Before the Rain

Two: I Can't Fit Into Your Scene But I'll Keep A Good Attitude

I had fallen.

Of course not literally, or else I'd be lying on the pavement, strung out even more than I previously was.

I had fallen deeper than I'd ever even imagined of going before. That was the somewhat curious way about this, the hospitality. It made me feel more lifeless. All of my panic stricken hope now gone, and the meaningless task of it all shattered.

Now I had to figure a way to get out all over again.

The stranger Adam, who'd I assumed expected some sort of undeniable thanks for "saving my life", stood at the edge of a flight of stairs. He stared back at me, most obviously concerned, and perhaps a bit annoyed that I just sat on his couch, staring back at him without a single word muttered. This silence was comforting to me, but as almost an immediate juxtaposition of destruction Adam pushed himself off the railing of the stairs to come sit in front of me.

"How old are you?" He asked, his attempt to hide his ineluctable solidity.

I glanced around the study in interest, ignoring his counterfeited curiosity. I know what he was trying to do; I'm not completely stupid. This was simply just another distraction until just maybe I'll forget what happened. Or I'll regret what I've done. But what this ignorant stranger does not know is that I've learnt to forget regret. I've said this line a thousand times, and it's the one principle I've upheld empathetically throughout most of my life. I was living for an ending, and some stupid kid whom scoops me up with his athletic-looking arms was not about to change that.

He sighed out of desolation, "It's okay if you don't wanna talk."

I crossed my arms over my chest, finally meeting his eyes. There was something oddly distracting about them, something warm. I hadn't meant to stare for as long as I did, but honestly, who fucking cares? What's he gonna do?

Adam smiled slightly, finally noticing my desperate confidance, "Do you want me to take you home now or, maybe we could go get some food or something?"

I stood up almost immediately, rage and an odd aggression rising inside of me, "Don't talk to me like that. Like I'm some child or something, stop it."

His eyes widened, "Oh, I'm sorry Cal. Do you want me to just leave you alone?"

I stared down at my watch, noticing the time for me to arrive home was extremely over due, "No, I need you to drive me home."

I didn't even care how belligerent I sounded, things have just gotten worse and now I've finally come to terms. I just needed to be alone to my own devices. This was perhaps exactly what I was hoping to avoid my entire life.

"Alright, I'll drive you home," he concided.

The terribly solicitous ride back to my parents' house further drove me to the very point of my insanity. Adam just kept talking, trying so desperately to distract from the very much apparent depressing reality. He was like that, extremely positive despite the odds. I hated it. Perhaps that was the one things that kept myself from believing that he was at least a bit attractive.

Of course there's nothing I'd do about it anyways. Relationships, especially at this age, always end the same way. Everyone is in pain. Why would you voluntarily give yourself added pain? That's something I definitely don't need, more pain. Also, not that I think my parents would be homophobic, but I wasn't exactly out with myself quite just yet. And as planned, I never should be.

"Next turn on the right, right?" He asked me brightly.

I rolled my eyes in slight disdain for his optimism, "Yes."

"So you never told me how old you are," he said suggestively.

I nodded, "Yeah I didn't."

He sighed in an almost defeated breath, "I'm twenty; I go to the University of Oregon, and campus is close to our house so I get to stay home which is fucking pretty sweet. Do you know where you want to go to college?"

I stare out of the window, wanting to break down already. I'm too far gone to even comprehend that of colleges and my future. I wasn't suppose to have a future. I wasn't even suppose to be alive now.

Much to my disintegration, he continues, "Of course it all depends on what you want to major in. I'm probably going to change mine to sociology but as of now it's marine biology. It sounded interesting at first, but I like figuring people out more. The human mind is really incredible, and everyone is different. I'd like to help people someday. People like-"

I interrupt him, "People like me."

And there it is: the whole fucking reason why he's doing this. He's "interested" in my depression. There people go again, always romanticizing something that is clearly not romantic at all.

In that moment I was fully prepared to jump out of the car, but of course my struggling survival instincts make myself wait until I get home. And most likely Adam would jump out of the car and catch me, being the fucking hero that he is.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with you, I just think you're upset," he counters.

I run my hands through my dark hair, "Did Matt bring the car to the right house?"

Adam pressed his lips together in a hard line, his patience trying, "Yeah, the address you sent him was right?"

I nodded, sinking a little lower in my seat. The one thing people didn't know about me; now he knows. Not entirely, because he's blinded by his own curiosity, but he knows what I tried to do. What I want to do. They're probably going to tell someone because they're "concerned" about me. And I won't ever get a chance, which is why it has to be tonight.

Adam pulls into my driveway with a few more words about how I should in fact tell someone, and that he wanted to help me. And maybe he might come by and check on me later on in the week.

I agreed only because I knew the amount of surprise and probably derision would drive him to finally realize what he actually wants to pursue. Maybe trying to save people from their own thoughts is simply too impossible and illogical. There's never a way out of your own mind, and I think the perspective of a therapist is a bit too hopeful and unrealistic.

I enter the house in a sort of peace way, my body feeling light and disarray. It was wonderful when the numbness took over, when I didn't have to think about anything but my very own death. I'd always seen death as a beautiful way out of things. Of course I'd be the kind of person to tell people not to kill themselves, yet I was gathering pills nonchalantly as I think of this.

My parents hadn't come home yet probably due to a dinner party I'd forgotten they'd attended. The sun began to set, as it does earlier in November. I collapsed onto the couch with the most dreadful smile on my face. This was it.

I dry swallowed a few pills of Acetaminophen just to make sure I'd be extremely asleep for this. Then a few minutes later I took about half a bottle of Oxycodone, in which was used for my father's back surgery. It had been a few months since he actually needed the narcotics, and much to my convenience never bothered to throw them out. I also decided to add vodka to the mix, just to make sure everything has gone down.

Right as I felt myself drifting off, I decided to write a suicide note. I hadn't thought of it originally, but for some reason, I felt it was necessary.

To whom it may concern,

It has been a long time since I've felt like myself, and as a result, I'm quite in fact become of myself right now. Things were never exactly in my favor, and I don't think they ever will be. I was literally no importance to anyone anywhere, and so I figured if it has been this way my entire life, what will make it different now? I know that my parents love me, and I know this is going to hurt, having your only son take himself away from you. And for that I am so sorry. But it's been too long without any difference, and for that, I think it's time for a change.

I set the note on the counter near the stove, and then proceeded to my room.

I fell on the floor rather violently, the immediate effects of the drugs and alcohol finally taking its toll, and for a second everything had stopped. All of the pain and emptiness. I think I finally felt the euphoria I was looking for. I took one final breath in before passing out completely.