𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫, 𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘀

𝟏𝟎𝟕

"𝙶𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎"
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ
𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕩𝕥 𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕜
𝘥𝘳. 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱𝘩𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘯'𝘴 𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦

     "HOW'S IT BEEN?" Dr. Stepheson asks, "Since the funeral?"

"It was okay, then it was bad, then it was okay again, and then something else happened," Noah explains as she frowns.

"Do you wanna share what happened?" The doctor asks.

"It was the anniversary of losing my friend," Noah mutters as she toys with the lining of her shirt.

"How did you lose them?"

"Suicide," Noah mumbles.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Noah thinks to herself before nodding. The air in the room feels cold and it's dead silent. Noah tries to grasp the true meaning of her feelings. To process she has to feel and to feel, she has to be honest with herself.

"I think about him a lot," Noah says as tears meet her eyes, "I'll never forget all the times we had.  Every afternoon in his backyard, messing around in art class, eating lunch together under the bleachers in the gym, having dinner with his Mom."

"Do you understand why he did what he did?" Dr. Stephenson asks.

"Yes and no," Noah shrugs, "His dad left before he was born. His mom worked two jobs to keep the house. He only saw her after school until dinner and he had to take care of himself when she'd leave for work. His Dad had depression, so his Mom thinks it was genetic."

Noah shakes her head as she thinks of what he must have been feeling. He was in pain, she knew that. But she was in pain too.

"And I was his only friend. And he was mine, but for me, that meant everything. I think he wanted so much more out of life and he just felt like he wasn't getting it and he never would. But to me, he gave me everything—everything I could've ever wanted."

"It sounds horrible, but I don't understand how I wasn't enough. I was always there for him. I looked after him, I acknowledged him and his depression. I made sure he knew every day that I was there for him."

"Did he tell you anything about harming himself?" The doctor inquires.

"No," Noah shakes her head, "I just woke up one day and went to school and he wasn't there. I walked to his house after school to check on him and there were police cars—" She pauses to let out a sob, "I ran up to the door and the police officers tried to push me away, but I got in. His Mom just—"

Noah wipes under her nose with her sleeve. She sniffles and remembers the day when her friend's life ended and hers fell apart.

"She just hugged me and told me she was sorry," The teen cries, "And then she gave me this..." She says as she pulls a folded piece of paper out of her jacket pocket.

Dr. Stephenson eyes the piece of paper. He watches as the teen unfolds it and stares at it. The only piece of Max that she has left.

"It's the note he wrote for me," Noah cries as she rubs her fingers along his handwriting.

"You don't have to show me," Dr. Stephenson tells her.

"No, it's okay," Noah says and takes a deep breath.  She holds the paper out to Dr. Stephenson, but he shakes his head.

"You should read it out loud," He declares, "The only person that should hold that note is you."

The teen peers down at the paper and feels her heart drop. She always keeps the note on her and intends to forever. She hasn't actually read it since the moment Max's mother handed it to her, though. She doesn't need to—she remembers every word, every curve of each letter.