Things Have Changed For Me

A Damn Note

So maybe I took this 'normal life' thing a little too seriously. I'm bored out of my fucking mind. This is probably the 17th day in a row that I've done absolutely nothing.

Here I am. Sitting on my couch reading some magazine that comes free with the rest of my mail each week. Something about clothing lines and new restaurants. I was in the middle of this ad for some new foreign movie when I got a call.

"Hey, this is Ana," I answered while shoving a few chips in my mouth. I think the crunching was a bit obnoxious.

"Yo, Banana! It's Sean! Remember me?"

I thought this was some kind of prank. It's been years since I've gotten calls from any one person from our group. "Sure. If this is Sean, tell me something only Sean would know," I told the other line.

It took him a while to think about what to say. "You call my mother Sean's mom," he said, snickering to himself.

"That's too easy."

"Fine. You got into a car accident right after leaving my house after Brendon called you about missing your little date. Are you pleased now?" Okay, so this really was him. I asked him why he was calling so late. And how he got my number, since I changed it my Sophomore year of college. "There's this really ancient device. It's called a phone book."

"Okay, Mr. Smart Ass. What do you want," I asked him, maybe a little too harshly.

Then someone knocked on my apartment door. "I need you to open the door," he laughed. I immediately ran to the door, nearly tripping over the table.

"Y-You're here. At my apartment. Sean," I yelled in excitement. "What are you doing here? And where's Jess? And have you talked to the others? And-"

He speed-walked over to my laptop and replied a little distractedly, saying, "I need to show you something. I've already told Jess. She's at our house up north. And I haven't talked to anyone since the day the band left." I took a seat next to him, and he turned the laptop so I could see the screen.

I studied the page a little. It was some contest for a certain band- Panic!. "Why are you showing me this." I didn't know if I was angry, depressed, or excited over the whole situation.

Yes, the contest was for the band. You'd go to their meet and greet, where a contest would be held. Whoever wins would spend a day with the members.

The thing is, I really didn't know if I wanted to go on with it. "How come you aren't looking as happy as I thought you'd be," Sean asked me, gently closing the laptop. I just shrugged, not really knowing what to say. He took my hand in his, and asked me if I still loved Brendon.

"I don't know. I think I do. I mean, yeah I do still love him. But I don't want to go there and have him not feel the same way about me. I just- I don't want to go back to the days when we were in high school. I don't want to be broken again." I looked down, not wanting Sean to see the tears forming in my eyes.

He lifted up my chin, so that he could look me face to face. "He'll never stop loving you. Even when he thinks he does, he won't. Coming from a friend, you've got to trust me on this one. Please. It's in 2 months, so you have a little time to think about it."

I told him that I would think about it, and he said that Jess had already agreed if I would go. Then, he left. Maybe I should have asked him if he wanted to stay a little before heading back.

I shut all the windows, doors, and blinds so that it was completely dark. I can't go back. I don't want to be broken. I don't want to be hurt. I just don't fucking know anymore.

You may think I'm overreacting. That I should just go along with the plan.

There's one thing you don't know.

It's takes a shit load of work to save yourself from falling. Hell, it's impossible.

•~•~•~•~•~•

It was nearly 3AM when my uncle called, saying that my mom shot herself a few days ago. He said he was sorry. That my brother wouldn't know until be got back from school in a few hours, and I shouldn't tell him myself.

She left a damn note. With my name in it. Saying she was sorry. She couldn't stand leaving us anymore. My dad was drunk nearly every night. She decided death was better than living.

She left a fucking note. What the hell is a note going to do after nearly 19 years? She's dead, and I feel sick to my stomach, but a note. A goddamn note.

I'm sorry, mom. Sorry, dad. Sorry, my dear brother. Sorry, my grateful uncle. Sorry, friends. Sorry, everyone. Sorry I've been such a fuck up.

This is it.

This. This is where everything starts falling apart.

This is when the days are darker.

This is when you are alone.

This is when no one can help you.

This is when the pills in the cupboard seem tempting.

This is when you tell yourself you need more sleep.

This is when you overdose.

This is when the room starts shaking.

This is when you start screaming.

This is when you collapse to the floor.

This is when you want to die.

'No matter what happened in the past, you've got to move forward.' Brendon Urie said this.

This is when the only people who can save you are the ones who want to stay away from.

•~•~•~•~•~•

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The noises get louder. More obnoxious. And the pain. It just grows until you want to rip your hair out.

I'd been lying in the hospital bed for nearly 3 weeks now, until they've finally let me go. And the hurt keeps getting more painful. It's not really the physical pain. It's the emotional one. That's the one you can't take painkillers for. You have to deal with it yourself.

Now, I must attend an "emotional care center", as they put it now, twice a week. In other words, they think I've gone crazy. That I can't control myself. They'll try to help me. But how can you help someone when you don't even know what they're going through?

My brother's been calling me nearly every day, checking if I'm okay. If I need anything. He's a sweet kid, and I feel sick knowing I'm putting him through this much stress. I've told him sorry, but he keeps denying I've done anything wrong.

So, all in all, I've decided to call Jess. And we planned that I'd fly over to her and Sean's house. Neither of them know what's happened in the past few weeks. Or at least, they haven't mentioned it yet.

Yes, I'm getting somewhat better. Maybe I can go on with my life, and forget the past. I can try, y'know. And isn't that worth something?

•~•~•~•~•

(A/N: Okay. Well, yeah sorry this chapter was a little shorter than the others. I didn't feel like I should continue it because of what had happened in this one! So thanks for reading everyone. I really appreciate it.)