The boy's friends were relentless.
"You gave a valentine to the dead girl?"
"You're in love with a suicidal freak?"
"Man, you are so desperate."
How could they say that to him? He was just trying to be kind. I was so angry, how could they treat him this way? Did they listen to the assembly about suicide prevention at all? In life, I had hated myself, but no one else ever said anything mean to me.
I hoped he would be okay.
I watched as over time he didn't hang out with them as much. He sat by himself and occasionally by Alyssa and my other friends. He still always visited my grave with her on Fridays- something his old friends teased him about as well.
He might have been alone most of the time, but at least he was away from the people that teased him.
What kind of friends were those anyway?
YOU ARE READING
After Suicide
Historia CortaWaking up after dying is the strangest feeling. I knew I had succeeded, the overdose was enough and no one was home to stop me or to realize what I had done until it was too late. But this morning, I opened my eyes, right before my alarm went off...
