“Hello. You have reached suicide hotline. To be directed to an operator please press one. If this is an emergency, hang up and dial nine one o- you have pressed one. You will be directed to an operator in seconds. Please hold.”
I listened to the dial tone of the phone. My hands started sweating from the thought of talking to a stranger about how I wanted to kill myself. Although, talking to a stranger is supposed to be better than talking to your own mother about this type of stuff, anxiety still covers me from head to toe. Like a blanket, but its not keeping me warm or bringing me any kind of comfort. It brings sweaty palms and foreheads and bad thoughts, that seem to worsen than before.
"Hello?" a voice called, snapping me out of my dream. I thought about hanging up for a second but second thought it.
"Hello." I answered back. I wasn't sure how to start off conversations like this. 'oh hey I was wondering if you could talk me out of killing myself.' Maybe that's the way to go.
It was silent for a while and I had thought he had hung up, until I heard him sigh and voices muffled in the background.
"Welcome to suicide hotline. If this is an emergency please hang up and dial nine one one. Are you in any danger at the moment? If so hang up and dial nine one one. What are you doing right now? If it's anything life threatening please hang up and dial ni-" he said in a monotone voice, but I cut him off. I thought. I wasn't doing anything.
"I'm thinking about how your dreaded voice makes me want to kill myself even more so than before. What about you?" I said. My voice was shaking and I had hoped he didn't notice the way my voice seemed to tremble with my hands. He sighed again, like this was absolutely hell for him.
"I'm talking to you. If this a prank, I swear-" he said, but my loud sigh cut him off. "What?" he asked. I sighed again.
"Listen, I'm not really sure how to start off things like this." I started. "But, my mother is currently downstairs and I don't think she'd appreciate finding a dead teenager on her bedroom floor. Like, how selfish would that be of me to let her witness that? Pretty selfish, man. Anyways, so how does this work? Do I tell you my life story or?" I said, surprised I didn't stutter and that I didn't sound like I was being shaken while I was talking. I could hear the guy chuckle slightly.
"Yeah, we can start there. My names Niall, by the way." He said. I nodded, even though he couldn't see me.
"Well, Niall, my names Nix. Did you know Nix means nothing in German? I guess you could say that's where it all started. I was on the internet and, oh my god, the internet, I was looking up foreign words, mainly German, because I was really into this anime stuff than, and my mother had come upstairs to ask me what I was doing. So, little adventurous ten year old me, looked up the word nothing in German and it was my own name. I looked at her and said 'nix' and she nodded, like she knew! Fuckin knew my name meant nothing! Having a name that literally means nothing, makes you fell like nothing. Anyway, I was telling my father, who, mind you, wasn't to fond of me anyhow, about how my name meant nothing and he just nodded and said "yes, the name seems to fit" and I cried. Might've been something he had said in the spur of the moment, but I cried anyway. A few months later he left me and my mother for this other woman who always smelled like Justin Bieber perfume. Like, you're passed your 40's, is this really necessary?
A year later I went into sixth grade and we were on a school trip and I was the only one to order ice cream at the restaurant we stopped at and, boy, did it crush me. Like, was everyone else too good for this ice cream? I certainly wasn't, obviously.
Anyways, I don't have any friends, I'm eighteen, I graduated high school early, because I took online classes, because, school's rough when a certain crowd of people corner you in the back of the school and take turns punching you at least three times a week. I live with only my mother and I don't have any siblings. Maybe that's why I'm so lonely? I do have a cat named Rose, though. She's kind of a bitch.
I'm not really sure what else to tell you." I finished, and sighed. My hands had stopped shaking, but I could feel my chest hurt from the thought of my dad.
"Well, what are you thinking about right now?" Niall asked. And I thought.
"I'm not really sure, everything kinda just jumbles up." I said. Niall laughed a little bit and the sound made me smile slightly. "I'm thinking about how I really like making people laugh. Like, hearing someone laugh just kind of gives me this satisfaction, like, I'm so glad I could make someone laugh even if its not myself. Someone's happy for at least a second and that's what counts."
"So, I'm assuming you were attempting suicide since you called. Wanna talk about that?" he asked. I actually thought if I wanted to talk about it.
"No, not really. I mean, I wasn't really attempting it, I was thinking about it and I didn't want to think about anymore since its all that's invaded my mind since I was thirteen. I'm eighteen now and my mother wants me to move out, but that's terrifying to think of. It gives me a lot more freedom and that's terrifying itself. " I said.
"I know what you mean." He sighed. "I moved out when I was eighteen. Moved back in two months later. I live on my own now, but it was hard at first especially- ya know what, we're talking about you." He said.
"Okay Niall. Well, I really like talking to you so maybe we can have a normal conversation sometime." I said. "I don't really talk to a lot of people so you're goddamn lucky."
"Where are you from Nix?" he asked.
"I'm from New York City, New York. I moved to London when I was six for my dad's job and we just never moved back. Where are you from Niall?" I asked.
"I'm from Dublin, Ireland. I moved to London when I moved out of my family's house." He said.
"So we both live in London.. interesting." I said, Niall chuckling. "If we both ended up at the same place, say... at the park at the end of town, at the same day.. tomorrow, at the same time... twelve in the afternoon, we might meet?" I said and he laughed.
"Yeah, I guess so." He said.
"How will I know it's you though?" I asked.
"I have blonde hair and blue eyes and my voice will stay the same accent as today." He said. "And how will I know its you?" he asked.
"I'll be wearing a ribbon around my neck. Not to be creepy or anything, just for the hell of it." I said. "Well, Niall. This was a good chat. Thanks for not making me feel the need to die. That's always a good feeling. I'm going to go suffocate myself in sad songs now. I'll probably see you tomorrow." I finished.
"Okay, Nix. Thanks for telling me about yourself. I'm glad you called. Bye."
"Bye, Niall." I said and hung up.
I didn't sleep that night. Insomnia swept me into its arms and dipped into the dim stove light of the kitchen while I count how many pain reliever bottles my mother had collected over the years. Maybe her thoughts caused her chest to hurt like mine? But, I'm sure if anything was happening she'd talk about it. She's the complete opposite of me.
I finally laid down on the couch with the TV playing Friends. And I ended up back on the dreaded internet that kept me company for the past years.
A/n poem the chapter was named after youtube.com/watch?v=DY8ynr2cSTs
