That Little Letter

Chapter Seventy Eight

'Dear Dove,

I can't stop. These things are getting too hard for me, Dove. My father checks in on me once a day, but then he leaves me alone to rot. I hardly eat, I hardly speak, and I hardly move. There's no more motivation. Maybe things were meant to come to this. No one is here for me anymore.

Dove...I just need your opinion. Just your simple, honest, opinion.

Would you care if I disappeared? Would you try to figure out what happened or what caused it? Or would you pretend I never existed, that I never mattered?

I hope you can answer whenever you get the chance, Dove.

Max.'

Max stared emotionlessly at the screen in front of him as he read over the questions he wanted answers for. It was slowly chewing his mind from every edge, every corner. He wanted to know what she would do...if she still cared. 

Something inside of him wished she would email him and try to calm him down. Whenever they talked, it would help him. But now, nothing was helping. His father cared less and less about him and now the love he once had was ignoring him and taking him out of her life.

Maybe it was what it had to come to.

As blood ran down the arms he was stuck with, he stared at the screen. As that blood dripped onto his black bed sheet, he stared at the screen. As his tears developed in his eyes, he stared at the screen. As a single tear fell from his right eye, he erased the message.

And then it was blank.

And then it was thrown.

And then it smashed into the wall.

And then it cracked.

All as the blood ran down his olive skinned arms.

All as the tears from his eyes fell onto his tank top.

All as everything in his mind collapsed.

He glanced toward his bedside table, and there was two bottles of advil. He wasn't sure if it was enough to kill him. He wasn't sure how much he should take. Before he thought much more of it, he grabbed the half full bottle and a glass of water. Then, he popped five pills into his mouth before swallowing them down with a big gulp of the room temperature water he had in his room for the past two days.

He continued to do that until the bottle was fully empty. Nothing was in it. However, nothing felt different. His mind was still calm and his stomach was growing full, but besides that, nothing changed.

It was when he finished a third of the second bottle when he decided to stop. He closed the bottle and put the empty glass on the table. Then, he closed his eyes and rested on his bed.

Maybe he'd get a good sleep.

Maybe finally, he wouldn't have to worry about tomorrow.

Maybe finally, life would be better for him.

Or maybe...he was wrong.