Suicide hotline

Chapter 3: To The Rescue

Song: Leave a Light On - Tom Walker

Chance's POV:

(Wesley up the top)

As soon as I hung up the phone, my heart was hammering in my chest. It wasn't hammering from the fact that I had attempted suicide 15 minutes before, but from what she had just told me.

She spoke to me like no one has ever done before.

She made me feel significant and warm inside, like someone who actually gave a shit about me and wanted me here.

She made me realize things that my parents couldn't even make me realize and feel things I have never felt before.

I know it sounds stupid that I'm feeling this way and I know that it's her job to tell me that I should stay, but goddamn the way she said it. The way her words worked their ways into my brain and made it come to life.

It sounded like she genuinely cared about my wellbeing and sounded so pained when I told her that I nearly killed myself. Almost as though she was choking back tears.

It was final.

I had to call her back, I wanted-no I needed to speak to her again. To hear her voice again and the way she uses her words to make you feel like you have a chance in life. She made me feel somewhat hopeful.

I placed my iPhone down onto my coffee table and stared at it for a long while, trying to recollect my thoughts once again.

There was a thud on the door, reefing me out of my intense thinking.

I turned my attention towards the doorway, staring at the dark brown door as if staring at it hard enough would open it for whoever was on the other side.

When it remained silent, I deemed that I was just imaging things.

I was pretty fucking crazy after all.

I reached across me and grabbed ahold of the tv remote. I was about to lean back into my seat and turn my tv on when various of loud thuds erupted, causing my heart to jump up my throat.

I quickly stood up, making my way angrily towards the door.

Once I reached it, I looked through the peephole, my grey eyes being met with a pair of brown eyes. I jumped, not expecting the person to literally have their fucking eye staring into the peephole.

I opened the door, clenching my jaw as I came face to face with my best friend-Wesley Amell.

"Wes, you realize that when you look through the peephole on your side, you can't actually see a fucking thing." I said, my patience soon slipping as his face was lit with a grin, soon being replaced with a worrisome look.

"Chance, what the fuck!" He roared, grabbing ahold of my face and forcing me to lift it up for my vision to be met with the ceiling.

"Ow! You prick!" I yelled, pushing his off of me.

"What the hell have you done!?" He exclaimed, forcing himself inside as his eyes now flashed with fury as he slammed the door harshly behind him.

"I told you to fucking call me whenever you felt this way! Especially what ever it looks like you've done!" He cried, his voice breaking as he looked at my neck.

I gulped, I hadn't checked my neck and I had no idea how badly the bruising would look.

I turned around, quickly moving up the stairs and into my bedroom where I had a mirror.