swim uniform thing hovering over me. They were checking me out and I felt like I was going to pass out again. Before I passed out again, I was able to lift my head just enough to see that I had a gash in my arm and my whole arm was purple due to dislocation. My arm was covered in deep, warm, red blood. Before I passed out, I could see the panicked look on the medics faces and then everything went dark.

When I woke up again, we were docking the boat and there was a helicopter there waiting for us. They met us at the boat with a gurney and a bunch of equipment. They hooked me up to a few monitors and put a ton of gauze on my arm. They strapped me in and one was telling me that they were going to make me fall asleep with this milky looking substance in a syringe. It took me a second to realize that it was propofol, the medication my dad had a reaction with just last week and I began to panic. One medic started placing the oxygen mask that's infused with a special gas to put people under easier. I broke through the restraints and spazzed out. They were persistent with trying to force me under, but I ripped my IV out of my arm and sat up. They were now all grabbing me, trying to keep me still while one was off to the side. He was filling a syringe with a different substance and I began fighting more. Right when I went to break free, I felt a sharp point jam into my neck. Goosebumps immediately formed all over my body and right away I could tell this was not good for me. My legs gave out and soon the rest of my muscles weakened. They picked me up, put me back on the gurney, and put the mask over my face again. I could barely even blink at this point, let alone fight my way out of this. My head was getting foggy and I could barely hold my eyes open, and a minute later, even that was impossible. When I woke up this time, we were entering some kind of hospital.

I was restrained to the point where all I could do was look straight up at the ceiling. As they rolled me down the hall, I tried counting the ceiling tiles, but they figured that out and put a mask over my eyes. When the gurney stopped, we were in a room that looked like a fortress. They rolled me into the center of the room and lifted me onto a hospital bed. The drugs were finally running out of my system and I could move around some. When they put me into the other bed, I pretended to still not be able to move. When they left the room, I carefully got up and began to look for a way out. I was panicking, unsure of what was happening. I just wanted to die by myself.

As my head began to clear up,  I heard the door open. In walked a man in his early thirties, with short red hair and pale white skin. I called out in confusion, “What are you doing here?” He replied, “I’m here for you. I knew that voice. It was Chris, the youth pastor from where I’m from. The thing about youth pastors, or at least Chris, is that he would do almost anything to protect life, even if all you want to do is die. He walked up to me and sat in the chair next to me. He sat there, silent, as if he was coming up with a strategy. I knew he wasn’t going to let me have my way, so I played his game. He then began talking. “Hey, how are you doing?” I told him that I wanted to go back to camp. He told me that he could work on that. He then asked why I was so upset this morning. He already knew why, but he wanted me to say it to him. I told him that I was just upset and I missed my dad. He told me that I hit my head on something hard when I fell off the tube and it was making me irrational. I told him that I didn't remember anything and he believed it. Then, another man, a doctor, came in. Chris asked him if I could go back with him to camp, and the doctor whispered something in his ear. Chris looked confused and maybe slightly curious and told me that the doctor was here to give me my last round of antibiotics for my arm. It turns out that my shoulder was just dislocated and I had the gash in my arm. The doctor approached me and injected something into my IV port, told me to lay back in the bed, and walked out of the room.

I must have went unconscious again because I woke up and I was wearing my own clothes and Chris was waiting for me. He looked over at me and smiled. “He said you are clear to come back with me, but I have to keep an eye on you.” I just nodded and got up. We drove back to camp, but it was thursday morning and it was the last full day left. I was trying to hide my emotions from Chris. When we pulled in, I told him I was going to the girls’ dorm to check in with Elise, my camp counselor. When I got in, I went to my bunk and grabbed my backpack. I pulled out a razor blade and pulled my blanket over me. I put the blade to my arm and ran it, sharp edge to skin, across my arm, in stripes. I could see the dark red blood pool on the surface of my arm and I just started to break down again. Then, Elise came over. She asked me how I was doing, so I just said alright and she bought it. She told me that it was almost time for service, so I should get ready. I said okay and pulled a sweatshirt out of my suitcase and put it on, concealing the cuts. She walked away and I took a deep breath. I got ready to go to service and I slipped the blade in my pocket and left.

