I never wanted to go to this stupid therapy group, but I am
only doing this for my "friends.
I know they think I am depressed,
but if it is true, I dont think it would ever be so bad that I needed a therapist, at least that's what I thought.
Every thinks its to the point where I will eventually kill myself.
I walk in and sit in the only empty seat,
Next to you.
You told that your name was Jack, but all your friends call Johnson.
You had dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. You looked adorable in your black skinny jeans and black Vans with your red Nebraska hoodie over your Westside Warriors tee shirt from high school.
I tell you my name, Obri, and you smile widely before looking straight down to my mint green converse.
I ask why you're here, and it turns out to be the same reason why I am there, your so called friends think you're depressed and send you to this little therapy group, kinda like how Hazel's doctor and parents did in The Fault In Our Stars.
You invite me to your friends house to watch Netflix and hangout.
I reject, saying that I had to be home after group, which was a huge lie.
FLASHBACK
"Make some friends today, Obri, please?" she begged.
"Shut up mom, this isn't TFIOS!" I said walking to my literal heart of Jesus, which was also in the basement of the church.
END OF FLASHBACK
I only talked to you 73 times after that day, although we were head over heels in love for each other, and we exchanged numbers twice.
I wondered for 3 days why you didn't answer my calls or texts.
Apparently, you really were depressed to the point you would committ suicide. Or else, I wouldn't be sitting here on my bed that we cuddled on numerous times after your funeral.
I really miss you, Jack. It's killing me inside. I'm trying to stay strong for you and the guys, but I don't think I can do that anymore, I just need to be with you, so thats what I am going to do.
I love you, Jack
See you soon-
Obri
I sealed the envelope and grabbed the gun, putting it on my forehead, and pulling the trigger.
______________________
Listen pancakes, I know you hate me for just making that quick, but its the point of it being a short story/ poem. Hope you like, although I am evil. 😈😈😈
Much Love,
Maggie💖💖🍱
