Short Stories

A Cry For Death

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING⚠️
• Suicide attempt •
(1)-800-273-8255
The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline is a United States-based suicide prevention network of about 161 crisis centers that provides a 24/7, toll-free hotline available to anyone in a suicidal crisis or emotional distress. If you're too scared to call them, you can text. For some, texting is much easier.
Please reach out for help if you're ever considering taking your life.
It will get better.

•Read at your own risk...•

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring blankly at the wall across of me as silent tears roll down my cheeks.

Tonight's the night.

I look down to my shaky hand that holds the very gun that's about to commit murder.

I can't keep going like this. Pretending that everything is fine. That I'm not hurt. I can't keep putting this mask on. It's worn out and torn.

I hear my phone start ringing on my desk to the left of me. I decide to ignore it as I load the weapon with two bullets in separate slots away from the other.

I spin the cylinder around and flip it shut so I don't know where the bullets are. One shot and I might be dead, or it may take three shots. This is called the Russian Roulette game. Usually it's played with one bullet, but this way I have less of a chance.

No one knows exactly when this game was formed. Some say in the late 1800s and early 1900s. The origin of it, however, is believed to be Tsarist, Russia.

A Swiss author by the name of Georges Sundez wrote a short story of about 1,600 words that brought the lethal game to the public's eye.

Over two thousand people have lost their lives by playing this very game. I plan to make it one more higher than the last number.

I close my watery eyes and lean my head back a bit as a soft sob escapes my mouth while my phone continuously rings. Annoyed, I get up and go over to it. I swipe my free hand down my face to rid some of the tears. With the very hand, I grab my phone and answer it.

"H-hello?" I poorly attempt to hide my weak voice.

"Finally! Jesus Christ. I've been trying to call you! What are you doing?!" I hear Zak's eager voice though the other end. I look down to the revolver in my hand, then close my eyes once more as I choke back a sob.

"Uh," my voice shakes slightly, "nothing... Why?" I swallow the built up saliva as I stand there as still as a statue.

He goes quiet for a second. "What's wrong? You sound like you're about to cry." He calmly, yet with concern lacing his words, asks me.

"No." I weakly chuckle. "I'm fine." I bite my cheeks to stop the whimpers.

"(Y/n)." His tone goes firm. "Don't lie to me. You're clearly not fine. Please talk to me."

"I- I have to go." I hang up in a panic as I let the sobs freely escape my mouth. I toss my phone to the floor uncaringly. He sounded so happy when the call started. I don't want to ruin his happiness over my stupidness.

Zak and I have been friends since high school. Long before his youtube career sky rocketed. I occasionally crushed on him throughout the four years of hell but quickly disregarded my feelings so I wouldn't risk ruining our friendship.

He's always there to comfort me when I'm down in the dumps and I always do the same for him. He's the only person that I can fully trust.

We always had sleepovers, where he was forced to sleep on the couch as I took his bed. I always offered to take the couch but he would refuse. We never did get much sleep, though, due to us roasting each other every second.

Those are the days that I miss. Now, I long for that happiness I felt, the ridiculous smiles as wide as Jeff The Killers', laughing at each other's laughs and jokes. I miss not feeling an ounce of sadness.

With every happy moment we shared, we shared sad ones as well. Usually, if he couldn't make it to my house, he would FaceTime me until I fell asleep to make sure I was okay. Some people in the school mistook us as a couple. Maybe that's why we drifted apart slightly.

We're still close, we just don't hang out as much. Mostly because he's always busy with recording videos and flying back and fourth to Los Angeles and Florida.

Maybe I should leave him a note. What would I say in it? I'm sorry for killing myself?

I scoff at my thoughts and take the safety off on the gun and put the muzzle to my temple. As I prepare myself to pull the trigger, my phone dings, illuminating the area around it in front of me. 

I sniffle and ignore the text. I squeeze my eyes shut as I pull the trigger. The gun clicks, turning the cylinder for the next shot.

One of six. I'm still here...

"Stop!" I hear a desperate voice break my thoughts. I quickly open my eyes in fear. "Give me the gun..." Zak slowly approaches me with his hand reached out.

Well this is embarrassing.

I slightly shake my head as I take a step back. "Zak, please." I softly cry. "Go back home."

"Why? So you can kill yourself?" He continues to slowly walk forward every now and then. "(Y/n), please... put the gun down. Talk to me." He pleads.

"I-" My voice breaks as I fall to my knees and hang my head low. I feel him take the gun from my hand, then wrap his arms around me. I cry onto his shoulder while he holds me tightly.

"It's okay. I'm here." He reassures me.

Once I slowly start to calm down, I lift my head up and pull away from him. "I... I really hate that you had to see me like this." I look over at the gun behind him that he had pushed away.

"We all break down at some point. I'm just glad I got here in time." He softly half smiles at me. "Can we talk about this now?"

I wipe my nose on my sleeve and cross my legs to form a pretzel. "I don't know what to say." I sigh. "I started playing solo Russian Roulette with two bullets." I titter.

"Why?" He crosses his legs into a pretzel as well.

"I don't have a good answer for that." I look forward to him, then look back down. "I just can't keep going. I'm hurt and I don't even understand why." I look back up to him. "Do you ever just... cry so much to the point that you throw up." I fiddle with my fingers. "Then, you get sick of being stuck in your head... Eventually, sick of being sick?"

He nods once, not taking his eyes off of me. "I never wanted you to see me like this because I don't want you to worry. I, especially didn't want to distract you from your work." I sigh once again, "Zak, you're a happy little bean who doesn't need to have a single worry about anything."

"You're my friend, (Y/n). Of course I'm going to worry about you. I care about you and I don't want to lose you."

I laugh softly and wipe the warm tears off my cheeks. "I'm glad we ran into each other in that hallway." I recall back to the first time we met with a smile.

He chuckles lightly. "Me too."