A Selection of Monologues and Short Stories

Helpless

Walking away, I feel guilt ripple through me. I've hurt her. I know I have.

This isn't what we're about. We're so close, practically like sisters. Although the both of us have one of those already! 

We talk and we rant and we cry and we hug and we laugh and we lean on each other. We draw strength from each other. We pull each other through the fire and out the other side.

Today though. Not today. 

I just couldn't. I couldn't deal with today. I can't keep doing this. I know I have potential. I know I have a passion and a talent and am capable of reaching where I am aiming for. But I cloud my own judgement. I read into things. I think and act irrationally. I work myself up into a frenzy, and panic. I lose my way and lose sight of what is important and what is not. I prioritise the wrong things thinking they're right. I unnecessarily compare myself to people constantly. I convince myself that I'm awful and a failure and a mess and not worth anything or anyone. I convince myself I'm not worthy of living. That I was created by accident. That I will never succeed at anything. 

Why do I do this?

Walking away from Rhi was a mistake. I know all she wants to do is help. Just like I help her when she spirals out of control and needs someone to pull her back down and plant her feet back on solid ground. She was just trying to do that today. I should have let her. I should have said everything to her. I should have told her the truth. I should have, I should have, I should have...

She hates me. I can feel it. She's angry at me and won't ever want to talk to me again. Not after tonight. Not after the way I just left her. Not responding when she called out to me.

She's never going to want to see me again. 

I've lost her.

I've lost her.

I've lost her.

I can't face her. I can't tell her. I can't explain to her. I can't begin to explain why I walked away tonight.

I can't just pretend nothing happened. 

I can't just ignore her. 

I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

I can't do this anymore.

I find myself walking away from our house. Our little box of warmth and cosiness and safety. 

I walk to the water, the beach. Its not far from us here. I walk. I walk and I walk and I walk. I let the breeze coming from the sea whip my hair into knots. I let the wind blow through me, calming me, cooling me off. I breathe it in. 

It's only when I reach the beach that I realise I've been crying, my cheeks stained from the salty mascara. I sit down on the wall, resting my briefcase full of designs and sketches beside me. My feet hang, the sand a couple of inches below. 

I close my eyes, and just let myself go. Let myself float out on the breeze, taking my tension and anxiety away.

I'm not sure how long I sat there for.

I move eventually when the cold starts working its way up my toes, leaving numbness behind. I walk back to the house. 

When I get back, Rhi isn't home. Her shoes aren't by the door, her coat not on the hook. 

I knew she wouldn't want to see me again. I knew it I knew it I knew it.

I drop my things, kick off my shoes, and go to the bathroom. I lock the door, and run a bath. I watch as the water fills the tub. Steam floating off of it like a mug of tea. 

I strip off, and step in, feeling the heat of the water instantaneously thaw my numb extremities.

I know my head was in an irrational place. I know I should have just rung her right there from the bath. I should have just rung her and apologised. I should have just said what has been on my mind for ages. 

The guilt of not telling my best friend the one thing that I know she would be able to help me with the most, was the thing that killed me.

As the bath water turns red, I feel the depression seep out of me and swirl around me in the warm water. I feel light, and uplifted. I'm ready. 

How was I to know that when she finds me clutching the razor 2 hours later, that she would do the same, laying on the bathroom floor, surrounded by her own depression?

How was I to know that she has needed an outlet just as much as me, for as long as me?

How was I to know that me leaving for good would be the thing that hurts her the most?

The thing that kills the both of us.