Sincerely, Me

🌳 Chapter Two 🌳

Connor looks at me through slitted eyes. "What are you doing here?" his words are slurred, blending together, and barely audible. Surprisingly, there is no hatred or anger in his voice or his expressions. I can't really tell what emotion is there, but maybe. . . Maybe hope?

"I-I could ask you the same thing," I say quickly, taking a step closer. Something is wrong. At first I thought he was simply high, but now I can see that it's more than that. He closes his eyes as I answer and doesn't say another word. "Are you okay?"

"Just let me die in peace, please," he mumbles.

Panic surges through me as everything clicks. As I come closer I can see he's holding a half-empty orange bottles. Pills have spilled out into the grass, poisoning the earth. These same pills are poisoning Connor's body as we speak.

"Sh*t," I curse, running the rest of the distance between us. I realize now that he's not high; he's dying. Connor Murphy is dying in front of me at his own hands. "No, no," I say quickly. "You— stay awake. I'm calling help. Just— just stay with me, okay?"

Connor just groans as I dial the number. My heart is pounding out of my chest. Connor's not my friend. We don't even know each other that well. But I know I have to do all I can to not let him die. No one deserves to die like that; to hate their lives to the extent that they can no longer hold on. They let go of the web that they're clinging to and drift down into the bottomless pit known as death. Right now Connor is hovering over that pit.

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

"Yes, hello, I-I'm at Ellison Park," I say quickly. I can hardly catch my breath as I relay the message. "I found— my. . . my classmate has just attempted suicide. I'm here with him and need help."

The woman on the other end punches a key on her loud keyboard and asks me several questions. Where in the park are we? What method was used? What kind of pills and how many? I answer the best I can and she lets me know that help will be here soon. She's then asks me if I'm okay myself, and I lie and tell her I am. She sends her well wishes and let's me know that it's okay to hang up now. I do just that and crouch down beside Connor.

Connor is silent now, his eyes still closed. I shake him gently, but he doesn't wake up. For a moment, I fear the worst, but I can see his chest still rising and falling every now and then. "Connor, please wake up," I say desperately. "I know how it feels but just. . . You matter. Someone needs you here."

Despite my efforts, he doesn't wake up. My panic is rising, and I hardly notice the paramedics pushing me out of the way. I watch in silence as they work on Connor, shoving IVs into his arm and loading him up on a gurney. I don't move until a man comes up and puts his hand on my shoulder. "Are you coming?"

"Wha-?"

"Your friend needs to get to the hospital for advanced care immediately. There's room for one to ride in the back with us, and since no family is here, you can ride if you want. We recommend that you don't drive until the shock wears off." I listen, but I barely hear his words. I just nod and let him lead me out of the park to the ambulance that is waiting at the side of the road. A few people are standing around watching, but I hardly notice. I'm overwhelmed by anxiety now. It feels like I'm drowning in a salty sea, waves crashing around me from all directions. I'm following this man blindly; maybe he will lead me to the shore.

"Will he be okay?" I manage to ask after a few minutes of the route. The voice that comes doesn't sound like me; it sounds like a helpless infant whose dog has just been hit by a car. I don't know why I care so much. Why it bothers me so bad. I don't even know Connor. But I guess. . . I guess maybe we have something in common. Even if it is just that lonely feeling that drove him to take his own life.

"As long as there is no adverse reaction to the medicine we've started, he should be fine," the man says. "He's lucky that you found him as quick as you did. We've treated many similar patients who have succeeded." He looks hurt as he says this, and I feel his pain in my own chest. "Poor kid, I can't imagine how awful he must have been feeling to do this. . ."

I only nod. I find myself reaching and touching Connor's cold hand. You'll be okay, Connor. And I'll be here for you. You won't be alone anymore, I promise. No one deserves to be alone. Not even guys like you and me.