Quote...

~Keep holding on to the one you love. For, one day they will leave and you will leave and you will be lost.

You can cry, you can beg for them back, but they can't come back, cause they'er gone~

-Sonia Ferguson

Deaths

Suicide, yeah I've thought about it and I've tried to. I failed. Somehow I knew the next time, some way some way some how, was gonna be different. All my friends call me psycho, but I don't think of them like that. In fact, I'm not psychotic, I have a disorder. I have PTSD, post stress disorder.

The phone rings. I rush to get it. Wait where is my damn phone anyway? It continues to ring. I look near the outlet because I thought it was on the charger. Nope. I suddenly realize it stopped ringing. It makes a beep telling me that I have a missed call. I see a light on my bed. I dig in the blankets. Ah ha, there it is.

 ONE MISSED CALL, it reads. Oh, well that's weird; I never get a call from Tiffany, my friend's mom. I dial her number and wait for her to answer.

"Ethen?" she says. "Um, oh my goodness,"

"Yeah," I say. "So um you called, whatcha need?"

"Ethen, I don't want you to have more stress on your shoulders, but you really need to get to the hospital. A. S. A. P." Tiffany demands.

"Why?" I say. "What happened? Oh crap, was it another stick in the gut?" I get my jacket on. I don't live far from the hospital just five minutes away.

"Shut the hell up," she says, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. "And no, it's not the stick again. He, well you should- on your way here- think of what you're gonna say. He's on life support, and they are gonna take him off in an hour." She takes a deep breath. "He..." she starts. "Well, suicide."

My body goes still and my eyes grow wide. No. Not him. I can't lose him now. No I'm not going to the hospital if he's gone, I'm gone too."I'm sorry, Tiff, but if he's gone I'm gone too." I say. "Goodbye."

I hang up the phone and hurry to my closet. I pull out a box full of razos. I pull up my sleeves then I decide to take the whole damn jacket off. I trace the scars on my wrists. I promised my girlfriend I wouldn't cut. "Sorry babe, the promise has been-" I slit my arm "-broken." I say aloud.

One cut. Two cuts, three, then four. Ouch, ah pain feels good. I continue to cut as I randomly stop. I'm really dizzy. I get my phone and I text my girlfriend: I love you. And I'll love you forever. Please know that, okay? I'll send you a letter from heaven. I'll send you a dream, as well.

I start again. Pain, I guess it hurts. Oh god. I suddenly fall to the ground. I need to cut harder. I get my knife out and cut really hard this time, and it hits bone, or what I think is bone. I pull the blade from my arm and blood squirts my face, some of it gets in my eyes. I see veins, blue and red. I go to the other wrist. I cut as hard as the other one and I feel something hard again. I start cutting and cutting and I stop counting at thirty. I fall to the ground. Blood spills from my veins to the floor. Everything goes blurry and I try to move but I can't move a muscle. Tears rush down my face.

And like that, everything is black.

I see a light and I chase it. What the hell? It's not a light, it's... my funeral. My two friends and my girlfriend- well I don't know, since I'm dead, if you count that as still dating- are there. They're crying, oh my goodness. No. I see, on my girlfriend's wrists, scabs and my name scratched on her wrist. The scene changes from the funeral to my room. I see my friend, Trevor. There are blood stains on the carpet; my phone is still where I left it. I look at the door and there is a sign that says, 'Memorial of Ethen Michael' and it has a picture of me at my birthday party two weeks ago with my girlfriend photobombing the picture.

My eyes suddenly are forced to look at my friend. Huh, that's weird. He takes his hoodie off, showing a lot of scars on one of his wrist, and not-so-old scabs on the other. He never told me that he cut. It's like I'm there but he can't see me. I am suddenly not able to move or blink. I don't know how but it's like my eye's zoomed in on his wrist. Something catches my eyes. I look at his arm. "Why is my name on his arm?" I yell; frustrated because of not knowing.

I reach out and then I realize I can't get to him. I am so close it feels so real but I know I can't. He starts talking.

