The Suicide Effect | ✓

nineteen

Becks' mum came round today. She brought with her Becks' phone - which she then placed in my hands. It was the one that I really liked: a brand new, shiny iPhone.

"She would have wanted you to have it," she said softly.

I took it with shaking fingers, thanking her polietly and discreetly swiping through to her messages. Her last received text (while she was alive) was from me: Haha you're stupid! :P nah girl - I should probably sleep now! See you tomorrow, yeah? Xx

For a moment, the irony hit me hard - Becks and I had actually planned to meet up. And in a way, we had.

Becks just wasn't breathing when it had happened.

I exhaled hard, flickering my focus back to the messages. And right there, right underneath my stupid, meaningless text was a message labelled "failed to send".

Gayle. My bestest, most favourite Gayle (and, of course, the only one that I know!). Firstly, I've got to tell you that I'm so sorry. I know that it's not enough - heck, I'd be SO mad at you if you did this to me - but it's all that I can really say. I'm sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry. I can't imagine how you're feeling - I'm so sorry that I did this to you. It was never your fault, Gayle - you were the best friend that you could possibly have been. It's just easier this way, believe me. You won't have me messing up your life anymore. At least you don't have to worry about that now. I guess that this is my suicide note, Gayle - it's the only form of note that I've left at all. So yeah. I love you Gayle, you're my best friend. Please don't ever forget that. Please don't ever forget me. Love from your (hopefully) best friend, Becks xx