Before the Rain

Three: When You Say "I Need Help" What Exactly do You Mean?

You know what's strange? Dying feels a hell of a lot like living.

Everything was extremely muffled and the light blurring and apprehensive. Something is wrong here. There's too much to feel. I shouldn't feel anything, so why do I feel terribly bilious and most definitely alive?

I attempted to stand, raise my arms or anything but my body was paralyzed.

Fuck, I'm not dead.

And there I go again. Second attempt at suicide and I've failed. How must one be so lucky? How could perhaps a person whom wants to die more than anyone else consequently live?

And then there's the outcome of this all; my parents probably found me. They read the note, rushed into my room and found my unconscious yet unfortunately very much alive body lying amongst my rugs.

And then as most parents would do, flipped their shit, rushed their only dying son to the hospital, and here I lay, on a bleached bed: slightly inadvertent and most definitely alive.

I am able to make out a few of the things the people around me are saying. One in which being a voice that sounded much like the stranger Adam's. For some reason I expect him to be the most disappointed in me out of all of them. And this is partially what I wanted, some kind of daunting surprise and a terrible reaction out of him. I wanted him to come to his realization. I wanted an epiphany out of him, I wanted to feed off of his misery. Which in retrospect would be quite awful to do to someone, and I normally was not this malevolent at all. I actually considered myself to be altruistic and especially sensitive to most people. Even if their positivity was a bit unbearable, as Adam's was. However this was different, because he caught me (saved me or whatever), and he stopped me. He ruined my most permanent plans and therefore he put me here. I don't blame this entirely on him, in fact he was the one who literally stopped me from killing myself, yet I wanted to. I wanted my pain to be someone else's for once, and perhaps this is whenever I've gone too far.

Things would be different from now on; I will most likely be forced to live. Constantly being watched and making sure I didn't do anything they didn't want me to. Like kill myself again.

❧

A few hours past as I regained my consciousness, certain people coming and going. I knew my mother and father probably stayed the longest. I wasn't exactly sure about Adam, not that I really even cared. To be honest I actually wanted him gone by the time I would fully be awake. I didn't want to have to deal with his fucking attitude, or sympathy, I definitely didn't want his sympathy.

I opened my eyes slightly, my mother asleep on one of the chairs next to the bed. My father, probably getting food or something, absent. I glanced around the room slowly, the intake of light a bit harsh, as the temperature absolutely freezing.

I should be dead.

I stared down at the IV in my arm, finally able to move my fingers a little. My whole body also appeared to be twitching, something that would probably stay with me the rest of my life. That is if that's very long.

My mother stirs slightly from her sleep moments later, "Calvin! Oh nurse he's awake!"

An incredible guilt washes over myself as I've come to realize something else. I've caused them so much pain and stress, simply by trying to take away all of their pain and stress. An interesting turn of such tragic events. I assume they'll be "extra careful" and lock up all of the pills in the house make for sure there isn't any guns lying around. Perhaps I was living before after all, and this is what dying is: order and control. Never any self control though, that simply cannot be trusted.