We all have fears. Everyone has that one thing in the back of their minds that scares them the most. Sometimes it's a monster in the closet or a ghost in an abandoned house down the block. But other times, fears can be real. Getting lost and never finding your way home, being mugged in the shady side of town. Me? Well, I had a fear that a lot of people have. What was it you may ask? The loss of something, someone important. That was the thing I dreaded the most. Everything is in the past tense because it happened. Right before my eyes, it happened. Celeste had a fear of being forgotten. She thought everyone would forget her. Abandon her. I'm making sure that doesn't happen. Because you die twice, the first time is when they send you six feet under. And the second time is the last time somebody mentions your name. I'm not going to let that happen for as long as I live.
Each day, I noticed less and less of Celeste outside of class. A growing worry gnawed at me—was I doing something wrong? At the time, I never knew. One day after school, I spotted her walking home. I quickly dialed Luna's number, instructing her not to pick me up, and then approached Celeste.
"H-hey," I stammered, my voice betraying my concern.
"Oh, hey, Zeke," she replied, her voice sounding drained and distant.
"Are you okay? I haven't been seeing you at lunch as often as I used to," I cautiously inquired.
"Yeah, I-I'm fine," she replied, her voice lacking conviction.
"What's with the voice, kid? Are you sure?" I asked, my tone reflecting my growing worry.
"Mhmm," she mumbled.
Doubt crept into my mind. She may have seemed okay on the surface, but I knew her too well. She wasn't telling the truth.
"Wanna work on homework together?" I suggested, hoping to spend more time with her.
To my surprise, she agreed. I called Luna once again, informing her that I would be doing homework with Celeste.
It was approximately an hour after we arrived at her house that I noticed Celeste's strange behavior. She appeared on the verge of breaking down at any moment.
"Hey, Celestia?" I addressed her, deliberately using her full name—something I rarely did.
Her response came in a weary voice, "W-what?"
"I feel like something's wrong. We haven't been hanging out as much lately. I need to know what's going on," I finally voiced my concern.
"Zeke," she sighed, "It's just that time of the month for me. I-I've just been moody. Yeah, I've been moody, that's all," she said, attempting to mask her troubles with a forced smile.
"Are you sure?" I probed further.
"Yep!" she replied, a little too quickly.
"Okay, just know that if you need anything, I'll be one call away," I assured her. "I promise."
She nodded, returning her attention to her work.
And I meant every word.
After we finished our homework, we engaged in a conversation about the stories Celeste was writing at the time. Time slipped away from us, and when I finally glanced up at the clock, it displayed 6:45 pm.
"I've got to go, CeCe. See you tomorrow," I exclaimed before preparing to leave.
But as I reached the foot of the driveway, a realization struck me—I had forgotten my jacket in Celeste's room. I decided to go back inside and retrieve it.
"Hey, Zeke, back so soon?" Kenmur quipped as he descended the stairs.
"I forgot my jacket, so I'm gonna get it and then go. It's cold out," I replied, a hint of urgency in my voice.
"You better hurry, daylight is fading fast," Ken remarked.
"I will," I assured him, ascending the stairs once again.
As I approached Celeste's room, the sound of muffled crying reached my ears. A knot formed in my stomach, and my heart shattered when I opened the door.
There, on her bed, sat Celeste, clutching a razor blade to her wrist. Two small cuts marred her skin.
"C-Celeste?" I stammered, shocked and dismayed.
"Zeke!" she yelped, tears streaming down her face. "Holy hell, this isn't what it looks like!"
She threw the blade somewhere out of sight.
"What were you doing?!" I demanded, unable to comprehend the situation before me.
"I-I," she sighed, her voice heavy with resignation, "I think you know what."
I approached her slowly and pulled her into a hug.
"What are you- OW?!" she cried out, wincing in pain.
"I'm sorry!" I exclaimed, loosening my embrace.
"What happened? I know something happened," I pressed, desperate to understand.
"No-no, Zeke, stop," she sobbed.
I held her gently, making sure not to cause her any further harm. "What happened, CeCe?"
"B-Blaze," she choked out between sobs.
"What?!" I exclaimed, my voice a hushed whisper. "Fuck!"
"Zeke, you need to go. We'll talk about this tomorrow, I promise. But you need to go. My parents will get suspicious. Take your jacket and go," she pleaded.
"But-" I began, wanting to stay and help her through whatever she was facing.
"Go, Zeke. But please, don't tell anyone?" she implored.
"Only if you let me help you. I won't tell," I vowed, struggling to conceal my own pain.
"Fine. Now go," she whispered, and I obeyed, leaving her room behind.
My biggest fear was coming to life. My best friend was either hurting herself or attempting to hurt herself, and if it worsened, she could die. It was a terrifying realization, one that showcased the destructive power of the human mind.
YOU ARE READING
Memories
Teen Fiction----- This book series was written by someone who was struggling mentally in high school. Things will be cringey and may not make sense. Harsh topics will be brought up. My only hope is that you have fun if you choose to read. Thank you. Thank you t...
