Mr. Smith

P a r t 9

For the past 6 months of my life I've tried battling with depression, and trying to make myself happier. I've moved in with my sisters, and gone to rehab twice. In this last month I've been making a music album. I have writers and musicians around me a lot now. All I've really done is proven how weak I'm. I gained weight, but lost it all from starving myself again. I'm a tall stick now. I'm afraid to go to a doctor, and my sisters never seem to be home to help me. I've accepted the fact that I need help, but now no one wants to help me. I'm on the same daily routine of two antidepressants every 6 hours. I've cut down on the alcohol. I'm not going to rehab again. It's torture. Everyone there are druggies, and then there's me. I didn't belong there.

I just miss smiling. I want to smile, and be happy, but something's keeping me back.

As of Justin, from what I've heard he went back to being that douché kid, but at a school in America now. Fuck him. He's the one who triggered the worst of my depression. I began to sob. All because I fell in love with someone who I knew wouldn't care about me. I knew it wouldn't last. He'd tell his friends we were in a relationship, and then I'd get in trouble.

I got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. I grabbed the bottle off the countertop. I read the label one last time. Antidepressants. I pulled the cap off the bottle and poured them out. About 20 tablets slipped all over the countertop. I gathered them together and grabbed a glass of water. I set the glass on the counter. The front door opened and was slammed shut. Mabel looked at me as she set her purse on the table in the entryway. She could see I was crying, rocking back and forth, trying to comfort myself. She couldn't see what I was looking at, until she walked forward. She rushed into the kitchen, "Sam...?"

"Mabel..." I said, my voice serious, "Either you're going to use..." I paused, my eyes searching, "This knife, and stab me," I said pulling a knife from a droor. "Or I'll swallow these pills. 2 at a time." I said breathing heavily. "Please..." I said quietly. I just wanted it over with. It's not that I wanted to die, but to end the suffering. "Sam, I'm not going to kill you." I bent over the counter. I sobbed even harder, "Please! Just please do it!" She shook her head. I picked up two antidepressants. Then, the glass of water. Mabel shuffled forward, before taking a full step. She knocked the glass out of my hand as I was about to put the pills into my mouth. Water splashed everywhere, and glass shattered. The front door opened again, as I started to cry into Mabel's shoulder. "I just don't want to be miserable anymore." I hadn't opened my eyes, but Lily spoke up, "What's going on?" She asked as she peaked around the corner, "he tried killing himself, again." Mabel answered. I felt bad to put her in that situation. Suddenly I had a flashback from when I was 13.

-

I had just gotten home from school, so I threw my bag into my room. I ran into the bathroom. Stranded sobs came from my mouth. I had just been beat up for being openly gay. I had a bruised cheek, and a cut on my arm. I ran the bathtub full of water to cover my cries. I heard the front door open and figured I'd better do it now, or I'd never get away with it. I locked the door, and took my shoes off. I looked at the clock. 3:17. I'll always remember that time. The time I thought I was going to die. I slipped into the bathtub and emerged myself into the water. My mother knocked on the door, as she had just picked my little sisters up from primary school. I hadn't answered and she called my name. After that she pounded on the door. She became furious and tried opening the door. I could hear Lily and Mabel, "Mommy, what's going on?" She shoed them away and I could hear her sob into the phone, "I think my son is trying to kill himself." The heartbroken tone in her voice made me think harder about what I was doing. I ignored the bleeding thought of my mother sobbing into my casket at my funeral. After minutes of trying to position myself into the water, I finally got comfortable. And submerged my face in the water. I had been thinking of a white space, where I didn't have to live this life anymore. I didn't have to face bullies, but it all ended when someone erupted through the door. Pulling me out of the water were strong masculine hands. I breathed heavily as I looked at the man. A perimedic held in his arms, an innocent little 13 year old. In the distant heart beat I had, was covered up by my screams, my screams of death. I had faced death before. I just hadn't remembered it, I was too young.

-

I focused back into my eyes. Lily had sat down now. She contemplated on calling for an ambulance, but she knew it wouldn't help with anything. "Sam, you've already tried this before. You know it's not going to work, so why keep doing it?" Lily asked standing as she was about to clean the floors. "I just don't want to suffer anymore!" I sobbed as Mabel moved her hand from my back to my neck. "Sammy, what about if we try and get you out of the house?" I shrugged my shoulders, "What the hell am I going to do?" Lily slammed her hand on the table, "I am fucking tired of you attitude. All you do is find the negatives in your problems. That's why you're so depressed!" She yelled at me. My mind was cleared. That's all I do. I look towards the negatives. "Lily! That's it!" I said excited, as I wiped my eyes full of tears. She looked at me. No expression on her face. "It took you that long to figure that out?" Mabel asked both of us. I hadn't answered, and neither had Lily. "Please, Sam, just no more antidepressants..." Lily said to me. I nodded, "I'm ready to make a change."

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Sequel up soon!