What If I Jump?

Mason

I knew I should spoken up the moment I picked up on the signs. I could've been the voice that she didn't have.  My concerns increased when she grew distant. I made high efforts to talk to her, but her isolation and depression only worsened with time. It was the time that I had found an old suicide note crumpled on her bedroom floor that terrified me. It was any sane person's nightmare. Afraid of the situation, I tried to handle things on my own for her protection. 

I confronted Ella face to face in the best way that I could. As her older brother, I felt like I had a duty to help her when others could not. The day after my discovery of the note, I bumped into her while she was walking back to her room. "Hey, Ella?" the words came unconsciously. "Yes?" she squeaked, eyes peering up from under her bangs. "Are you okay?" I knew she wouldn't answer honestly but this was the only way that I could think to try to handle things. "Yeah," she said as she plastered a fake smile on her face. She turned to go back to her room and I followed. Feeling awkward, I stood in the doorway and waited for her to look at me again. 

"Ella, you've grown really distant. I'm worried" I fumbled over words and tried to organize my thoughts in a way that made me seem less intimidating to her.

"I've just been busy with school," she replied and dismissed me. Her eyes shifted away immediately and found the textbook beside her. I could tell that she felt awful for lying to me but in a way, I understood how some things are too painful to talk about.

Years before, Ella would cling to me; she was my only friend up until I turned fourteen. She would come to me for protection on the nights that our father was drunk, arms wrapped around me like her life depended on it. In some cases, it did. He had always been aggressive, seeking out fights and arguments. After he started drinking, he would take out his anger on Ella. Frankly, our parents' marriage had been falling apart for years, and that's mostly the reason that our father began drinking. He hated Ella because he hated our mother. They looked so much alike until she started dyeing her hair and hiding behind hoodies. In a way, it was for the best. It was for her protection.

About a year ago is when this all began. Our mother had made her initial request for a divorce; she planned to leave us with our father. That night was the first time Ella showed signs of depression. We sat at the dinner table with our mother in complete silence.  Our father had went to a local bar. Ella pushed her plate away and quietly walked to her room. It felt awkward to sit alone with my mother since Ella had always been there to accompany me, but I didn't move from my spot. I cleaned my plate, got up, and made my way down the hallway to check on her. "Come in," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. I pushed the door open to find her laying in bed, sheets pulled over her head. "Are you feeling alright?" I asked, scared to touch her. "I'm fine," she claimed as her voice cracked. I gently tugged the sheet off of her head and brushed  her hair out of her face. There wasn't much I could do other than sit there, so I waited. Soon enough, our father came home. From Ella's room, the fight could be heard. Glass was being broken, screaming and crying was muffled through the walls. I locked the door and waited for the tears to stop and her body to quit trembling. Once it had passed, she fell asleep. I placed a gentle kiss to her tear stained cheek and covered her back up before sneaking to my room to avoid any trouble.

That night, my thoughts were scattered and left me restless. I wanted to help her and be the hero that she needed but at the same time, I felt just as helpless as she did. I worked out a couple of ideas to try to get her some help. I used my phone to apply for jobs. Maybe if I could make some money, she could see a therapist. Or maybe if we left the house together more, the both of us could bond and avoid the trouble that waited for us at home. I thought about going to our school's guidance multiple times, but they were notorious for not giving a shit about students. Even if I did go to them, the most they'd do is call our parents and get Ella in trouble. Hell, they probably would've passed it off as a phase...