Quandary ~Johnnyboy, Stevepop, Dal-Bit

sometimes they're terrible!

Steve's POV: June 1st, Saturday
18 times.
My dad has told me 18 times now, to kill myself.
He's been going crazy.
If you see my brother you can see all the crazy he's went.
He's beat him into complete bruises.
And me? He's been mentally taking me out.
Maybe it's cause he knows I'm not as strong as Isaiah.
Or maybe it's because I really am just a terrible awful thing and I'm not good enough to be here.
Or maybe it's because he knew he was gonna win this battle with me.

It's two in the morning and I'm writing letters to everyone. Actual paper letters. Actually suicide letters. First Isaiah, then Johnny, Pony, Darry, Dallas, Two-bit, my friends from school, Mr & Mrs. Curtis. I tell them why I'm committing and how my dad has put me at rock bottom.
Then I write Soda's letter. It goes something like this:

If you're reading this, I'm dead. Soda, I love you more than anything and I don't want you to be sad. That sounds dumb, but it's completely genuine. I'm never sad when I'm with you because you feel like a safe, warm home. Unfortunately, I just have a house not a home. Because your home was really mine too. I thank you for all the laughs we've shared and all the hugs and kisses too. You've given me a feeling I could spend my whole life chasing for.
Or I could just chase you. I want you to find someone better than me, okay? You deserve better, you can do better. I've never been quite sure why you fell so hard for me? I'm not the best or coolest at anything. So I hope you find someone who puts you on clouds like you did to me. I'll love you forever, don't forget that.
Yours only, Steven Randle

My tears are on the paper and I shook hard writing it, but that's okay.

I take the letters and get in my car.

I drive over to the Curtis house and sit them on the front door step before going back to my house to sleep just one more time.

I wake up in the morning and go to the kitchen to sit with my brother.
He starts talking about something, as I go and get a knife from off the thingy that holds them all.

"What are you doing?" He squints at me.

"I love you, okay?" I had put his letter on his dresser last night. He'll see it eventually.

Then I ran the big knife all the way from my wrist to the bend in my elbow. I felt it go through my skin and my veins and muscles. And I just want it all to be over.

Isaiah watched in horror. He jumped up and grabbed my arm and his phone, he was already calling 911.

It was running out fast. He better hurry if he can.

I started slipping and he caught me just to fall to the ground with me.

"Please, please. Steve, don't leave me like this. Please, Steve." He begged.

Soda's POV:
Dad had said that something had come to our porch last night, but all he brought in was letters.

We all opened ours at the same time.
If you're reading this, I'm dead.

I put mine down, I already knew who it was. He's the only person, who hasn't been coming around. Who hasn't been on social media, or in contact with anyone. The only one falling.

Everyone else read theirs and cried.

I read mine, and I think I read over again and over again and again. But I don't really know because my heart just felt like everything was repeating.