Until Death Do Us Part

Just another of the disturbed creations of a teenager

Today has gone well today. I have managed to keep the worst thoughts submerged. I don’t think he has had it as easy as I have though. He seems to be more calloused, but I see more and more scars showing up on his wrists every day. I know I should say something, but to who? Who would listen to another suicidal teenage girl talking about another suicidal teenage boy? I hear the ding of my phone receiving a message. I’ll check it later. Dinner is more important than any message I could ever receive. Besides, who would ever message me? All my friends are either too busy, to consumed by their depression, or simply don’t exist. It must not be too important or they would have hurried over. They know I am not attached to my phone.

 

By the time I get back to my phone, it has been over an hour since whoever it was texted me. I pick it up and it has been spammed with messages. It is some of the darkest thing I have ever heard any of my friends say. The worst part is that it is from HIM. The only source of light I currently have in this world of darkness surrounding me. I hear another ding and notice that he has sent one more message.

 

“Goodbye.”

 

My heart drops. Please don’t let that message be real. I unlock my phone as quickly as I can and click the button to call him. The same thought pounds through my head over and over like a disturbed version of a mantra. Please don’t let this be real. Please let it be a nightmare, a figure of my imagination. Please don’t let this be real. Please let it be a nightmare, a figure of my imagination. He finally picks up, but there is no response to my hello. There is no response to my please don’t let this be real. There is no response to my please let it be a nightmare, a figure of my imagination. The only response is the sound of him breathing. At least he is still alive.

 

I think that too soon. All of a sudden a new sound rings out in the near silence. A sound that brings shivers down my spine and breaks me in the worst ways possible.

 

The sound of a gun firing.

 

The sound that I was afraid of hearing. It proves the reality of this scenario. I can’t do this anymore. The only source of lightness just burned out. The candle was snuffed way too soon. I whisper into the phone quietly and then hang up. I grab my lethal combination and drink it down. The twisted version of a mantra I whispered into the phone before hanging up is repeating over and over in my head. Our unspoken pact was you die, I die. I’ll be with you soon. I can’t do this life without you.