Left To Survive

XXVIII

This chapter can be triggering

(skip if needed)

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꧁ Yara ꧂

9 April

8 PM

This was a mistake.

After taking the dose I sat against the wall of the bathtub, and my breathing became harder as I felt like chocking. This was even worse than any panic attack I'd ever gotten.

And it was a mistake.

My life played itself in front of my eyes; all the bad stuff that had happened, the hurting of it, the despair and hopelessness. But it didn't seem the same now. Memories came back. My family, happy. My dad, Aaron and I having stupid little fights and forgiving each other 5 minutes later. My mother, on one of her better days.

And Alisha. How we met, on our walks, out shopping, laughing. Pure joy, but now it all felt like pain. Because I was stopping myself from having the mere chance of a better life. I had given up.

Mistake.

I needed to stop this, I could feel my body deciding, it was like everything inside me was already dead, yet here I was, for the first time in weeks, where my mind wanted to live, and my body didn't. The roles were reversed.

I had to call someone. I lifted my arm, tried to sit more upright, but everything was shaking and the more I moved, the more my vision fell away. If I didn't act quick, it was going to be too late. Too late to live my life. Again I tried to reach my phone, and with my last strength I grabbed and pulled it towards me.

With the phone in my shaking hands, I dialed 911. Whilst I waited for them to answer me, a wave of nausea came over me. I couldn't hold myself against the tub anymore and slid down, now with my back on the ground. I stared at the ceiling, the pain too excruciating to endure, my body too tired to keep on trying. I started gasping for air, felt myself choking more and more as my throat closed off.

Hello, this is 911, what's your emergency?

I opened my mouth to answer. Instead, nothing. I gasped for air, the choking feeling getting worse with the minute. I had to answer, I needed to stop this, I had to live..

Please answer me. What's the emergency? Where are you? Are you in danger?

The last thing I hear is the tone of the line hanging up, and a long beep, before everything went black.

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11 PM

White lights surrounding me, blinding me. Doctors hanging over me, putting tubes in my body. I still couldn't move, but the pain was gone. I looked at them in trance. What were they doing? I was still awake...

Suddenly my body moved out of itself. I couldn't control it, and I left the emergency bed, floating. A dream? Hallucination? Probably something like that. I saw the doctors from above now, manipulating and touching me, trying to save a body. My body. That was me, laying down there, like a corpse. Disgusted, I looked down at what was once me. I looked just as broken and dead as I had felt.

Suddenly I could hear sounds, I didn't even realize there was no sound before. "Charge to 300... Clear!" A shock went through the body. Still a flatline on the monitor. "Charge again, people, we can't lose her!" Another shock. It wasn't not going to work. The sudden realization took my breath away, tears rolling down my spirit-like face. I was dying. No, I was dead. I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything about it. The sounds of the flatline resonated in my head, and everything disappeared again with a white flash.

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It's been two weeks now, since I died.

Some part of me always thought I'd go to heaven, or hell. I always thought there would be something after death, and I guess that something was me becoming a ghost. A ghost. Who would've thought that? I kind of made peace with my new "life".

The thing I hadn't made peace with was the result of my death. The hurting, the pain I'd caused. In no world I could have seen this coming, I was not prepared. And I absolutely hate myself for the hurting I had caused.

The worst was Alisha. I stayed around her for the most part, watching her. I hated that I couldn't do anything about her pain. I hated that she cared so much about me, that she always cared so freaking much.

I hated that she stopped fighting for herself, and that the bullying was worse than ever before. Worse than anyone deserved, and she just let it happen.

I hated that this stupid guy Jaden, who wrote in his stupid little diary about how much he was in love with my Alisha, didn't do shit about the bullying.

And my mother. In the beginning I was so mad at her, for not even spilling a single tear about me, of being exactly the person I thought she was. That gave me some fulfillment, knowing that I wasn't wrong. But then I saw her when she was alone, when Aaron went to his room to sleep. I saw the pain. I saw the tears, the self-hate and regret written all over her face. She had booked therapist appointments, for Aaron. For her son. And for herself.

At least he'll live a better life than me.