The Suicide Case of Arielle White

Her

I was always in love with Ariella White. From the moment I saw her gorgeous brown eyes, to the moment she died. Some people say they could see the light in her eyes slowly fade away during those last days. I was never there to witness it.

Ariella Marie White was pronounced dead, at exactly 3:45 am, on October 15. I remember it so clearly, as I should, since the events only took place 2 months ago. I awoke to red lights flashing the shades on my window, and faint screams from a short distance. I slowly got up out of bed and opened my shades. I had to cover my eyes from the surprise of the red lights coming from a single ambulance that was sitting on the White's lawn. I wondered why they hadn't just parked on the street rather than right on top of their grass, that's when I realized that something was horribly wrong. The ambulance must've been rushing to the house, someone must have been close to dying...or worse. I knew it was Ariella's house, when we were friends I would go over there all the time. God, I had the biggest crush on her. Her soft brown hair and perfectly clear skin would drive me crazy. Maybe her father had a heart attack or a stroke I thought to myself as all the neighbors poured out of their houses to see what was going on. The whispering of the housewives was so loud I could hear it from my room. Ariella's dad had been drinking a lot lately, when I was over her house I always noticed empty beer bottles scattered on the stairs, and in the living room, I never mentioned it though for I never wanted to upset her gentle soul.

Finally, the paramedics came out of the house and I heard several gasps. I ran downstairs and busted out the door to see what had happened, and suddenly my entire world cracked and then slowly fell apart and shattered. I saw her mother there on the ground next to the ambulance. She was screaming so loudly that my throat started to hurt just listening to her. She sounded like someone had just murdered her...and that is probably what it felt like to her...and to me too. She was clawing at her hair while continuing to scream and cry. It scared me. But, I couldn't blame her. Lying there on the stretcher was Ariella Marie White, blood pouring out of her left arm. "Why don't they wrap it up? She's going to die! Why aren't they wrapping her fucking arm up?" I whispered to myself forcing myself not to believe what I know knew. She was dead. It was my fault. I killed her. She was probably sitting on her bed, happy, and then she suddenly remembered me and she grabbed the knife and sliced into her delicate skin, hitting her vein, and crying as she saw the blood pour from her wrists, and trickle down her arm. "I'm so sorry." I whispered. I did this. What I did caused this!

That was the night Ariella was pronounced dead.