Dear Jacky

5/4

Dear Jacky,

I hate you. I really do. I can't get over it. You left. You completely abandoned me. I'm writing this at three in the morning because I had a dream about you again. But it wasn't like every other dream of you. This time I watched you. I watched you kill yourself. All my other nightmares about you, it's just me coming back a little too late. But not this one. When I watched, I didn't just watch. I passed you the blade. I told you too. And I wasn't alone. I saw this little girl. Well, not little girl. She was about our age, maybe a little younger. But she was smiling and encouraging everything. She told me to pass you the blade and I listened. She told you to look in the mirror and talk to yourself. She told you you were ugly and you repeated. She said all these horrible things about you and you just repeated. Tears were streaming down your face but you kept a straight face and continued talking. She was telling you all these lies and you just repeated.

Then out of no where, you shook your head and began sobbing. You slid against the wall until you were sitting with your knees to your chest. You started screaming for me. You continued to call for me but I didn't move. I watched you bawl your eyes out and beg for me. You finally just stood up and ran to your room. I stayed where I was and looked at the girl. I heard you throwing things around and slamming down picture frames. I heard you gasping for air in between your sobs. I heard you run to your window and lock it. I listened to your feet as they ran down the stairs and locked every door in your house. I heard you come running up the stairs and stop to attempt to breathe through your sobs. You came back into the bathroom and closed the bathroom door. There was already blood dripping from your hands. I assumed you cut yourself throwing things around. You stared at yourself in the mirror and exhaled a shaky breath. You looked at the blade on the sink and then back at yourself. I knew what you were thinking before you even said it. I knew exactly what you were thinking. You mumbled a quiet, "I'm sorry, Danny." before you grabbed the blade and pushed it into your wrist. Deep. You stopped and stared at your reflection in the mirror. You watched tears stream down your face and tried to wipe them away, but instead, the blood from your wrists swiped across your face. You then started coughing and ran over to the toilet. You grabbed the toilet like it was the only thing keeping you from falling. I was screaming in my head. I was crying out for you, but you couldn't hear me. You couldn't hear my thoughts.

Your blood was dripping onto the toilet like wet paint dripping from the paint brush. Thick droplets of red dropped from the toilet to the ground overtime your body shook. You finished throwing up and flushed the toilet before walking back to the sink. Your eyes widened as you began repeating a regretful "no" over and over again. You ripped off the hoodie you were wearing, which I quickly realised was mine, and threw it to the ground. It was already splotched in blood around the sleeves. You started the shower and plugged the drain. The water began filling up as you grabbed the blade and looked in the mirror. You took a deep breath and whispered, "I'm sorry." as a single tear slid down your cheek. The blade didn't draw as much blood when you first sliced it upwards. I thought, maybe, just maybe, you didn't cut deep enough. But then it began slowly pouring out. You stopped crying. You were just emotionless and at that point, I knew. I knew you were numb. You felt no more pain. You felt no more sadness. You walked over to the bathtub and smiled. And it wasn't a fake smile this time. It was a real genuine smile. I haven't seen you smile like that in a long time. It made me smile too. I heard your thoughts. It was almost as if we were telepathic. I saw and heard your thoughts. You were remember all of our memories. Like when we first met. You were so nervous. And when I surprised you at David's house. You couldn't stop smiling as you stepped into that overflowing tub. You turned off the faucet and let your wrists continue to bleed out. The colour was already drained from your body. Blood was everywhere. But you were smiling.

And I was too.

You died happily. But also in pain. You died remembering. But the reason it was a nightmare was because of the fact that I realised you were dead. You had died in front of me, and I had helped. I began hyperventilating. I couldn't breathe. And the girl was laughing. She smiled and laughed. She was happy this had happened. She scared me, she really did. I wondered who she was to you. I tried asking, figuring my voice would most likely not be back, but it was. My jaw dropped in shock and I ran over to your lifeless body. I didn't hear any more thoughts. I didn't hear your breathing. I didn't hear your heartbeat. All I heard, was the girls laughter and my voice calling out for you to come back. And then footsteps. Loud, thumping footsteps up the stairs. I saw myself. "You're too late you idiot!" I yelled. I watched myself run right past the bathroom then stop. The girl had jiggled the shower curtain. She's the one that caught my attention. And then just like that, I was back to the day where I found you. I was in that point of view. I backed away from the bathroom, my hands covering my mouth, tears already falling down my face. I ran into the bathroom, not wanting to believe it, and then I woke up.

Jacklyn Morose, a part of me wants to believe that's how it happened. But the other part wants to believe that it wasn't that painful. It wasn't that traumatic. I don't know what to believe, Jack. But if that's how it went, then I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that you felt that pain. I'm so sorry you thought about me beforehand. I'm so sorry that I was just a few minutes late. I'm so sorry. I wish you never went through that pain. I hate that you went through any pain. But there is one thing I'm happy about. I'm happy you smiled before you died. I'm happy that, in my dream, you thought of all the good things we had. I'm happy you smiled real genuine smile one last time. I hope you did smile. I just wish you would've smiled for a different reason. For a better reason.

Until next time,

Danny