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"Killing oneself, anyway, is a misnomer. We don't kill ourselves. We are simply defeated by the long, hard struggle to stay alive. When somebody dies after a long illness, people are apt to say, with a note of approval, "He fought so hard." And they are inclined to think, about a suicide, that somebody simply gave up. This is quite wrong." -Sally Brampton, Shoot The Damn Dog: A Memoir Of Depression
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The day Kylie Summers received the news of her best friend's death was a hot summer day. She was in her room trying to concentrate on the book in her lap. School started in less than four weeks and she had yet to finish her summer reading project. A soft knock on her door made her drop the book and scamper downstairs. Opening the door she finds Mrs. Owens, her best (and only) friends mother, standing on her porch step. It took Kylie a moment to take in her appearance. Her eyes were red and puffy, tears ran down her cheeks and her face had wrinkles that hadn't been there before. Taking her in and sitting her on the sofa Kylie asked, "Are you ok Mr. Owens? What happened?" Shaking her head the older woman answered "Tyler is dead." Her voice wavered and cracked near the end. "What?" "He committed suicide." 'No. This can't be happening. Tyler can't be dead. He can't.' Tears welled in her eyes as the phrase repeted itself over and over again in her head. 'Tyler is dead. Tyler is dead. He commited suicide. Tyler is dead. He commited suicide.' This couldn't be happening.
~~~
The day Kylie Summers went to her best friends funeral was a cold autumn day. She sat in her room wearing a black dress and flats. Tears fell down her cheeks. Her bedroom door opened and in walked her cousin Lacey. Closing the door behind her, Lacey stepped foward and engulfed Kylie in a hug. They sat like that for a few minutes before Lacey pulled back. "Are you sure you want to go? You don't have to Kylie." Wiping her tears Kylie shook her head. "I do. He's my best friend. I have to be there. Sighing Lacey replied, "Ok. Alright let's go, then."
***
The funeral was like any other. Most people were crying and the ones that weren't were trying to comfort them. Looking up Kylie caught sight of Tyler's mom. The once young and vibrant looking woman seemed to have aged years in only a few months. 'She looks so heart broken.' Kylie thought. Of course she did. Her only son was dead. She'd spent so much time trying to make him a good person. Making sure he didn't end up like his father. All that time and effort she put into his future was going down a six-foot hole. It was all his fault. If he hadn't come Tyler would still be alive. 'Your not my son. Just kill youself.' Those were the words Tyler's father said to him before he left them again. 'If he'd just stayed away. It's his fault Tyler is dead.' A hand on her shoulder broke Kylie's train of thoughts. Looking up she saw her father with a pained expression. Without any words he put his arms around her and hugged her. Sobs escaped Kylie and realization finally hit her. 'Tyler is dead.' The funeral wasn't like any other. Hugging her dad she felt her already broken heart shatter even more. This was her best (and only) friend's funeral. She couldn't help but wish that it were her in that casket instead of him. She knew it was selfish but she didn't want to go through all this pain.
