Reason Why

As I throw the remaining pictures into the fire, I reach over and pull a blade, stained crimson from last time, out of a drawer. I pull the knife across my wrist and thick, warm blood oozes from the cut. The growing puddle glows in the orange flames and stains the once light blue throw rug, laying in front of the fireplace. The photographs blacken and curl into themselves, while I let the deep red blood drip into my lap and mix with my tears. No matter what I do, how much I drink, try to move on he remains in my memory. I see his face in the mirror, his figure around the corner, his green eyes looking down at me. The guilt over whelms me and another wave of sobs ripple outward from my chest. As I look around the room, memories flood in. The table he made me in wood shop, the guitar he bought me for my sixteenth birthday, the book of poems he wrote, everything reminds me of him and how I could of stopped his death. If only I was there, instead of with my now ex, maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't of pulled that trigger. If I was there, I could of calmed him down, I could of begged him to try once more, I know I was the only one who could, but I left him alone even though I knew he was drinking. I drop the blade and it lands on the rug, splashing blood onto my faded, worn Chucks. I wipe away tears and wash my face, as I let my phone ring out, just another call from the police station trying to find the reason why he committed suicide. He left no note with him, he sent a letter to me that I got just a day after a jogger found his body, laying against a willow tree down by the creek. Our willow tree. A jogger found his limp, pale, empty body at our special spot. The spot we resided to when our families cast us out, the place we cried about the pain we went through, the tree we leaned against as we made the promise that bound us as best friends for eternity. I try to sleep, but images of him float through my mind, and memories play on. I stumble out to the kitchen and pull a bottle of whiskey from the freezer. I pop off the top and drink straight from the bottle. After, I drain the entire bottle I throw it down and fall into a coma-like sleep. I wake up to a pounding at my door and after I open it I see none other than his mom. She throws an envelope at me and storms away. I close the door and study the front of the letter. It has my name written in sloppy handwriting and tear stains that made the ink run a little. I recognize the handwriting as his and I flip it over and see a light sprinkling of blood near the flap. I open the letter and read it the best I can, for tears were blurring my eyesight. Its dated the twenty first of April, a month before they found his body and the day after I started dating a co-worker of ours. It stated that he didn't know how much longer he could bare the pain, that he loved me more than anything in the world, and that he was sorry for everything that he ever did. I crumple the letter and hit my knees, tears pouring down my cheeks. These two months after I lost him have been the worst days of my life, I honestly don't know how much longer it'll be before I join him. I clean myself up as much as I can and drive out to the liquor store. The clerk comments on how much I've been in there recently and about much Jack Daniels I must drink. I pay the clerk and head back home. As soon as I get into my apartment I twist open the bottle I start pouring the alcohol into my mouth, burning my throat. I pull out a notebook, it's labeled physics, but I don't care. The words pour out as fast as the tears do, and as soon as I finish I rip out the pages and fold them. I finish off the bottle and pull out the blade just one last time. As I pull the blade across both my wrists, going in deep, I put my final words on the chair next to me. As I fade into a blackness, I can almost hear his voice calling my name and see his face hovering above mine. That last thing I hear is the radio playing his favorite song. 

Do you know what's worth fighting for?
When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away
And you feel yourself suffocating?
Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart inside?
Your in ruins
One, twenty one guns
Lay down your arms
Give up the fight
One, twenty one guns 
Throw up your arms into the sky
You and I
When your at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
Your mind breaks the sprit of your soul
Your faith walks one broken glass
And the hang over doesn't last
Nothings ever humid to last
Your in ruins
One, twenty one guns
Lay down your arms 
Give up the fight
One, twenty one guns
Throw up your arms into the sky
You and I
Did you try to live on your own?
When  you burned down the house and home?
Did you stand to close to the fire?
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone?
When it's time to live and let die?
And you can't get another try?
Something inside this heart has died
You're in ruins
One, twenty one guns
Give up the fight
One, twenty one guns
Throw your arms into the sky
One, twenty one guns
Lay down your arms
One, twenty one guns
Throw your arms into the sky
You and I