A/N:
Before reading
This story deals with depression and suicide.
Please don't read it if you know it might be a trigger.
Appreciated
This is based on Halsey - Colors
Enjoy xxx
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I remember...
I remember the first day. I remember that first day. I saw you. You didn't see me. To me it felt like the world came to a stop. Like time froze.
As you walked past me, my time stopped but my heart raced. As your lean figure passed me, I knew I had to get to know you. No, needed to know you. I jumped off my barstool, threw down a couple of twenties and ran towards you.
I had it all planned out in my head. I'd walk into you by accident and pretend to fall and you will catch me and say some silly, cheesy pick-up line and I'd laugh and voila! Love at first sight. But looked like Murphy's law was out to get me that day.
As I was racing toward you, I didn't calculate the space between us, since you had stopped. And instead of stopping, I ran straight into you...
Instead of me falling, you plunged out of the bar doors and lost your balance falling into a puddle of water out on the street...
I felt so stupid. I really did.
I walked out and you were standing there soaking wet. That's when I took in your features for the very first time.
I saw your dark, mischievous eyes. I saw your slightly curved nose. I saw your full lips slightly parted from... anger? Or was that amusement?
You shook your arms to get most of the water off. "You did this, didn't you?" You walked to me and I felt scared. Maybe you weren't who I thought you were.
I moved back as you moved toward me. I felt a cold, hard wall behind me and cursed under my breath. You... smiled.
You came to a stop right in front of me and put your hands on either side of my head. A few drops of water splashed onto my face. I took in a breath. You even smelled good.
I closed my eyes. I heard you chuckle.
And then I felt your lips crash into mine.
At first, I was very surprised. Why would a guy I just basically 'pushed' into the street and soaked, suddenly kiss me? But then I thought. You didn't really seem angry when you accused me of pushing you.
I began kissing you back. I interlocked my hands behind your head pulling you closer to me. I needed you closer.
I broke the kiss. "How about we take this to a place more private? Hm? Mine or yours?" You kissed me again.
"I'm very dominant at my place, and I'm not used to doing girls I just met." You kissed me once more.
"So, my place." I giggled. You took my hands from your neck and interlocked our fingers. You hailed a cab. We got in, I told the cab driver my adress, and we immediately started kissing again.
When we got to my house everything happened so fast. We were barely through my front door when you were ripping your clothes off and you started fumbling with mine.
We kissed as I finally locked the door and we fell onto my bed...
***
I woke up and turned to see my clock. 02:39. I decided to get up and make me a cup of coffee.
I got to the kitchen and put the kettle on. I saw a piece of paper on the opposite side of the counter. I walked over and unfolded it. It read:
Dear Stacy,
This was fun. You were fun.
But I can see you are troubled in a way and you don't want to open up. I respect that. I don't want to change you at all, but if we see each other, I might try to. And I don't know if I would change you for better or worse or if I would change you at all. So I think it's better if we don't see each other again.
You really are one amazing girl. Don't ever forget that.
I'm sorry. Xx
Tears stained my cheeks. My vision was blurry. I sank down on the cold, hard kitchen floor.
A song's lyrics came to me.
"You were red and you liked me 'cause I was blue
You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky
And you decided purple just wasn't for you"
And now, here on the cold, hard kitchen floor, I almost forgot how you made me feel.
Almost.
But I remembered. I remembered that first day.
But because of you and what you did to me, I decided to turn black. I would just cease to exist. No one will miss me and no one would care.
I wrote a letter of my own:
To whoever finds this,
A boy broke me.
In the past my father broke me physically. Beating me until I couldn't see through my swelled up eyes.
In the past my mother broke me mentally. She would make everything bad that happened, my fault. If Daddy got fired, it was my fault. If Mommy had too many pills or had too much to drink, it was my fault. When Daddy killed Mommy and then hung himself, I was in such a routine that I was led to believe that my parents' homicide and suicide was my fault.
And now this boy broke me in the worst way possible. He saw me and he kissed me and he slept with me. And then he decided I wasn't good enough for him.
He broke me physically.
He broke me mentally.
He broke me emotionally.
I couldn't handle it any longer. I did this to be happy. I followed in Daddy's footsteps.
I hope you're proud of me now, Daddy.
Goodbye...
I put it in my jean's pocket and went to the balcony.
And I jumped...
