a little collection

36

WARNING: This story does circle around suicide and mentions rape and sexual assault, if you have bad memories with such topics or can be offended or triggered by this, please skip this, I don't want to hurt anyone whilst reading this.

Three months. It's been three months since I lost my Emily. I still see her everywhere. I can still feel her, from our last night together. Her kisses still linger on me, I can still feel her hands roaming my whole body, and I can feel her hair tickling my nose.

"Yo, Gabe, are you okay? You're drifting again." Someone asks, and I absentmindedly nod.

I wish I had known. I wish I had known she was depressed, that she had tendencies. I wish I had come in sooner, I could see the fear in her eyes as she fell at my feet, dying from the pills she had taken.

She still lays in the hospital, clogged up with formaldehyde, because her family is still in too much pain to have a funeral.

I look up to find a police officer at the front of the room, pointing at me. My heart drops, and I suddenly grow nervous.

"Gabriel? You're wanted?" My teacher says, and I stand slowly, my head pounding.

Once we're in the hallway, the police officer assures me that I'm not in trouble.

"I just wanted to ask you some questions about Emily Parks, I've heard that she was your girlfriend?"

I close my eyes, nodding.

We find an empty classroom, and sit at two desks facing each other.

"First off, I'd like to share my condolences. I know how hard it can be to lose someone you've had feelings for."

"It was way more than just having feelings for someone, sir. I was madly in love with Emily, and I still haven't gotten over her death, for Gods sake she died right in front of me, how am I supposed to cope with that?" My voice steadily rises.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, but you're going to have to calm down." He says in a firm voice.

"First question. How long were you two together?"

"Two and a half years."

"Did she ever show any signs of depression and/or suicide in the past?"

"Sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"Some days I would have to physically drag her out of bed because she was so unmotivated, or she'd have a mental breakdown for what felt like hours. But most of the time she seemed like the happiest girl." And I shouldn't have ignored those signs.

"Now, I found this letter addressed to you in her room, and there is a time stamp, it was close to when she was proclaimed dead in her home." He pulls out a baby blue envelope, and I widen my eyes. I quickly reach for it, and my hands shake as I hold it, her neat handwriting written, "to the love of my life, Gabriel Tawny."

"Aren't you going to read it?" The officer asks, and I look at him.

"Not to be rude sir, but this is a letter from the girl I was in love with who literally died in my arms three months ago, and I'm not going to read it in front of you." Just saying that makes me want to crumple in a corner and cry.

"I understand. You're free to go, thank you for the questions."

I run out of the room and duck into a spacious janitors closet, clutching the letter to my chest, tears already forming in my eyes.

She wrote me a letter. I didn't hear of anyone else with a letter. Was I the only one, or did she write her parents?

When I finally return to class, everyone stares at the new object in my hands.

"What is that?" Everyone asks.

"That's none of your business." I snap, and they all turn away.

***
Once I'm home, I make sure I'm alone before carefully opening the letter.

I unfold it, and it's full to every margin with her words.

Gabe,

First of all, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm going to put you through all of this. I just can't seem to find my way out. You're probably going to wonder why I did this, or even if it was your fault. And I'm going to clear it up now, it was never. Your. Fault.

I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't bring myself to it, because it's so disgusting and awful, I couldn't put it into words. I was raped. By someone I thought I could trust. It was my best friend, Walter. I was trying so hard to fend him off, but he forced me down and just....did it.

This happened three months before today. Before last night, which was nothing but magical. I know it seemed weird to do that even knowing what happened before, but I trust you. I knew you wouldn't hurt me like Walter. I wanted to make that night special for you, considering that I won't be alive in a while. That's so weird to think about.

I want you to know that I love you. I love you so so much and I never want to forget you. You were like the sunshine in my rain cloud. You were never annoyed by my breakdowns, you always pulled me out of trouble. But I know by doing this, I'm going to hurt you worse than I ever could.

Please just know that I will always love you in every way possible, and I just want you to be happy. I just can't seem to climb my way out of this. He haunts me. Day and night. He's touched me, but never went further. But when you touch me, I almost pull myself out of it. But I look in his eyes, and he gives me this knowing look. As if I was his, but my heart will always be yours.

I'm sorry I'm doing this to you. I love you so much.

Love, Emily

By the end of the letter I'm sobbing, and I can't stop. I never noticed, I never saw him do such fucked up things to her, I never even saw any signs from her.

The memory from three months ago still burns in my head.

"Hey, Em! I got some Chinese and movies, do you wanna stay in tonight?" I call, jogging up the stairs.

I enter her room, where she isn't there, but her bathroom door is open. I step in, placing the Chinese food on the bed.

She stands at her sink, staring at her reflection.

"Em?" I look at the counter, where an empty bottle of pills lays on its side on the counter.

She looks at me, her eyes filled with fear and sadness.

"I'm sorry Gabe, I love you...." She falls to the ground, and I scream until my my lungs burn, sobbing harder than I have before.

I call 911, my voice so distorted they almost can't understand me. I hold her limp and lifeless body in my arms, crying into her hair, holding her in a bridal position as the paramedics swarm in, taking in the scene.

I throw my phone at the wall, denting the wall and smashing my phone, but I don't care. My dead girlfriend was raped and touched and I couldn't save her. I couldn't save her.

This doesn't have a happy ending but I don't care, I felt like doing something dark and depressing and I don't know why.

But I wanted to have anyone remember, there is always a way out, and the suicide hotline number is 1-800-273-8255, and they will help you.