Ray's Rainbow Camp

Chapter Fourteen, Suicide And Confide,

(Very heavy and sad topic matter, also some strong language.)

Sirena's POV

When I woke up the next morning, I thought it was going to be a normal day. Ray and I would have a breakfast of eggs, bacon, and pancakes, then go out and help out around the camp. She would usually go talk to everyone who ran the little things, there's a therapist for every cabin now, and the cafeteria has a bigger staff, so people like them. But like I said, today wasn't a normal day. I woke up to the sun shining on my face from the large window in my room, which really was the only thing normal about this day. The first thing I did was, of course, grab my phone from my nightstand and look at my current news. Instead, I saw hundreds of texts from Roxanne. 

Unknown Number: It's me, Roxanne! I need your help! Phoenix is dying!

Unkown Number: Please, I know I was a bitch! She's dying! Help me!

Unkown Number: HELP ME PLEASE

Unkown Number: There's blood everywhere, she seems so lifeless, I can't breathe.

Unkown Number: Please.....I don't know how to handle this.

Unknown Number: I called the police, she's in the hospital. I haven't slept.

Unknown Number: They put her in the emergency ward, she's asleep and breathing. She's alive.

Unknown Number: I can't believe you! You don't respond to texts about your ex-lover or whatever tried to kill themselves! You're one sick mother fucker!

Unknown Number: I'm sorry, I just realized you could be asleep...

Unkown Number: I'll send you the address of the hospital if you want.

Unknown Number: Please text me back!!!!!!!!

I cry out in fear, in pain, in anguish. This is all my fault, all mine! I'm the reason she did this! Because I rejected her, all because I knew that her fame was going to break us apart. 

Ray's POV

I was casually chatting up our secretary this morning about how many of each gender, sexual orientation, and ethnicities we have at this camp. She was astounded at the number of African American's there where here because they were treated so badly by society anyway. Seventy-five percent of the population in this camp is African Amercian, which is bigger numbers than most other orphanages, who would probably treat them horribly like most orphanages treat people of color. Then I heard Sirena's scream. I know it very well, she screams about spiders all the time. But this was different, this was more horrid and defining. 

I raced up to the room as fast as I could. I swung open the door, expecting to see a murderer or a tarantula, but instead see Sirena's expression while she stares at her phone. Tears trickle down her face, she looks so afraid, so confused. She falls back onto her bed, letting her phone drop onto her comforter. I pick up her phone gingerly and look at the screen. I scroll through the texts, gasping, heart racing one hundred miles per hour. I know what Sirena's going to say, so I sit down on the bed next to her and pull her into a huge hug.

"This is in no way your fault Sirena," I say, trying to keep my voice even, but it falters when I say her name, "She probably just has a lot of stress right now with college!"

"No," Sirena sobs into my shoulder, "Yesterday I told her we couldn't be together because her fame would tear the relationship apart. I never got to tell her why I said no, I just ran..."