How to Save a Life

Chapter 1

"Don't wake me, cause I don't wanna leave this dream. Don't wake me, cause I never get to see your face." My alarm sings into the early morning. I slap my alarm to turn it off, staring at the light: it read 5:30. I slowly crawl out from under the warm embrace of my bedsheets and blankets. I look into the mirror and sigh. My dull blue eyes were burning red and puffy. My rosy cheeks were stained from tears. I stood in my wrinkled snoopy T-shirt and black gym shorts. My hair was a curly mess, tangled from my restless, nightmarish night. I walked to my closet and stared at the clothing that hung there neatly. They were smooth and unwrinkled. I grab a pair of dark jeans along with a belt, a black tank top and a gray hoodie.

I stare into the mirror, concentrating on my face. I use my foundation, concealer and facial powder to cover my face and the redness from under my eyes. I did my best and move on to doing my eye makeup. Using different blends of grays, blacks, and blues, I manage to create a mysterious looking color. It reminded me of the void I ran through in my dream...my nightmare...my reality.

I wait in the living room for my bus to arrive. The walls are still plain and there's still boxes lying around. It's only been a couple weeks since my parents divorced and the family splitting apart. I ended up living with my heartbroken mother. She's probably going through the same thing as me, but she doesn't show it. She's always been a strong woman, someone I could never be.

"Good morning." My mom says as she walks into the living room to hug me. I tense up a bit, but it's not noticeable to her.

"...Hey" I reply, hesitantly. I glance at the clock that read 6:24. I take this as my chance to leave. "I have to go...bye mom." I say with a weak smile as she hugs me again.

"Bye baby. Have a great day and I love you." She says as I walk out the door into the cool morning. I look back at the apartment complex to see the door is already closed and I'm standing alone. "Love you too." I say quietly as a turn away from home and begin to walk to my bus stop.

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I take my seat on the bus and blare my music through my earbuds. I place my feet onto the seat, preventing anyone else from sitting next to me unless I allow them to. The only time I willingly give up my seat for one person. I listened to my songs and drifted to another world where nobody mattered and I wasn't there, on that bus, dying on the inside.

I feel a small tap on my shoulder, causing me to slowly look up. He has a small smile, hoping I will move my feet so he could sit. I try to give a smile as I begin to move my feet that guarded the seat next to me, allowing him to sit. We sit in silence as I try not to cry. I try to speak, but my voice cracks to a whisper so quiet that it sounds like a lost echo, drifting within the morning wind. Why would he want to talk to me anyway? The rest of the ride, I sit still against the side of the bus walls. I refuse to make eye contact with him and keep to myself. I clutch my shoulders for dear life and try not to show my discomfort with him sitting next to me.

Finally, after waiting for what feels like an eternity, we are able to leave and I can run from him, the memories that pry at my mind and the feelings that once were there.