It Ends In A Second

Part Nine: Just a Bully

"Never give up, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn."

-Harriet Beecher Stowe

Trigger Warning: Suicide Guns Drugs

Word count: 1472

PART NINE: JUST A BULLY ✓

By the time I was nine, I knew I was gay, but nobody else did. My parents, friends, teachers..Nobody knew, and I wanted to keep it that way. I wanted to stay in the little bit of comfort the metaphorical closet could give me.

By the time I was 12, My grades were slipping. My friends began to smoke weed and drink, and I-stupidly- followed along.

By the time I was 14, my youngest sister was diagnosed with cystic fibrosis. Deadly. And treatments were expensive. She was perfect for it, age, immune system. I started selling drugs and all sorts of illegal things. I broke into homes, robbed, and I almost killed. My mom didn't ask where the money came from, and neither did my dad. All that mattered was she got her treatment.

I would lay in bed at night, listening to my sister coughing up a storm. I remember falling asleep to the sound of her sniffling, and found it soothing that she had lived another day.

By the time I was 16, she had died. Instead of dropping out of the drug ring when it happened, I got worse. I knew it was bad, but I couldn't stop. I wanted to stop it. I wanted it to slow down, time was going too fast, I couldn't keep up. Soon, I'll be an adult. Soon I'll be dead.

My fears, one by one, became my reality. My parents didn't check in on me after school like they used to, and my grades slipped even further. I became the kid I hated just a few years ago. Bullying, smoking, drinking. And for what? So I could forget about my sister? So I could become popular? So I could go nowhere in life?

"Xavior! Have you been paying attention?" Mrs. Brooke asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"No." I say leaning my head against the wall. Chuckles smothered with fake coughs filled the room at my blatant response to her.

"Well then why don't you walk to Mr. Webster's office? I'm sure the principal would like to know why." I sling my bag over my shoulder and slam the door as I walk out. Fifth period was about to start.

Gym. The most dreaded class of almost everybody- Especially in this heat. But I had an excuse now ... Poor Mr. Webster. Always having to deal with me. I wish I could just end it all. Just leave school and be high all of the time. At least then I wouldn't have to worry about anything. I wouldn't have to remember her smile, or the little scar placed just above her left eyebrow that became more prominent when she laughed.

"Xavior! What a surprise?" Mr. Webster jokes. I sit down in a blue bean bag chair and pull out my bubble wrap.Furiously popping bubbles, I ignore his attempts at conversation.

"Look, I don't need to be here, so if you could just let me go home, or to the counselor's office that would be great." I say looking out the window. He opens his mouth to say something but the alarm system goes off. Loud beeps ring throughout the school, and he jumps out of his seat.

"Stay here. I'll be back soon. Don't open the door." He says, clipping his walkie talkie to his belt. "For anybody." I scoff and roll my eyes. Mr. Webster gives me the look as he steps out of the door. I wait until the jingle of his keys is distant, then out of hearing range. I crack the door and peep into the hall.

All clear. I shut the door behind me carefully, and slowly turn the corner, I step into the hallway. Just a few meters until the bathrooms. I pass the gym and go into the guy's locker rooms, where I know my buddies will be jovial and talkative about somebody's short skirt.

I pass the girls locker room, and the gym entrance, and finally I reached my destination. Loud blips were still echoing through the school as I pulled at the door. Locked. That's strange- it's never locked. I think to myself. Where do I go now?

I turned on my heel and walked towards the bathrooms, three hallways away. Almost to the closest bathroom, A loud shriek pierced my ears. The beeping stopped. Silence ensued. Maybe this was a real thing. Panicking I sped up to a brisk walk, almost jogging. Almost there. Just a few more meters.

"Where are you going? The fun hasn't even started yet." I turned to see the sick smile of Wesley Maslow, the man I've had a crush on for so long, pointing a gun in my face.

"Listen, Wesley, you don't have to do this, you can put the gun down, and we can go ge-"

"No!" He seethes, "We aren't going anywhere."

"What do you mean?" I ask, beginning to shake slightly.

"You can leave whenever, but I can't. I want you to remember this." I began to panic, What was going on? "Do you remember Sophomore year, when you were in and out of school, trying to care for your sister? Yeah I remember her. I also know that around then you started picking on me, teasing me." a long pause. "Bullying me. Long gone was my best-friend. Well-" My breathing became uneven. My breaths shallow. I was the reason this started. I am the reason for all of this? "Well- I'm tired of this. I'm tired of everything. Now that you know," He held the gun to his head. I ran to him. Pushed him. But he looked into my eyes, and pulled the trigger.

I dropped to my knees. "No no no. No!" I yell. Tears filled my eyes and I held my shaking hands to his head, desperately trying to keep the blood inside,. Bbut there was so much. I couldn't keep it in. I gently rocked him back and forth, cradling him to my chest. Cops ran into view, but I wouldn't let him go. They tried to pull me off of him, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't let go.Not now. Not ever.

But when I returned to school a few weeks later, wearing the hoodie he gave me just before we stopped being friends, I guess my secret got out. They all knew. They all laughed as I walked by. They all whispered. They all pointed. I wanted to scream out 'This is how your friends died!' but I couldn't. Because I was the reason their friends died, not them.

I'm sorry that you have to lose another child. I'm sorry about this. But I'm in so much pain. Please forgive me.

I posted it on Facebook, and printed the paper. With a few silent tears, I set it on my parents' dresser. I slowly shut the door, and made my way to the bathroom. Shuffling through the cabinet under the sink, I found the razors. A Crack! Was heard as I stomped on the colorful plastic and pulled the blade out.

I set the bathwater warm, almost burning, and undressed, but left my boxers on. I folded my clothes and set them on the shelf in the corner. The last thing I remember was drawing the blade across my scarred wrists. Biting down on my football t-shirt, my cries of pain were muffled, but it was nothing compared to what I felt inside. It was a distraction, a relief almost.

Maybe if I could remember what happened later, I would have told you about the ambulance, that was hours too late. I would have told you about the impassive look on my mother's face, and the silent tears on my dads. Maybe I would've hugged them, told them it was going to be alright. Maybe... Maybe I could've stopped kids from bringing guns to school. Give them a person to talk to. A friend. Because sometimes, that's all you really need.

_

_

_

A/N:

Pretty intense chapter. Sorry :( This was my absolute favorite chapter to write (because it was so sad), so I hope you enjoyed it. Only one more chapter to go! How do you think it'll turn out? Who's your favorite character? How do you feel about Wesley? Can you relate to any of these characters? 

Anyway, I wrote this chapter because I feel that being bullyed is so common, we turn away from it. We say 'it's just teasing' or 'He needs to toughen up- it's good for his character' but maybe we should stop victim blaming and find out why bullies are bullies. Anyways...

Please comment, vote, and share. <3

-Lila