Pressure

You’re on the railing, you’re holding each other’s hands, you’re looking down at the rushing water, your heart is pounding but you, yourself, feel strangely peaceful. You jump.
And you never hit the water.

High school isn't all it's cracked up to be. My parents tell me that it is the best time of my life and all my relatives look back fondly on the time they spent in a place that has been absolute hell for me since day one, four years ago. That would be fine if only it were the school part of it that made me so unhappy. But it isn't. It is the utter depression and feeling of being trapped among all the difficulties of life in general. The anger, the regret, the unhappiness. The placidity that has filled my life. My closest friends are in the same boat in all of this. We are close enough to admit this to each other. The only people that we stay here for is each other, even if we don't want to be here at all. And the best solution we have is... well, death. It ends everything that makes us unhappy but keeps us together at the same time.
Except, like everything else in our lives, it hasn't worked out for us.
For reasons we can't explain, we are back to day one of our senior year. We're being given a second chance... to change ourselves. To change the things that we've done, the things that we've said. But there is a danger. The danger of messing things up even worse... the danger of the day we supposedly killed ourselves coming around again and what happens then. Do we move forward or is this second chance simply a cruel joke only to end in our deaths?