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A Story by emilynicole

This is a short story (2000-3000 words) that I had to write for English.

I don’t know what got me here… I don’t know why I’m here, I don’t know who brought me… the last thing I remember is saying goodbye world. Throwing those 40 pills into my mouth, not knowing what the hell would happen… I know that I was sorry, that I wasn’t what you wanted me to be… I just wasn’t worth your time. But before that, I remember crying… The tears rolled down my face like a waterfall. A steady stream of water came down from my eyes…. I remember those salty tears hitting the scars on my wrist… Me thinking “What have I done?” Saying to myself, “Why was I a part of this world? What is my purpose on earth?” Remembering the sad fact that I don’t have a purpose……

Fast forward to stomach pumping. It never was supposed to be this way. I wasn’t supposed to be here…. They weren’t supposed to find me. I was supposed to be long gone….. Where are they, anyways? Where did they go? They have to be here if I am… But where…? I don’t know…. I’ll never know… Did they forget me? Am I here all alone? The nurse comes in to ask me a question about how Im feeling… I feel like s**t. I don’t want to be here… I want to be at home… Or in hell, where I belong… I want to not exist. I want to feel that adrenaline rush right before those pills go into my mouth and down with a swig of water. I want to be back at home, crying. People think crying is bad or whatever, I love crying. I mean, its not anything, but I think its good…. Its the only way I ever get to express my emotions… Other than that, no one else knows what the hell is going on with me… Not a single person… If they knew, they would never do anything, anyways…

Fast forward to admission….

“Here’s what you can have and what you can’t… If you violate these rules, you will be kept here for longer.”

I think to myself, ‘I’ve heard this so many times… Lady, do you think this is my first time being in a place like this? I’ve been in and out of these stupid places for 5 years… I know what I’m doing.. But I don’t say it…. I can’t…. If I say what I want, there’s a damn good chance I’ll be stuck here way longer than 6 months…

Fast forward to the next day…. What happened to me? Why do I feel like this…? Why am I in this white room…? Wheres my colorful bedspread? Wheres my razors? My cell phone? Where are my parents? Why am I here? What happened? I don’t remember anything… I don’t know what happened…. Why is this chick telling me to wake up? WHY IS SHE WEARING SCRUBS?! WHERE THE HELL AM I!? Oh my god, I don’t know what’s going on…. I need to know whats happening… Where I’m going… Why is there someone else in my room!? Why is my bed nailed down….? Why is this happening? What did I do? I cant remember anything…

Fast forward to the afternoon… Sitting in a plain room thinking to myself this shouldn’t have happened…. It wasn’t supposed to be this way… Isn’t that what everyone who ends up like this says? I guess… I dunno… I give up. I’m so done with this…. I gave up and now I’m here…. Again…. I miss my iPod… I miss my music… oh crap they’re coming to talk to me…. I already know what they’re going to ask me… What expressions will be on their faces…. How they will just nod and look at me expressionless… feeling sorry for me, telling me that it will be okay… but it wont…. It never will be… It never has… Trust me, I’ve been waiting for it to be okay for the past 4 years. But it hasn’t gotten better… If anything, it’s gotten worse… No one knows the pain I’m in… Supposedly, they all think that they can relate.. But can they really? Have they been trying over and over to take their own lives for the past four years? If hey have, then you can come tell me that it’ll be okay… Until then, leave me alone.

But what could possibly happen that could lead me to feel the need to kill myself, you may ask? It was on March 12th, 2012. If you looked at me in the hallway that day, I would have looked like your average teenager… Like everyone else at my school, I kept to myself… I was an outcast. No one knew who I was. No one cared. I knew a few people, mostly the stoners and geeks, but other than that, I walked alone with my head down… Praying that no one would talk to me… Dragging the sandbags that I called my feet down the halls… Getting to class on time as to not draw attention to myself… I sit in the front of the room in my biology class… Not exactly sure why, but I guess that’s none of my business, just like most things… I watch the clock everyday the last three minutes and forty-two seconds just to make sure I can get the hell out of there as soon as that bell rings. By the fifth time it rings, I’m already halfway across the school on my way to meet Teressa, whom I get a ride home with a lot… But today, we’re not going home… We’re going to his house… She likes him because he’s twenty-one which means he can buy us cigarettes and vodka. Sometimes, we go over and hang out with him and get really drunk.. It takes my mind off of things for a bit… But this time, things are different…

Teressa has to be home in an hour but I told my parents I’m going to her house. They never suspect anything because my mom trusts her parents… He said he’d give me a ride to marching band later on tonight if I want…. I don’t want to go home, so I accept. He’s kind of cute, I guess… Except for that little detail that starts with p and ends in -enis…. I’m not into that kind of thing… Most people would call me a lesbian, but I’m not one for labels but anyways… So after Teressa goes home, I stay with him and we flirt and kiss… Maybe do a couple things that my mom would kill me if she ever found out about…. But I’ll spare you the details. Then he takes me back to the school.

