new things (jalex short story)

3

Maybe having constant thoughts of suicide was something everyone went though at least once in their lives. I think I'm just at that point in my life. None of it is like I want attention, the closest I've come to getting attention over recent thoughts was when I ran out of English in the middle of what felt like a panic attack after the stress of trying to do my inclass work came too much and caused me to have one of my biggest freak out moments.

The thought of me being happy on my own was probably just so sickening to myself that I didn't even realize a lot of my bad thoughts and moods were about ninety seven percent my fault. As I walked off the bus at my stop, I noticed Alex walking in front of me. I called out to him causing him to turn around and look at me before smiling.

"You live near here?" He asked. He stopped walking so I could catch up then when I did we moved along side each other in a somewhat happy conversation. I found my brain quite weird when I could go from having a massive freak out to being able to talk to the person I was crying my eyes out in front of in such a happy manner.

We said goodbye to each other as we both came to a stop out the front of his house. We agreed on exchanging phone numbers and did so just before he skipped inside his house. I stood there for a few seconds more than necessary and continued walking at a slower pace than was probably needed. Although when I got back home I was probably going to be having the same thoughts I had all day and maybe I might be unable to resist them. I couldn't see why that would be such a mad thing other than the fact I haven't thought of an answer to my question of where would I do it?

If I want to do this just once- and only once- I don't want people seeing and fucking it up for me. Because then it would become a problem and I didn't need teachers finding out and telling my parents. And I definitely didn't want to talk to a shrink. That was probably the least of my problems though. Because these thoughts just continued to become increasingly more dangerous and I didn't know how I felt about it.

As I finally reached my house I walked straight to my room and got into bed. It'd only been about twenty minutes since I had said goodbye to that cute brunette but I kind of missed talking to someone. That problem was solved right away as i received a message.

What was that about in English? I assumed you couldn't talk in that state but how are you? He tried to sent a nice message asking what's wrong but still trying not to cross any boundaries. Which he had accomplished.

I was just overly stressed. I'm quite impressionable by stress. Sorry if I annoyed you by ignoring you or worried you. I really didn't mean to. But thanks for being there.

I sent it through and placed my phone on my chest. I had found some sweatpants and removed my shirt in an attempt to find some comfort. After a few short minutes I received his reply.

Nah, it's okay. Ive had worse from people at my old school. You're a saint in comparison. Thanks for showing me around by the way.

We just continued to have a useless conversation for the better side of an hour. I thought that doing so would distract me from my endangering thoughts. But then he eventually had to go to have dinner with his family. Which had me realize I hadn't eaten a proper for nearly two days. I made a mental note to have lunch tomorrow.

Finally an answer popped into my head as I thought thighs. I guess that would be a good enough spot. I just wanted to try it. And its not like anyone would see, I always wear jeans and I've got no one who wants me to take them off. At least not anymore.

At least that dilemma was solved. Now at lest if I did continue to think like this I'd know what to do. And use. Thanks to my mother for being oh so organized, I have an abundance of spare razors. Not that I need them because my face still thinks it's 9 years old. Minus the baby fat. I put away my phone and tried to sleep. I could slowly feel myself falling into a sleep. But I knew it would only be a short lived nap.

When I woke again, I checked the time on my phone, the bright lights boring into my eyes in the most painful way. I managed to read it as 1:27am. Usually I'd sleep all through the night undisturbedup until at least four. I recall having somewhat of an uncomfortable dream, whatever that even meant.

I slowly sat up and made my way to the bathroom. Needing to pee so badly. Afterward, I looked at my reflection in the mirror as I washed my hands. My dull eyes looking right though the mirror and into nothing. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I felt extremely depressed. More so than I had previously, somehow that was possible. Without even thinking, I went into my drawer in the cabinet and took out a spare razor, looking at the sharpness of the small silver blades. Wondering what they'd feel like against my skin.

I guess there's only really one way to find out. Nows good a time as any right? I half heartedly agreed with myself as I struggled to break open the head of the razor, then picked up the flimsy piece of metal close to my face examine it. It was quite thin, I wonder if it'd actually do anything. I decided to test it on the back of my hand, after which deciding it wasn't that bad, I tugged my sweats down a bit before sitting down on the edge of the bathtub. I took in my skin, currently flawless. Soon to be sliced.

I said 'fuck it' to myself and dug the blade into my leg, dragging it across. I felt an instant release, and from that moment on, I knew I was absolutely fucked.