if.

o n e

I can hear the beepers on either side of me. The blur of voices and people is swirling around as they roll me down the pristine hallway. The doors ahead fly open as the gurney carrying my body flies through, just as they have many times before.

They knew it was time for me to go. Some
even asked. I knew it too. None of them cared. At least not until now. They all said, "Why don't you just kill yourself? Do us all a favor." and I thought "Sure, why not?" But once your mother walks in on your life-drained body, laying in a puddle of blood, throwing the empty bottle of pills to the side as she lunges to the phone, you start to see that maybe there was some fault to the plan. Maybe I didn't take enough. Maybe I didn't go deep enough. Maybe it wasn't time yet. And now I lay here, once again, with an oxygen mask pressed to my face as my body fights to live, while my brain fights to die.

I can hear a doctor to the left. She has a really nice voice, but I can't see her. "Attempted suicide, deep gashes to the fore-arms and thighs." It's the same every time. I already knew that I was bad at everything. I can't do anything right. I'm reminded of that daily. But you know you're really bad at everything when you're even bad at dying. I've tried. I really have. This would be the fifth time I've tried. I just really can't live like this anymore. Despite all my efforts to end my constant misery, no matter how close I get, I never win.

The room starts getting darker, closing in around the edges of my blurred vision. That's when I hear the distant voice. None other than my best friend. Of course he came. Just to make this harder. I thought as I hear him fighting with the nurse blocking him from my side. "Let me see her! Please!" I hear Luke's voice echo as the room goes black.