To See The Stars

Chapter Six: Jack

Days like today are the ones that make me remember that there is always a way out in this world. There is always a way out. A permanent way out. A drastic decision. A thing called suicide. Now I won't say I'm not suicidal. Cause I am. I go to bed at night, wishing to not wake back up again. I wonder if it would be easy to hang myself. When I'm bored, I think about what the best way to kill myself would be. How I want to go out.

Is hanging myself, too cliche? Is taking pills, too easy? Is slitting my wrists, too messy? I wonder if the universe would stop outright, if I died. Or if it would keep going. Would I finally get to see the stars, or would I die in the black depths of emptiness? If I kill myself will my mind finially just stop?

I wonder if the world will remember me. If the world will ask where I went? If anyone would notice? I doubt it. I'm like a crack in the pavement, always there but unnoticed and often stepped over so as not to disrupt the pattern of life. I am often lost in thought, but maybe that is because so often my mind is lost as well. I think a lot. And maybe that's a bad thing. But maybe it's not.

Classes blur together into a single entity, that follows one rule. Keep busy. I study, I pay attention, and still my mind screams. Is there such a thing as being content anymore? I sit in spanish and work on math. I sit in math and work on science. Will there come a day when I am focused on the present? Will there come a day where I see the stars and don't just think about life. Will there come a day where I actually see the stars for the beautiful things they are?

"Jack, are you paying attention?"

Startled, I lift my head from my hand and look over at the daydreaming trespasser. My 5"6 bundle of energy, History teacher, Ms. Vouse, stands at the front, hand on her hip, as she bounces ever so slightly left to right.

I manage a beautifully elegant, "Uh... Yeah..."

"Mind telling the class about what's going on in that head of yours?"

My heart starts to do twirls at the mere thought of voicing the odd thoughts running through my mind. I quickly start to shake my head, no, and sputter, "No, No, No, it's alright. Sorry."

Ms. Vouse eyes me for a second, before continuing on with the lesson.

I sink into my chair. And my head conjures up the joyful image of burning alive inside a box, as the class looks on. The world is so small. And when I think about myself, the world just becomes a ladder just barely out of grasp. I add a note or two to my already overflowing notebook. Noah keeps telling me that I should write down my thoughts, so my brain doesn't get "crowded". So I've started thinking about starting to  write letters. I just won't give them to people. Maybe that's a stupid idea. It probably is. But I don't know. Maybe I'll enjoy doing it.
Who knows anymore.