in too deep.

short story..

This society is a mass of perfectionists filled with imperfection. A forest of depression, arm in arm with anxiety. A sea of swirling insecurities mixed with fear. And, all of them linked causing a darkness hiding the most serious slit in society's skin – suicidal thoughts.

Yes, the silent screams. So loud but never heard.

I heard them.

Because, she showed me how.

I should've known, really. I should've listened to her and I should've believed her. No one could ever take her place, I told her that night over FaceTime. I told her that I could never forget someone that took up so much room in this fucked up heart of mine. Why didn't that stop her? Maybe she didn't hear me through the sounds of me breaking down over the phone.

Chelsea started off with a silence. It was noticed by everyone, but that wasn't enough for her. She didn't just want to be noticed. She wanted to be heard. She wanted to be recognised. She wanted to be understood. That wasn't too much to ask, was it?

Apparently it was.

Jeez. Chelsea showed so many signs, she did warn us all but no one listened to her. They just said what assumed was true. Well, clarification to all of you arseholes out there that believe every single gossip you hear – it's all bullshit, because Chelsea didn't cut herself in obvious places. She did it in her knicker line and under her bra and on her feet. She only slit her wrists in the winter; no one would see and it hurt more on her wrist. She didn't use scissors; she used a pocket knife so she could press deeper. Remember that rumour that spread in less than an hour? That she slept with some sixteen years old? That wasn't true, and you all knew that but, you chose to believe it so you could hurt her even more.

How can you not feel guilty?

You caused someone to end their own life because of how much pain they were in.