Skipping Stones ➼ pjm ✓

🕞03 00 Hour🕞

03 00 Hour

I wanted to know more about her. I wanted to know her name; her age - though I could tell she was in high school. I wanted to know everything about her.

I wanted to know her story.

"So what brought you here?" I asked.

"Hmm?" She stopped picking at her sleeves and looked at me.

"Y'know, its not thay common for a teenage girl to come out to the lake past midnight." I sneaked in the 'teenage girl' part to see if she'd correct me.

She didn't.

"Problems..." She mumbled softly, her hair falling over her face to hide her expression.

She sounded upset. I wanted to hold her tight, to tell her that the world was a beautiful place and that what she was going through now probably wouldn't matter next year. However, I doubt I could since I didn't even have the strength and faith to believe in that myself.

"Tell me." I urged.

I could see her stiffen slightly which made me more eager to find out what she was hiding: What her big secret was.

"Why are you here?" She inquired, avoiding my question.

I swallowed and stiffened. She must have seen this

because she changed her position so that she was

sitting Indian-style, facing me.

"Let's make a deal, shall we?" She said softly, but it was as if it was amplified in the dark silence.

"Depends on what kind of deal." I shrugged, mimicking her sitting position.

"If you tell me why you're here, I'll tell you why I'm here." She put her hand out. "Deal?"

I thought about telling a complete stranger about my problems. It was pretty weird but odds are, I'll never see her again so why the heck not? Plus, its probably a good thing if I let it all out instead of bottling up inside. So, I took a deep breath and grabbed her hand.

"Deal."

Her hand felt warm; almost like the inside of a coat on a Christmas day. It shot tingles through my veins and shivers down my spine. Her hold was.... Electrifying.

And I liked it.

It gave my body a weird tingling sensation and the feeling was all so foreign, but I wanted more. Its like eating a lemon meringue pie for the first time. It makes you crave for more.

She let go and my hanf felt weird without her

touch. It didn't feel right.

"Well, start whenever you want."

"Okay..." I said with a shaky voice. Telling someone my problems was never easy. I wouldn't know how they'd react. "My brother died on this day last year."

I looked at the way her lips curled into an 'O' as if she wasn't expecting me to say that.

I continued. "My brother was honestly like a ball of sunshine. He brought joy to every single person. He was the cake at a birthday party and booze at a club. He was so damn well-liked by other people.

Safe to say, a person that smiles everyday should be geniunely happy. But he wasn't. And I didn't realise that until he died.

"My brother and I went to different schools but I could only imagine how well-liked he was by other people in school. He never got into trouble, nor did anyone mess with him, but that's based on what he used to tell me. He didn't tell me he got bullied; that he got called faggot at least ten times a week; that he was suffering.

"He never told me. He kept it all to himself. Then one day I reached home and knocked on his door, knowing he'd be home because his school released them an hour earlier than mine. He didn't call out for me to come in. I opened the door knowing he wouldn't mind and saw that his backpack was on the floor. He was a freaking organised person, so he'd never have placed his bag on the floor.

"I went to the bathroom and called out for him. He didn't call back. I noticed that light was peaking out from under the door so I knew he was inside. Plus. he'd never leave the lights on when not in use. The door wasn't locked, thankfully. But when I opened the door..."

I could feel tears well up in my eyes and I told myself to stay strong, to not cry in front of a girl. But I couldn't. The tears fell and my hands balled into a fist.

She saw this and she reached out to hold my hand, placing them on top of my balled ones. I closed my eyes and relaxed my body.

After a deep breath, I got to the hardest part. "I found him in the bathtub. His lips were already a crimson purple, telling me that he was out. That he was gone. I wondered how long he'd been here. I looked away and glanced at his wrists and saw millions of cuts. Some were new, some were old. I've never noticed the cuts; he did a pretty damn good job with hiding them. He always wore jumpers, but they were always band merch so I thought he just really liked them that he'd choose them over suffocating in the heat.

"He died due to the loss of blood; a lot of blood. The police came and deduced that it was a suicide, plus it was obvious. My parents were shocked to find out as well. Honestly, who wouldn't? He seemed so carefree. Like he was living in wonderland. Its just hard to get over the fact that he commited suicide, you know?

"After that, I guess my whole family blames themselves. We all thought he was fine. All the days where we had dinner together, he never told us anything about it. He was so good with hiding his secrets... I just... I just wish he would've told me."

I pulled my hands out of her hold and covered my eyes so that she wouldn't see me bawl my eyes out.

"I just wish I could have helped him. I would've helped him, every step of the way. But... But he didn't tell me about it. Instead, he decided to build up.... build up a wall and I didn't even realise.... Instead, he cheered me up when I was down. I just wish I could've... helped him. Then, he wouldn't... wouldn't... wouldn't be dead."

⋘ TO BE CONTINUED ⋙