"You told me to be strong," he says. A tear rolls down his face. He never cries. "You told me that nothing can bring me down! You promised me that you would never leave me! You promised me you would be there for me! You promised you were the one to turn to if something was wrong so I always did! What can't I do now? You're gone!" he cries. He screams as more tears roll down his face. "Why did you leave us? You were loved here, I could have helped you! Now there is no one to help me!" He breathes loudly and fast as he tries calming himself down. "I never got to tell you, I cut. I have been for about three months now."

"I'm so sorry," I say. My mouth is forced to close. Maybe I am a spirit; maybe I can try to stop him. I try to move but I freeze. No, no, no, no! I need to get stop him. I start breathing really fast until I realize there is nothing coming in or out. There is no real reason to breathe if I am dead.

He takes out a gun. "You have talked me out of suicide three times without even knowing it. Now you can't so I guess this is it. I will be with you soon." He smiles like a lunatic and a tear rolls down his face. "IF YOU DIE THEN I DIE WITH YOU!" he yells at the top of his lungs. He puts the gun to his temple, grabs a picture of me and a note then takes a deep breath. He fires the gun.

No! I need him, I think to myself. I feel the tension in my body release me. I go to grab him and, poof. He's gone. I see another light and I run to it. It's someone's house. Next to it is Trevor. I squat down to him; I tap his face then realize that there is a bullet in his head from where he shot. If he's dead, and I am too, why is he not moving? The cuts on my wrists have disappeared and I haven't even noticed. My body suddenly stands up and my eyes are forced to look.

All I see is a girl crying. She groans. I immediately know who it is. It's Kaylee, my girlfriend. I can't even recognize her, she is so much skinnier, her wrists have scars and her eyes are pouring.

She is holding a picture of me and her. It was when we first met, I am shoving chocolate in her mouth and she is laughing. Next to it is a picture of us kissing. A tear rolls her nose. She cries out. Trying to calm down, she takes deep breaths. She starts shaking and she rocks back and forth. She sighs. She goes to her closet, opens it, and grabs a box. Inside of the box is about 20 kinds of sharp things; knives, razors, arrows, glass, broken plastic, broken metal, etc.

No, I can't watch this. I close my eyes and they are forced open. She grabs a knife and put it to her arm. I run to her. Nothing happened, I wasn't forced to stop. I am so close to her, our noses almost touch. I look at her. She doesn't see me. She looks at her arm then puts the knife to it. I grab her arm and she looks to the star on her the wall of her bedroom. I gave that to her on her birthday. I had the other one in my room. We were going through a hard time we would look at it knowing that we were there for each other.

She takes the knife away from her arm and throws it at it. It hits the wall about a half an inch away from it. A tear rolls down my face. She takes another knife and throws it at the star for another try. It hits the star in the middle. More tears come. I can't take this. I love her. I left her. It hurts for just a second then I forget about it.

She puts the box of sharps things on her lap and takes another knife out and looks at her wrists. I put my hands on the knife. I look at her eyes, they look at the knife. She looks up, she can't see me. I look into her eyes. They are so blue, so deep, like the ocean. It feels like I can see into her soul. It was once so warm, filled with happiness; now it's so cold, filled with depression.

I love her with all my heart. And I left her there, to suffer. This isn't right.

She looks into my eyes; without knowing it. I move my hands down and hers go with she drops the knife into the box. She closes it the box, then grabs it. She looks at it for five seconds, thinking to herself. She lifts it up and throws it across the room. She sits there, shaking. I see her lips quiver. Her head falls to her hands; sobbing. I put my hand on her chin. She lifts her head up. I move my face next to her; so close, our noses are touching. I close my eyes, lean in and kiss her. I pull away-opening my eyes. She, and everything, else fades away. I try grasping onto everything that just happened.

I see another light. I stare at it for a little; afraid to go. I walk to it, wondering what it's gonna be this time.