We were all back at the tabernacle again. Bryce was back at the podium in the front of the room. When everyone settled, he began. The whole time he was talking and the music was playing, I could feel myself sinking again, only this time, I couldn’t be saved. I made it almost halfway through this time, but it became unbearable again. I got up and walked outside for some air and soon after, Will and Chris came out. My heart was pounding so hard it felt like a hammer was being slammed against my chest. I told them I was fine and that I would be back in in just a minute, but neither of them moved. I looked down at my sweatshirt that was covering up my cuts and it was soaked with blood. I started crying and looked back up. Chris and Will were both looking at me. Will started taking his phone out and Chris looked like he was about to do something, so I turned and started walking. I turned my head back to see if they were following me, and sure enough, Chris was coming towards me. I knew that he wouldn’t let me just die, here, in peace, so I took off in a desperate sprint. I ran back towards the dorm and grabbed just my backpack. I then slipped out the back door and ran towards the water.

I sat down on the dock and just breathed and stared at the water. After about ten minutes, I heard sirens really close by. I started to panic again, so I ran towards the woods’ edge where we have our bonfires. I could hear police officers getting closer so I hid in some brush. Not long after diving into the brush, a single police officer came right up to where I was hiding and stopped. He must not have seen me. He turned his back to where I was and that’s when I made my move. I silently and swiftly grabbed his gun, un holstered it and held it in my hands. He turned around and I demanded him to give me his duty belt and to lay on the ground. I took his handcuffs and cuffed his hands behind his back to a tree and took his radio too. I then continued to the fire area. I took the taser and gun and stuck them in my belt and set my backpack down. This was the spot. The final spot. My final spot. From here, I could see the sparkling blue lake and the white sand beach. There were fields of bright green luscious grass and thick woods of oak and pine. This was a truly beautiful spot. I pulled out the razor and held it to my wrist. This was it. I’ve been ready for this moment for far too long. It was my time.

As I made the first cut, I heard a twig snap. I immediately pulled the gun out of my belt and turned around. It was Chris. I started to lower the gun, but then decided not to. He started telling me to put the gun down. That everything was going to be okay. I told him to stay back, that he was welcomed to stay if he wanted to, but he had to keep his distance. He sat down on the ground about twelve feet from me. I picked the razor back up and made an even deeper cut on my wrist. I could tell that it had at least cut a vein. I pulled a bottle of whisky out of my backpack and drank half of it. I then moved to cut again and this time I was surrounded by police officers. I threw the gun aside and rapidly cut four more slashes into myself. Warm, thick blood started spewing out like a garden sprinkler. I picked up the whisky and drank the rest of it. Chris ran up to me, he put his hands over the wounds and he was trying to get the blood to stop. He then started praying. I told him I needed to go now and that it was my time, but he just scooped me up into his arms and held me. I told him to go that he didn’t need to be here and he refused. The police were trying to direct the medics back here, but they kept getting stuck in the brush.

I looked up at him. His bright red hair, easily sun burnt pale skin and his amazing reassuring smile. Then I looked at the sky. It was the prettiest blue I had ever known. There wasn’t a single cloud and the sun was ever shining. My vision began to blur and I was about to pass out. Everything went white and then nothing.I heard Chris. He was praying and sobbing at the same time. I could then hear two more voices, belonging to the paramedics, I’m guessing. They were trying as hard as they could to bring me back. However, I didn’t want to. I just wanted to end my life. I couldn’t even open my eyes. I could hear a helicopter and it sounded like they were putting me in it. I then completely blacked out. I then saw something I could not believe. Everything was bright and there was a lot of white around me to one side and nothing but fire and darkness to the other. I was on the edge of a wall of flame, closer to the dark, fiery side than I was to the bright, white side. Then, there was a flash of light and the dark, fiery side was gone. I was wearing white pants and a white shirt. I had no clue where I was at. There was this sense of peace, love and happiness. Then I saw them. My eyes instantly swelled with tears. There, standing before me, was my dad and grandparents. I missed them all so bad! I ran to them and jumped in my dad’s arms. I then wrapped my arms around my grandma and grandpa and I just closed my eyes.

The reunion was short because the next thing I knew, I was standing in some kind of house or temple or something, equally as bright as outside. There was a chair perched on  what looked similar to the camp stage behind the alter. I wasn’t really religious, I was just at camp with my best friend. I approached the chair. It startled me when I saw a man sitting there. He asked me if I knew who he was, and at first I didn’t. Then I realized where I was, Heaven.

Author's Note

ignore grammar problems