Letting go

Chapter 6 : Can

I walk through the door with my new knee brace and new high tech. ankle brace on. It's about 1:00 now and Luca isn't back yet. There's nothing to do. Because I can't do anything! I can't and that is a fact. I can't do anything. What's the reason to live when you can't do anything? I decide to write in my journal.

I'm going to leave. Forever. I'm going to go to someplace beautiful (hopefully). I won't be back or at least I don't think I will. I can't. Because I can't do anything. I can't live like this. I don't want to live. Life is like a bicycle , you need to keep moving to keep your balance. But I can't keep moving. I can't ride a bicycle. Does that mean I can't have a life? Does that mean that I'm stuck at this point in life? Because that's the best way to describe it. I don't have a point. I don't have a purpose. Because not only can't I. I also don't. I don't do this because I can't do that. I refuse to live like this. I refuse. I refuse to live. Is I guess what I'm trying to say. I'm not really sure why I'm writing this. I guess so the people that love me and the people I love will understand. Some people think that you should live for your loved ones and I know this is so selfish. But I just can't. I can't describe it. I guess I feel like I need to do this. Like Kurt Cobain said , It's better to burn out than fade away.

I leave it open on the coffee table.

I walk into the washroom and fill the sink with water.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale.

Exhale.

I submerge my head completely into the sink. My lungs fight it. Forcing me to hold my breathe. They'll soon stop though.

Just a minute or so more.

I hear footsteps.

The door opens wide.

"NATASHA!" Luca yells yanking me back by the collar of my sweater.

I cough and splutter in his arms.

"What the hell , Natasha!?" He screams at me.

"I can't" I croak.

"Can't what!?"

"Exactly" I choke out and point to the coffee table.

He walks over to the coffee table dragging me behind him as if he doesn't watch me I'll submerge again. He's always been a quick reader. When he puts the journal back down there are tears in his eyes and he sits down ad puts his head in his hands.

I can't do anything but stare.

Stare.

He finally looks up.

"That is ... Easily ... the most selfish , stupidest thing I have ever read!" He says.

"I ... I just ..."

"You just can't" he says mimicking my voice. "Well guess what? You can! You can , Natasha , you can! This isn't the end of the world ! This is just a small thick part of life! You can! There isn't a can't because you always can! Your special that way Natasha ! You , yes , you , you always work a little hard , try a little more , you never give up or quit or stop! You. Always. Can. There is no other way to put it!" he says half yelling. "You always could before. This terrible thing should never put you in this position where you would take your own LIFE ! There are people out there who are poor , starving , sick , orphans , homeless or surrounded by friends dying and they get through it! They do! Are they happy all the time? probably not! But that doesn't make them give up ! They try! I'm taking you to the psychiatrist right now!"

He walks in dragging me behind him.

"Is dr. Peter available?" He asks the receptionist.

"Yes but he has an appointment in 20 minutes"

"Well this is an emergency" he says walking away dragging me by the hand.

"What room is it?" he asks.

"2" I lie.

"Don't lie to me" he says.

We continue walking down the hall until he reaches door 6 , with the plaque that says Dr. Peter.

"I'm sure you'd love to see your patient who just attempted to drown herself in the bathroom sink right?" he announces as he let's go of me.

"Absolutely" Dr. Peter says with anger in his voice.

"Good I'll leave you to it"

Once he leaves , Dr. Peter tells me to sit.

"I told you to hold onto your religion"

"I did"

"No you didn't"

"Yes I did"

"Suicide is a sin"

"Besides that part"

"Your lucky he found you"

"Am I?"

"Yes you are"

"I wanted to die"

"Are you sure?"

"No"

"What if it had worked?"

"Then I'd be dead"

"This isn't a time for jokes"

Then Luca walks in again.

"Forgot to give you her journal. Which by the way has her suicide note in" he says glaring at me. Then he quickly leaves the room.

Dr. Peter must be an even faster reader because within a minute he puts the journal down. Looks up at me as he says ,

"You can".

"No I can't"

"What happened? Last time you were here you weren't this bad"

"I have a hairline fracture in my knee and ankle" I say pointing my braces. "And a bone defect in my ankle , a highly severe one which means I need surgery and lots of rest. And before I get the surgery I can't ski , bike , hike , snow mobile , do gym class and try not to move my knee and ankle a lot which basically means just kind of sitting around and I don't want to live like that"

"Your whole life isn't going to be like that"

Well what do I say to that? How come I didn't think of that before? Is that not the most obvious fact about my situation? What if I had died? Is there a Heaven? Is there a place after? What exactly does it feel like? What if it worked and went to Hell? What is Hell like? What is Heaven like? What if I just rot in my grave with no sense of self? What if I actually left Luca with someone else to mourn? Same as Tim? And mom? And dad? And Taylor's parents? Tim's parents? Is it possible to grow up in Heaven? Or Hell?

"I don't want to die" I manage just before I start to sob.

"Dr. Peter you" the receptionist hesitates when she sees me crying but continues , ignoring me "have another patient in 5 minutes"

"Thank you Debra"

She swiftly leaves.

"I ... I don't wanna ... want ... want to ... die ... die ... I don't wanna ..." I mumble as if having a break down.

Which I think I might be.

It's almost like I'm scared.

Scared of death.