 

Run From Hell

I stumble upon a table and four chairs. The table is made of bones, the chairs as well. I see a stack of files on the table. I get closer to the table and take the first paper off the top. My eyes find a name and a picture. Trevor Scott. I read on.

Age: 16. Date of birth: June 27, 1998. Date of death: September 16, 2014. Cause of death: suicide due to friend's recent death: Ethan Michael.

I stop reading and put the paper down. Something catches my eyes. My file. I grab it. I read it aloud.

"Ethan Michael. Date of birth: October 27, 1997. Date of death: September 9, 2014. Cause of death: suicide due to depression and thought of friends recent death; Jacob Canvor, who never-" my eyes grow wide, "-really died."

What. I shake head. "No," I yell. He was on life support, he's supposed to be dead. I start crying; making noises I've never heard. I hear a noise that's not coming from me. I whip my head around and I see a tall, man with no hair. He has tattoos on his arms, neck, head and legs. He walks up to me acting like I'm welcome.

"Ethen Michael," he says. "It's about time you found us." He looks me in the eyes.

"Us?" I say. "What do you mean us? There's only you,"

Two people behind me clear their throats. I jerk my head and see a man and a woman. The man is tall with tattoos from head to toe. He has a smirk on his face. He makes me uncomfortable. The woman is short, she has three tattoos that stick out; one on her wrist of cuts that are covering scars, one on her thighs of cuts, yet again, covering scars, and the third one, on her face, on her forehead she has broken devil horns connected to stars that are on her temples and those are connected to swirls of blood that go to her cheeks, to her nose, and to her chin.

I look at them for a little taking in all I see. I turn away. I find myself sitting down and I stand back up. The bald man. Nods his head at the chair. I shake my head.

"I'm fine," I say.

He shakes his head. "No," he says with a fierce look on his face. "You're gonna sit." He points at me and I am forced to sit down. What the hell is he. I try to get up but I can't; something is forcing me to stay put.

I look the bald man in the eyes. "What do you want?" I ask annoyed. I turn my head and see the other two smirking. the girl speaks up. "What did you want when you killed yourself?" she asks bluntly. The question shocks me. I just sit there and stare until someone raises their voice.

"If you're not gonna listen I'm just gonna show you true pain!" the tall man says. I know what true pain is! I'm just gonna get out of here and leave them to their business. The girl turns to me. "No you don't, and no you won't. You're gonna stay here because you can't leave." I look at them. How does she know what I'm thinking? What is this? Why can't I just hit them? something is helping me keep my calm.

"You're dead, you can't leave this place, its a part of you. Try leaving and you will be right back here." she says. I don't wanna be near them. I don't like the vibe they are giving me. The girl whispers something to the tall man. He gives me. He looks at the girl. "Envy, does it look like we want to be near him?" he says. "Why, no, I don't think so, Javon." She looks at me and smirks.

"We don't want to be near you, but we have to." he says. "We are supposed to show you what the true price price of suicide is." I look at them like they're stupid. I know what the true price is. Envy looks at me. "The true price is not just your life." she says.

"Yes it is," I say. If it's not, then what is it? Envy looks at me again. "No, the true price is much more than that. If you can't see that, then you need to be shown." I look at her. "No," I say. And in an instant I am in a different room.

What? How did I get here? I look around, all I see is darkness. In the corner of my eyes, I see movement. I turn and I am outside. I instantly know where I am. The there's the tree we carved our name on, I turn my head, there's the rock we used to sit on. I look down, here's the path we used to walk on.

I hear quiet weeping. I turn my head and see nothing. My eyes search to find where the noise is coming from. It gets louder, and louder and louder till I finally find the source. Kaylee. Not again, I hate to see her pain. Her eyes are flooded with tears and her face bruised, there on a tree stump, she sits with her head down. I walk closer to her. I'm so glad I can actually move. Seeing one friend in pain and not being given able to move was hard.

