Before I Die

Tricks

I walked in the room. “Uh, hi.” My mind immediately registered every single way that I could kill myself in this room. Traditionally, I would recite this list whenever I walked into a room. So then I began my tradition. “I could hang myself from the fan, I could stab myself with those scissors I could jump out the window, or I could take all the pills that you’re most likely hiding in that bag.” I looked at Astrid, and was shocked. Usually when I do that people have their mouths open surprise and then, when I make eye contact, they turn their heads down. Not Astrid. She didn’t even react, not a twitch, not a flinch, nothing.

“I’ve seen a lot of kids do that, it’s stopped surprising me.” I was startled, nobody had ever reacted like that before. “So come sit down.” I sat.

“So you’re not gonna make me lay on some couch?” I asked, “Because I can think of about six ways I can kill myself with the chair I’m sitting in, and only two ways with the couch.”

I don’t believe that you would attempt to kill yourself in front of me.”

Don’t act like you know me, that’s what everyone else does. No one really knows me.”

“Alright, well then, let me get to know you. Do you have any pets?”

“What? Aren’t you gonna ask me something about why I wanna die?”

“That’s not getting to know you, is it?”

“I guess not… no, I don’t have any pets.”

“Okay, well that’s something, what do you like?”

“Uhhh… I like music.”

“What kinds?”

“Um, I like Green Day, The Killers, Bruce Springsteen, stuff like that.”

That’s a pretty wide range of tastes.” Astrid said. By now I was just fiddling with my jacket strings, I’d never had a therapist ask me these kinds of questions before. It was making me anxious.

“Yeah, I guess.” I almost wanted her to start asking me questions about suicide, at least I knew what I was gonna say with those.

“What do you wanna be when you grow up?”

“That’s a kids question.”

Doesn’t mean that you can’t answer it.”

“Fair point, but I’ve never wanted to be anything.”

“Well, what have you always wanted to do?”

“Nothing.” Then, with a voice like the fairy godmother in Cinderella, Astrid said

“I think that I have just the thing for you.” Astrid got up and walked over to a cabinet and pulled out three gigantic rolls of paper. One black, one white, one pink. “Which one do you like best?”

“The black one,” I said, “But if you’re gonna have me write on it, it won’t work.”

“Of course it will.” Astrid replied, “There’s such thing as a silver marker.”

“Oh.” I replied. That’s just another way I could die. Huffing a silver marker. Astrid cut off a sheet of the paper, got a silver marker and brought it over to me. "What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked.

"You'll see in a sec." She said. I could see her writing something on the paper, but I couldn't see what. Astrid held it up to me and, in large letters on the top it said "Before I Die..." 

"What's this?"

"It's a before I die list." At that point I almost walked out the door, but curiosity got the better of me.

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Every day, once a day, you write one thing down on the list that you want to do before you die, and you do one thing on the list. When you run out of ideas, when there is nothing left on the list, that's when you can kill yourself." I was stunned. Not ever, had any therapist of mine given me the option, or anywhere close to the option, of killing myself. What was I supposed to say? What the hell was she thinking? This had to be some kind of trick, to get me to confess something.

"So what's the trick?" I had to know. "What are you trying to get me to tell you?" I just wanted to get out of this room. Astrid didn't seem phased at all.

"So let's write five things now, to get you started, and then you can do the rest on your own. Sound good?" I couldn't take this anymore. I had to know why she was playing this sick trick on me.

"What the hell do you want me to say?" Do you want me to tell you that I've always wanted to go skydiving? To tell you that the last thing I would want to do is fall in love? I don't give a shit about any of that! I don't give a shit about my freakin' life! Do you not understand? Do you know what the word suicide means? I--

"Suicide, the intentional taking of one's own life. You happy? I know what it means. Now let's write down these five things." I threw my head back and growled. I knew the only way I was getting out of this office is if I wrote down those five things. I threw myself into the chair.

"Fine." I muttered. "Let's make this fast." 

"So... let's see, what do you want to do?"

"Uh... I have no idea, I've never wanted to do much of anything."

"Well, let's start thinking."

Hey guys! As you know from the Intro, I'm writing this story for the No More Bullying Challenge. If there is anything offensive to you in this story, I beg of you, just stop reading. There is no need to leave any hateful comments. I'm sorry if I do offend anyone, but suicide is a hard thing to discuss without offending someone. I just wanted to let you know that I'll be updating on a weekly basis as best I can. Remember to like, comment vote?? Thanks ;)