Freed [N.H.]

Ch. 8

(A/N: I’m really sorry about the short update. I’m sick and still busy! Plus, this chapter is important so it deserves its own little short chapter. Tell me whatcha think down below! Update should be coming soon!)

I sat starring at the blank wall. I felt numb. I felt broken. I felt…empty.

Never have I ever experienced a death of somebody close to me. Being how I’ve been the past few years, I didn’t even have anyone close to me.

And now Cole being dead…

I felt my stomach flip and my heart free fall to the bottom of it. My insides churned and I relived the memory of finding him.

Finding his bloody, lifeless body at our table.

He thought of me.

When trying to kill himself…. He thought of me.

Just like I was of him.

I felt hot tears fall from my face and splatter against my pillow. Rain poured hard and loud against my window. The electricity occasionally flickering until the backup generator switched on. Normally, I would love days like these. The rain and cold were calming to me, but not today. Instead the skies were gloomy and depressing like my mood. Every crack of lighting and roar of thunder seemed like my screams for him to come back.

Cole, my best friend, was gone.

And I hadn’t even suspected it!

I knew Cole was here for a reason. We all were. He was admitted her years before me for trying to overdose on pills. He was a cutter before that once bullies started ruining his life. A private school wasn’t the place for a gay boy like him. His own parents shunned him.

When he told me his story, my heart broke a little. People are people. They all deserve equality. Bullies and liars are two things I hate with a roaring passion. Cole was too sweet to be treated horribly.

He told me that his first year here was tough. He kept quiet, shocking to me even, and didn’t speak. When he was first here, his therapist was Dr.Alter. I’ve never met him, since he retired right before I left, but apparently he changed Cole’s life. He was bisexual, but don’t get any ideas. He was reaching his forties. He suffered through bullying and depression and his stories really influenced Cole. If I ever met Dr. Alter, I would drop down on my knees and thank him. His new therapist, Dr. Mounty, who we referred to as Godzilla was a complete jackass and was clearly a homophobic. Cole begged to get a new therapist but apparently Godzilla was the “best to deal with bullying issues.” I always felt bad for Cole after he left his sessions, but he never let it get him down. He was rarely sad.

I never have seen Cole depressed.

Sure, he had bad days. We all do. Just some more than others, like myself. Though, Cole never showed any signs of being suicidal. Being here a year I’ve only heard of two people dying. One guy, named Brody, go released after three years to then kill himself only days later. I barely spoke to him so it didn’t affect me. Then towards the middle of my year, a girl name Tanya, fainted and died. She, like Molly, had an eating disorder and apparently had been purging in her room. Disgusting, but still tragic.

Now that Cole was the one dead… I felt horrid. Again, I felt empty.

I’d lost my only best friend who knew everything about me and how I felt. And just like that, he was gone.

I didn’t realize how long I was in my own little thinking world until there was a knock at my door.

I looked over my shoulder to look while my guard, who’s name I learned is Samuel, rose from his chair and turned around.