Stay Away From My Friends (Jenna McDougall and Vic Fuentes)

Chapter 13

**SUICIDE TRIGGER WARNING**

I wake up sometime around 6 a.m. I don't remember where I am for a minute, but then memories of last night hit me, slapping me in the face. It's too early for this.

I check my phone, which is, surprisingly, not dead. I have a text from my mom.

"If you go to school you can come back home!"

She's calmed down a but, and is feeling a little bad about what happened, but is still clearly pissed. I'll take what I can get at this point.

I'll apologize when I see her. But I won't tell her what's going on.

I slide out of bed. I guess I should get ready.

Jonny's still asleep on the floor. I shouldn't wake him. I tiptoe past him, going downstairs.

Natalie washed and dried my clothes last night. God, that girl is the sweetest. I head to the bathroom and change. I pour a little mouthwash into my mouth and use it. I hope Jonny won't mind. I sneak back into his room, grab my bag, and go back downstairs. I leave a quick note for Jonny, thanking him and Natalie for everything and telling them what's going on. Then I slip out.

The sun's just starting to rise. Everything's still wet with morning dew. It's quiet and peaceful. It's relaxing.

I sneak back home and grab a few of my things. A journal, my headphones, and a charger. I creep back out, careful not to wake anyone.

I get my skateboard from the garage and listen to music while riding to school. I get there about an hour early. That gives me time to charge my phone and catch up on homework.

After I talk to all my teachers, I go to my first  hour and sit in the back. I work on what I missed while having my phone plugged in next to me. Perks of sitting in the back.

Eventually the bell rings and people start coming to class. No one notices I'm back, but I don't care. I didn't expect them too.

It doesn't look like Ronnie's here today. Thank god. I don't have to put up with him. That'll make things easier.

Jenna's not here either. I wonder why. But I guess it'll be nice to just have a day to get back into things, and not have to explain myself to anyone.

The day actually goes by quickly. Nothing good happened, but nothing bad happened either. It's something I could get used to.

I ride home. It'll be nice to be in my own home. I walk through the front door. I'm the only one here. I go up to my room. My sheets are still stained. I change them, stuffing the bloody ones under my bed. I flop down and relax for a minute. I feel like I'm in a cloud. Like nothing's real. I don't know if it's a good thing.

I hear the door open and close. Mike must be home.

I slide out of bed and walk downstairs. It'll be nice to see him again.

I reach the bottom. He looks at me.

"Hi," I say.

He stares at me for a minute, but then just goes back to unpacking his backpack.

I frown. Why's he ignoring me?

"Mike?" I softly call out.

He still won't look at me.

I feel my throat starting to close up. "Please Mike. Talk to me."

"Fuck off Vic," he says without looking at me.

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach, and that I might throw up.

He glances at me and scoffs. "Don't look so hurt," he mutters.

I'm very hurt. "Why are you mad at me?" I ask. 

"Because," Mike looks into my eyes. "You're an ass. You've made everyone miserable and pushed us all away. You made mom cry, and Kellin's been upset ever since you drifted away. You've fucking hurt everyone, and now you're out doing stupid shit. I have every fucking right to be mad."

I can't breathe. Again. This hurts worse than any beating Ronnie ever could've given me.

Tears sting the corners of my eyes. A few tears fall to the floor.

"You don't get it," I whisper.

"Don't get what?" he demands.

"Y-You just don't."

"Probably because you won't fucking tell me," Mike keep digging through his backpack. I don't even think he's doing anything with it anymore, he just doesn't want to look at me again. 

He's not yelling. He's just being very passive aggressive.

I stand here in tears. I can't move or say anything. I feel like I'm made of paper.

"Get the fuck over yourself," Mike says when he sees my tears.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly. I really do mean it.

"Shut up!" he finally loses it. "God, just go away! I wish you weren't my brother sometimes."

Take everything I've said about pain, then multiply that by ten. That's how that felt.

I draw in a sharp breath and stare at him. He looks back at me. I can tell he regrets saying it a little, but he doesn't say anything else.

I can't take it. I run upstairs. I can hear him start to say my name, but I shut my door.

I'm shaking and tears are pouring out of me now. Fuck.

Every time I think things will get better, everything's ripped away from me. Anytime I try to make things better, I fail. Miserably. Everything's terrible and I've had enough.

I rip a piece of paper out of my notebook. I write quickly, but I don't leave out a single thing. I tell everyone what's been going on, and why I've been a piece of shit lately.

Then I write a short will. I leave my guitar to Mike. The little money I have goes to Jonny, Kyle, and Travis. Jaime, Tony, and Oli can have my posters and merch. And Kellin... He can have my journals.
And Jenna? She already has my heart. What else does she need?

I take the paper and tape it above my bed. I then dig my blades and pills out of hiding.

I take all the pills I have. Then I take my blade, and I cut deep enough to bleed me dry.

Once I've reopened every single cut I've ever made, I put one of my favorite CDs in my player. I blast it.

I get some rope I've been keeping in my closet for a while, and hang it from my fan. I don't weigh much. It'll hold me.

I make a noose, and step up on my bed, putting it around my neck. No way I'll survive all this.

This is it. My final moments. Good riddance.

I think to how I signed my note. Only two words were at the end.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

I step off.

AN: im so sorry please don't kill me. And for the cliffhanger: oops?

I'm pretty sure there's only like one person consistently reading this so to that one person, thank you, ily, and I apologize