In A Week I Will Be Dead

Chapter Nineteen: Lonely

!!!TW!!!

Suicide, SH, ED references

IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING CONTACT THE SAMARITANS ON 116 123 <3 <3 <3

Myself

Don't Complain:

'No offence, but you're not really trying to get better because you're not seeking help.' First of all...fuck off. Second of all...actually yeah please just fuck off. It's hard, you know? You can't just walk up to a health centre and be like 'sorry to bother you but I don't think I'm well because I want to die.' It doesn't fucking work like that. It takes courage to acknowledge the problem, and sometimes you've already tried counselling. But it didn't work. You switched to knives instead. Can't let the pain out through the mouth, but through the hands. 'No offence, but I've had it worse than you and I'm fine now.' Please now refer to points one and two above. YEAH YOU'RE FUCKING FINE NOW BECAUSE IT'S NOT PART OF YOUR ACTUAL BRAIN THAT'S MESSED UP. What the hell is wrong with the world? After I talked to someone about feeling low, they gave me the same bullshit comments displayed here. And you know what I heard them saying afterwards to some people? They said that they 'solved this person's problem'. What. The. Actual. Fuck. Are you shitting me? Are you having a laugh? Please, just please; don't lie to others to make you seem like a better person. I understand that others can have what I have, but don't say that because you got over it quickly I'm expected to do the same. We are all caught in our private traps, and we cannot get out.

I can't seek help. I don't deserve help. Why should someone as ugly, fucked up and just plain horrible deserve a remedy? What could I have to possibly do to gain that pleasure? Nah mate, that's not allowed – it has to be earned. Just walking into a health centre without something physically wrong with you suggests that you're mentally messed up. What's wrong? My head hurts. It wants to kill itself. That would definitely be a fun conversation. When I used to have counselling before I knew how shit our school counsellor was, I used to feel awkward walking up the steps to The Room. Eyes would watch me, knowing that Up There was where the mad people go. That Place was where they revealed their abnormal emotions, a health centre for the mind. I can't deal with a lot of people looking at me. So, in a way it's like passing a test to get to The Room in the first place. Especially when you have anxiety. The fun of the world is just too good to miss, even for those who can't physically feel fun. Knock knock. Who's there? Suicidal with a gun. Suicidal with a gun who?...Hello?...Hello?...Anybody there?...Hello?...

Noah

When I reach the classroom, I thank my lucky stars that it's lunchtime. I'm practically running by this point, because I'm one step closer to finding where she went. I know deep, deep, down, in the pit of my stomach, that she's not in school. She's somewhere else. Alone. Swarmed with guilt and self-disbelief and all the other thoughts which took turns rotating around my head on the day my parents went out. She needs help. She needs to know that there is love in the world, if you just let it in. She felt a true connection, and it scared her away. She's not used to people knowing the actress behind the mask.

It scares me too. By discovering her true identity, I know that I've sped up whatever self-destructive process she has planned. The giving away gifts. The writing of a note. The location, the time, and method. I just want to reach out into the world and tell her it's okay. It's going to be okay.

I beeline directly for my desk, practically parkouring over various desks and chairs as I do so. As I get closer and closer, my heartbeat palpitates so quickly it's practically a buzz. When you desperately try to reach your destination faster, the seconds always seem like minutes. Then I see it. A web of criss-crossing anarchy, sticking an envelope to the underside of my desk. I try to issue some decorum upon the pile of sticky chaos, by peeling away various strips until the envelope breaks free. I tear it open, and hastily pull out its contents, like a hungry ape in the possession of a banana.