I do the whole marching band thing. I play trumpet, I’m one of the very few female trumpet players. It’s pretty great! I text him when it’s all over, he only lives a few minutes away and doesn’t mind giving me rides. I text my mom to tell her that our band director, Mr. Sherman, is lecturing us about our posture and what attention looks like and she says that it’s fine as long as I’m home by nine…. I look at the time on my phone, 8:43 p.m., we have time… He says he wants to stop at his house really fast to grab something.. I’m fine with it, he’s giving me a ride home, anyways… We park his white truck in front of his house and go into the garage where his bedroom is… He sleeps on a futon. His family isn’t exactly what you would call rich, but they’re not poor, either. He sits down on the futon and pats beside him, implying he wants me to sit.

The next part is the worst… He won’t let me leave. He pushes me down onto the couch, making it almost impossible to breathe. He stands up and I hear some shuffling around… I can’t see anything, though, it’s dark and no one else is home so screaming wouldn’t do me any good, plus, if I want any more vodka, I’d better just do this and get it over with. I hate him, though. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way. Then he’s on top of me again, struggling to get my pants off, fingers fumbling to take off my belt… His breath echoes in my ear, the sharp intake of air when I try to tell him no, reminding him that this won’t happen again if I’m not home in 2 minutes…

He feels around in the dark, trying to find his black basketball shorts he had on before this all happened… He gets back in the truck and we drive the 6 blocks back to my house in silence. He pulls over next to my house, making sure none of my family can see him drop me off. Before I leave, he pulls me in for one last embrace, caressing my face ever so gently with his silky hands, whispering that he’ll see me again soon. Practically running to my room when I get inside my house, trying to hold back the steam of tears that comes with every step, I collapse on my bed. Frantically texting my best friend trying to explain what happened.. My mom wants to talk with me, but I’ll push her away again, saying I’m fine that I just need to be alone..

My razor is my only true friend. It’s always there for me, but no one understands that. After I cry for 2 hours, I remember that I have my razor. I take it out of my wallet in its little pocket.. Dragging it across my skin once again, feeling the relief seep out from my veins…. The salty ocean that came from my eyes as I pressed the blade to my skin as hard as I ever have not caring if I got it on my sheets, if I sliced too deep, I wouldn’t mind. I just needed to get out of my head… Out of my head and into the real world….

I get up the next day as if everything is fine. But everything is not fine, it’s far from fine, but if you looked at me, I’d look like I normally do. Nothing would seem to be wrong with me, but that’s simply on the outside… If you saw my insides, you would start clicking your tongue, seeing the pain I was in would make you want to try to help, but you couldn’t help. It has gotten too bad for anyone to help me…. I guess that’s just life, though… I’ll continue on with my day, it’s now a Thursday. I have first, third and fifth period today… Which means english, band, and geometry… I like these days, they’re all my easy classes, not that you care… No one cares…. I guess it’s a sad fact I’ve learned to accept. Nothing big happened on that rainy Thursday, so I kept on walking… Head down, headphones in, not looking at anyone at all…

I walked the mile home from my bus stop… Walked right past his house… Well, I didn’t walk, I ran like hell…. The wave of emotion that overcame me when I walked up the hill to my house, past the elementary school, past the stop sign, almost to my house, but I crumbled. I fell like a sand castle on a beach on a rainy day… Collapsing to the ground in a mound of emotion and feelings… Not knowing what to do, having to try to work up the strength to carry myself the three blocks it would be until I reached my front door… It took all that I had in me to lift myself off of that hot, hard concrete and drag my body up the hill, trudging along, feeling like I was walking through mud, the kind that absorbed into your clothes and then crusted on like glue… But it was then, that I thought to myself, “I’m done, I can’t do this anymore…”

So I guess that’s how I ended up here, that’s how I ended up alone, crying, with no one around to care…. Helpless……