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I jumped off a bridge.
No slashed wrists with a razor I called my friend, not a bottle of pills to go hand and hand with whiskey. I didn't even want to consider what swallowing bleach would do to my insides. Instead of even thinking, I just did it.
I didn't write any letters, didn't plan on saying goodbye. I went for a walk one day and in the midst of it, and wondered what would happen if I didn't come back. When I saw the bridge – pretty and tall, I leaned over, smelled the misty air. Then I pulled my black fleece sleeves up to my fingertips, climbed over the railing. I stood staring down, holding on.
Then I fell.
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Fragments
Teen FictionOne bridge. Two guys. Three secrets. Four therapists. Five attempts. Six months. Seven bad habits. Eight family meetings. Nine visits. Ten cuts. One death. Spiritual #4