"I remember that it hurt. Seeing her hurt."
(Doc's P.O.V.)
It was an average day. There was nothing different, today was just like every other day of my life. I sat alone in my apartment, starring out the window at the busy LA city life. Everyone had somewhere to be, someone to meet. Me? I had nobody. You're probably thinking that I'm being over dramatic, that I'm just another one of those fake depressed teenagers. But the thing is I'm not depressed. I'm numb. I slowly got up out of bed, and to my closet. I slipped on a pair of white denim shorts and a Captain America shirt. I knew the hardwood floors would be freezing so I slipped on my spider-man slippers. I walked to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face. I looked up at my reflection in the mirror, water slid down my cheeks then dripped off my narrow jaw line. I shut the water off my eyes not leaving my reflection. My brown eyes looked lifeless, they always said your eyes were the window to your soul didn't they? Well my soul had died a long time ago. I put my long dark brown hair into a high pony tail then walked out of the bathroom.
I didn't have to go to work today. All I did was work, I had nothing better to do. I dropped out of college after I ran away.I'd spent 12 years in school and all I learned was complete bull. Once you get to the real world everything changes, reality hits and you're not prepared for anything. I walked into my living room and then into the small kitchen of my apartment. I pulled out the box of Honey Bunches then went looking for a bowl. I had forgot to start the dishwasher last night so they were all dirty. I looked in the cabinet and saw a small bowl hidden in the back. I went on my tip toes and reached for the bowl. I could feel the coldness of the bowl on my finger tips.
"Just a little more."I said to myself trying to reach the bowl. I did a little jump and managed to grab the bowl. However it came sliding out fast and it slipped out of my fingers and came flying down, breaking into pieces as it hit the floor.
I didn't recognize the bowl at first, but once I got closer to clean it up I saw the small little red letters along the inside. I felt tears rush to my eyes. My face got hot and my heart got heavy. I quickly grabbed the pieces and tried to put them back together, I rushed so quickly just to pick them up that they cut my hand. I got a few of the pieces together, enough to read some of it. "Sisters Forever I Love Y"
I starred at the broken glass then I let the pieces slip out of my hand and come crashing ot the floor once again. I stared at the pile of broken pieces. Tears streaming down my face at what was once one of the only good memories I had taken with me once I left. I couldn't believe myself. Suddenly it hit me. A rush of anger and adrenaline. I screamed in frustration as I threw one of the broken pieces at the wall. It flew back at me and I tried to cover my face.
I hissed in pain as one piece managed to cut my cheek. I quickly got up and stormed out the door and to my car. I put the keys in and started driving. It was hard to see with all the tears in my eyes, but somehow I managed to drive myself to my favorite beach. I parked in the parking lot and turned off the car. I sat in the car and let all my tears escape my eyes. The cut on my cheek stung whenever a tear would hit it.
I shut my eyes and rested my head back. I took slow deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. After a few seven count breaths, I opened my eyes and looked for some tissues. I opened the middle compartment in my car and then I saw them. Bottles of medication.
I starred at them, my thoughts running wild. I could all end it, all of it right now. And nobody would know or care. I wouldn't hurt anyone, I'd only end the pain.
I grabbed a bottle and read it, it was my anxiety medicine. I looked around to see nobody in sight, nobody to try and stop me. I opened it the bottle and poured a couple into my hand. I found a half full water bottle on my car floor then downed the pills. I starred at the bottle, I was pathetic. I was too cowardly to do it.
