t.w: mentions of suicide
•••
As I sit here, one foot over the ledge of the terrace, looking over the basketball court, I can't help but think of suicide.
My brain itches with the thought, of just ending it all. One jump, and it'll all be over.
Research says that when a person dies, for the last seven seconds, all their best memories flash in front of their eyes. But now when I am trying to figure out which they could be in my case, I can't think of shit.
Who'd even be sad?
My parents, maybe. But they'd still have Maeve.
Chewing the insides of my cheeks, I jammed my pen against the sixtieth page of my journal and scribbled out whatever I could. It's like these days I could barely figure out words to jot down. My mind was mess. Everything around me was turning into total shit.
And I had no control on my life whatsoever.
I had never felt this lost in my life. Perhaps it was a natural part of growing up. "You've gotta endure the growing pains to grow..." my mother always said.
But how do I stop this ache from growing tenfold?
My gaze flickered over to the small figures move in a cartoonish manner on the basketball field and stopped on one particular.
Damian Vos.
With his curls bouncing atop his head, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose and the little mole above his lip, the thought of seeing Damian Vos was the only thing that still kept me sane at this school.
He was the silver lining for my ruptured little heart.
The wind picked up pace as he moved swiftly towards the basket and shoved the ball into it, his teammates cheering on cue. A sheepish smile tugged on my lips as I wrote down the last lines for the entry.
Just as I was about to complete, I heard a catastrophically annoying voice yell, "Not thinking of jumping, are ya' Doubtfire?!"
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I yelled down, "No, Ryder. That's scheduled for next monday!"
"Do let me now so I can bare the pleasure to see you do a flip!" He yelled back and his annoying chipmunk minions laughed along like it was the joke of the century.
Ryder Hutton, 3rd year as linebacker and 8th year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick. He was a bully, in the most literal cinema-accurate way. He was used to walking around school with his minions like he owned the place. The only reason he exerted an influence on people was because of his dad's political connections.
Everyone was convinced he'd be the mayor.
The day I had heard that sentence, I had pledged to donate all my hair to the homeless.
Ryder Hutton was the boy you thought of when you heard the word "asshole". He was the literal embodiment of everything wrong with men.
Which was a lot of things.
I had my first altercation with Ryder at a houseparty at Miles' house three months back. I was trying to find Bernadette so we could ditch the obnoxious crowd at the scene and head home to watch a horror movie instead. But Bernadette had other plans.
With a thigh-length skirt and sleeveless tee, it didn't take long for Bernadette to become the centre of Ryder's attention.
I was growing frustrated with the trash pop blasting over the speakers when I overheard one of his minions say, "I think he's gonna score her tonight."
