Huge trigger warnings!!!!!!!
Suicide, overdosing, death.
Please before you read this, I would never ever encourage this. Please reach out for help if you ever have suicidal thoughts. You are loved and seen.
National Suicide Prevention Hotline:
1-800-273-8255
Please stay safe all, I'm proud of you guys for existing <3
3rd Person POV:
It was currently 8:21 PM, Michael left the party because there was no reason to even stay there, nobody knew he existed, if they did, he was a target to be bullied. He never gave a shit about that though, he never let it actually let him down, why should he? ...
He was given his reason to care. He wanted to help his best friend, he needed to and he tried. But Jeremy, the only person who mattered, thinks he's a loser.
His mind couldn't think of anything logical right now, his two moms were out for a date night, it was the worst night to be alone. He couldn't call them though, he can't be a bother.
So here he was, in his famous red hoodie with his not as famous, black sweatpants. He was sitting on his bed, unable to think of anything other than he has nobody. He's a loser, right?? Who gave a shit about some loser who smokes all the time, plays games in his basement, he's worthless. A worthless piece of shit who is taking up space.
He couldn't catch his breath, his chest rose and fell way too fast, tears were streaming down his very red and puffy cheeks. Why, how could Jeremy say that?
It wasn't even Jeremy, his own fears came to life. He couldn't keep a friendship that's been there since elementary school. How pathetic is that? Honestly?
Please no, his mind couldn't go there. Please sit back down, he kept begging himself to stay on his bed.
He stood up, walking to his bathroom, sobbing uncontrollably, his legs wobbly, everything was unbelievably blurry. His thoughts begged him to stop.
Michael, sit back down, you can't do this. Sit down and actually think, don't beg for attention. What would your mothers think? Not only are you an awful friend, but an awful son too!!
They screamed at him as he held his hand out to grab the bathroom doorknob, turning and opening the door. He turned the light switch up, the room brightening up.
Don't open that mirror.
He couldn't even listen to himself. He opened it and grabbed his anti-depressants, his hand was shaking like there was no tomorrow.. there might not be anyway.
He took a shakey breath, staring at this small, orange bottle. He was so alone, he wouldn't feel so much pain that has been building up if he just took this whole bottle..
His thoughts were cut off. He took as many pills as he could and sat there, he couldn't be hurt anymore.
Right after he took the medication, he gave a small prayer, he apologized to his moms, he wasn't strong enough for this world.
Time passed, he didn't know how long. He heard.. faint talking? Like it was close to him but he was underwater, that's how it sounded.
He stood up and stumbled, he placed his hand on the wall and slowly walked, his eyesight was so awful, everything was beyond blurry. He blinked and now he was in the living room? There were two figures by the door.
"Mama-" he spoke breathlessly like he just ran a marathon. And another blink, he had fallen into her arms, she was sitting and holding him. More talking was going on, she was yelling but it was faint still. She was crying, he felt the tears. "I'm sorry mama. Don't be sad, please" but when he blinked again, he didn't open his eyes again, there was no more pain, no more sadness. It was peaceful.