I kneel down and look into her eyes. I want ask her something, but I know she can't hear me. Maybe if I try, she can hear. I open my mouth to speak and I hear a stick break. My head jolts up to see what it is. Four people walk out of being a group of trees. Two tall boys who both had Mexican gang tattoo on necks and two tall-ish girls who both have their hair up and the same tattoos on their necks. I know exactly who they are, I can smell them, well more the weed and alcohol they reek of. It's people from school, they always did drugs and went out to parties. I call them the druggies, but everyone else calls them the "D squad." They always supplied drugs to people, and the police are too stupid to realize.

As they approach her, my eyes drift to their hands, or what's in their hands, a glass bottle of beer, a thick stick, and a rock. I don't want to know what they're doing with them. Kaylee sighs and I then realize, she doesn't, know that they're there. She can hear, but not well after what happened last year. We were walking plonk this very path, and the D squad attacked us. They grabbed me and wouldn't let go then they screamed and blew air horns in Kaylee's ears and kept hitting her. Once I got free I hurt them enough to the point where they were scared of me and left. The doctors said that it ruptured her eardrum, and that she would have to have hearing aids in if she wanted to hear again. But with a lot of help, she was able to hear without hearing aids. She wears them sometimes but she usually chosen not to. She should be wearing them now.

They whisper in each other's ears and one girl, Brenna, walks up faster than the rest. I stand up quickly and my body is suddenly tensed up and still.

"No! Not now!" I yell and my mouth is forced shut. I don't want to go through this again! This is torture!

Brenna takes her bottle and stands behind her silently. She swings her arm. I force my mouth open. "BEHIND YOU!" I scream. Kaylee turns and Brenna slams the back of her head. She falls to the ground. "NO!" I scream. They all look around a little then continue to do what they're doing.

I try to move and nothing I do works, I take a step back. Huh? I got to take a step forward and I can only go back to wear I was, no closer. I walk back a little bit and try to run to her, but when I reach where I was, I am forced back. It's kind of like there's a wall I can't see. I punch and I kick, trying to get to her and nothing.

The druggies hit her, kick her and they yell, but mostly they're laughing. "Where's your boyfriend now? He can't protect you anymore! Now, this time, you're actually gonna die. You're never gonna see us again!" Mathew yells. My fists clench. I want to kill him. I grab a rock and throw it at them. They all look up and Jameson winces. Not who I was trying to hit but it works. Wait. It actually hit him, so I guess, I am a ghost. I can throw objects, they just can't see me. I grab more rocks and throw them at them doing my best to not hit Kaylee. I hit them in the head, and the back and they look so confused, they have no idea where they're coming from. Caitlin looks up and screams. "What?" Brenna says. She looks her in the eyes a and points to me. W-what? Can they see me?

"I thought he died! Why can I see through him?" Jeremy says. I look at myself and realize I am see through. Shit, I throw one more rock them I'm completely still. No! Not now! Ugh! Caitlin continues to look at me and the others continue to hurt Kaylee. I force my hands to four big stones and I throw as hard as I can towards them all and they jolt up.

"I'm out of here, I'm not doing the paranormal shit!" Caitlin says. She runs off and trips. She falls down the small hill and I laugh. "FUCK YOU!" I scream and they all take a step back. "Get away from her unless you want to be a ghost too!" I yell. They step back, Jeremy spits on Kaylee. "Fuck it!" he says. He runs and Brenna goes with him. I look Jeremy in the eyes. He kicks her one more time and then screams at her. "YOU SHOULD GO KILL YOURSELF , JUST LIKE YOU'RE BOYFRIEND DID!" He runs off and I run closer to her then collapsed to my knees. I fall down to my face and I'm lying next to her. She breaths in and out quickly. She's conscious, so she heard it all. Can she see me?

She cries and looks down at me. Fear, confusion, disgust, and love all flash through her face. I open my mouth to speak but just like that, everything is black and I'm back in the room with the tattooed people.

 

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 23.05.2014

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Widmung:
I dedicate this book to anyone suffering from suicide, and one who has, and anyone who will. It is a terrible thing to go through and I hope this book can show you why it's not the right decision.