Connor's POV
I want to die. I want to die. I want to die.
I scribble these works again and again across every page in my notebook with a dull red marker. Tears run down my face as the marker bleeds when my tears hit the page. The paper under me has turned into a smudged, wet mess, but I continue to write. I have never felt this way towards myself before. I have never wanted my life to end more that I do now. I won't end soon enough.
"Connor!" Mom calls. "Dinners ready!"
"I'm busy!" I scream, choking on my tears.
Zoe barges into my room a few minutes later. "Connor, Mom told me to bring you your food."
"I don't want it." I mutter, continuing to scribble down those words on my paper.
"She told me to leave it here." Zoe says, putting the plate on my desk.
"I said I don't want it!" I yell, standing up.
I trip over the leg of the chair, slamming my head down on the hardwood floor. "Fuck! Ow..." Winded by the fall, my words come out short and choppy.
I hear Zoe laugh at me and I grab the closest thing to me and throw it at her. "Fuck off!"
"Jesus Christ Connor." She mutters, slamming the door behind her.
I push myself up off the ground, grabbing my box of cigarettes and lighter and storming out of the house. I can hear Mom calling me but I ignore it. As I walk my rage turns into tears, which fall softly down my face. The tears that slowly roll down my cheeks are the only calm thing in my life. It's as if my own pain is mocking me.
I walk all the way to the old orchard, climbing over the fence to get in. I find the tree my family used to picnic under. This is the one place that makes me semi happy. I put the cigarette into my mouth, lighting it, leaning against the tree. I think back to a time when I was happy. Zoe was just a toddler then, I was still a young child. I would playfully chase Zoe around the orchard, we'd play tag and climb trees together. Or we would hide under the picnic blanket and eat all the sweets while we played with my Spider-Man action figure and her Barbies.
I hear a loud thump from behind me somewhere, interrupting my thought. "Who's there?!" I yell.
I start walking towards the sound. Eventually I see someone on the ground and I run to them. "Holy crap dude. Are you okay?" I say, kneeling down. It's Evan Hansen... The boy who sits in the back of homeroom that never talks... I had always known he had some amount of depression or anxiety but I never thought I could've been this bad... assuming he had just tried to kill himself that is. You don't just break into an orchard and fall out of a tree by accident...
"Y-yeah... I'm f-fine..." he says, pushing himself up and leaving against the tree. "W-Wait... Connor... Murphy?"
"Yes. What of it."
"N-nothing... I just didn't expect you to be here... I-I didn't think anyone would be here..." he mutters, staring down at his hands.
"You okay?" I ask, putting out my cigarette on my shoe and shoving the unlit butt into my pocket.
"Y-yeah... I can't really feel my arm though..."
"So you aren't okay then."
He shakes his head.
"Come on. I'll get you to the hospital." I grab the collar of his shirt. "If you tell anyone about this I swear to god I will beat the shit out of you." I help him up and back over the fence and to my house. I go back inside, grabbing the car keys and going back out to the car. "Get in."
