TW: Suicide attempt, self-harm
You awake with a start, in your bed, inside of your house. You look to your right and rub your eyes to read the clock.
But what the clock says confuses you. The clock reads, 87:00. That can't be possible, can it? You stare at it for a good ten minutes.
You get up slowly, and walk to your door. To your surprise, it's not the rest of your house that lies beyond the doorway. It's a field. A field of roses. All different shades of red, yellow, and blue. Your hair blows softly in the wind, like a parent is ruffling a child's hair.
You approach the most unique rose. It is a mixture of yellows and blues and reds. You feel a nostalgic pang hit your chest but... why? You focus on the rose a little more and voices pop into your head.
"When... will... wake up?" "87... No luck..." "No... still... luck..."
It sounded like a radio that was cutting through. You keep focusing and close your eyes. The voices become clearer than before. But are still fuzzy, and for some reason, you feel resentment towards the people who are talking.
As if they wronged you in some sort of way. You feel a sting on your chest, and look down. You're covered in ribbons. Your wrists, your thighs, and your stomach. Red ribbons. They were like silk, very soft, but these red ribbons made you remember something.
It was right in front of you, a television. At first, words appeared quickly onto the screen, and you froze. You heard these words before. They stung, and your ribbons wrapped around you tighter. Then you saw it. You were lying in a pool of spilled liquid that probably came from you.
You started to cry. You felt this angry wash away, and when you opened your eyes, you saw a beach, with waves crashing onto the scenery. There was a person standing there, a strange looking person. You feel this need to see them, and so you walk to the person.
What you see should surprise you, but it doesn't. It's you. It's you before this happened. Whatever this is. A dream, perhaps? And you speak. No, not you but the other you. A whisper comes out of the other you's mouth and you faintly hear it.
"Why? Why couldn't you just kill me, without killing yourself? I wanted you to be happy."
That's right. You remember now. The roses were your favorite flowers, and you had a garden of them. The beach was where you loved visiting. The people talking- it was the doctor who was trying so very hard to save you. This person, you, was the sadness in yourself.
You attempted to kill your sad self, but you also took away the happy part of yourself. You didn't want to kill yourself. You wanted to kill the sadness, the numb part. Not yourself. You started to cry, and fall to your knees. Your sad self started to cry and smiled gently at you, and stroked your cheek and whispered,
"Please, don't go with me. I promise to leave when you awake. You have very little time in this timeless life. Be okay. Be happy. I will still be sad, in this other world, but I will be happier, knowing you killed me, and not you."
________________________________________
You open your eyes, slowly, and gently. Your hand is being held by someone, and you look over, lazily. It's your parents. Your parents had tears engraved onto their cheek, and you look to the heart monitor now. It's beeping. You're alive. You feel so much relief. You didn't want to die. You just wanted to kill the sadness. You did, but it almost costed your life.
You hear the door opening, and you saw the doctor look at you. The doctor wakes your parents, and they cry. You cry. But not for the same reason as them.
You cry because you're alive. Because you can cry. You can feel.
You're happy, and for all the right reasons.
