The Fault

The causes and effects of a teen suicide.

My therapist says Mick’s death wasn’t my fault, but he doesn’t know anything. That fancy degree he’s got from Harvard or Princeton or wherever the hell it is he went, doesn’t mean s**t. College is great, but you can’t honestly tell me that some fatass bald man in a suit knows what’s going on in my head.

“Allie, why do you think that you caused this… Horrific accident?” Dr. Scaff peers down at me from behind his big desk. I roll my eyes.

“It wasn’t an accident. Mick killed himself. On purpose. Nothing ‘accidental’ about it.” I snap, then push myself back into my chair. God, I hate therapy.

“Okay, you’re right.” Dr. Scaff throws his hands up in surrender. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have used that phrasing. Why do you think that Nick’s death was your fault?”

I grit my teeth. “Mick. His name. Is Mick.”

“Right,” Dr. Scaff nods, then gestures me onward with his hand.

I roll my eyes again. “I know that Mick killed himself because of me, because he told me so.”

“You mean the letter.”

I nod. “Mick made it clear that he thought I hated him, and that I made him feel like life was not worth living. That's my fault. I treated him like s**t, and I shouldn’t have been such a rancid b***h to him.”

Dr. Scaff makes little notes onto his stupid clipboard. “So because you, would you say, bullied-”

I nod again

He continues, “bullied Mick, you think that is the reason he killed himself? Do you think you’re just that important in someone’s life?”

I glare at the doctor. “No. I don’t think I was that important to him, I think that he had a lot of s**t handed to him and me treating him any better wouldn’t have made a damn bit of difference. No one is going to throw themselves off a f*****g bridge because of what I think.” I take a deep breath, and fight back the moisture pushing its way through my eyes. “But, I was a cause. I helped to pile more and more s**t on him, so I’m not innocent. I helped him feel worse, because I wanted to. Just for f*****g fun, so yes, I’m a horrible person. Can I go now?”

Dr. Scaff nods and “Mhm’s” the way most therapists do. Finally he let me go. My mom picked me up in her light blue station wagon and asks me how things went.

“The usual,” I shrug. She looks at me for a moment before putting the car in gear and driving away. My parents haven’t looked at me the same way since the police knocked on our day the morning Mick’s body was found. They just couldn’t believe that their little girl could have been such a horrid, evil, b***h to an undeserving boy for going on two years. For the second time today I hold back tears, as the car speeds out of the parking lot and on to the highway.

“Man, Mick was my best friend. Sure I did a fucked up thing, but I didn’t think he was going to kill himself!” I shout, trying to defend myself to the school therapist, Mr. Traywick.

“No one said it was your fault Kyle. Relax.”

“No, man, no. I’m not gonna relax. You f****n’ relax after your best friend chucks himself headfirst off a god damned bridge. Then you tell me to f****n’ relax.” I scream, the tears have made their way down my face. This just pisses me off even more. I kick the chair next to me.

“Kyle. Please sit down,” Mr. Traywick says in that same, calm voice he’s had for the past thirty minutes. It just enrages me.

“Man, you don’t care. Nobody f****n’ cares. You all act like you miss Mick, but y’all didn’t even know him. I knew him. I f****n’ knew him.” I sit on the floor with my head in my lap and cry.

“Why are you so angry with yourself Kyle?” He asks me that question for the sixth time.

“Because its my fault, man. Because I let this happen. I made it happen. Man, me and Lily, we didn’t mean to you know? It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.” I sob again. “I thought I was in love with her, you know? So I was willing to give up my friendship with Mick to have her. But man, she’s not even worth that. She’s not worth Mick’s life.”

Mr. Traywick nods. “So are you angry with Lily too?”

“Man, I’m angry with everybody.”

He nods again. Finally, after I get all the tears out of my system, he tells me I can go back to class. But I’m not ready yet. I wander the halls thinking of how Mick and I used to skip Physics to go smoke behind the gym. I remember him laughing at me the first time I tried to light a cigarette. I feel nauseated, so I rush to the bathroom and puke. I emerge from the stall, and see myself in the mirror.

I see this terrible, fucked up kid staring back at me… So I punch the glass as hard as I can, and start screaming.

“Lily!” My mom yells as she pounds on the bathroom door. “Lily, I know you’re upset but please come out!” I can barely hear her anymore… Her voice is just fuzz. “Lily, I’m calling the police.”

I nod faintly. Let them come. I’ll be gone before they get here.

I wake up in the hospital, and all I can think is that my head hurts. I go to rub my temples, but my arms are restrained. “What the hell?” I try to say, but my throat is so dry I can’t get it out.

“Lily?” I look to my right. It’s my mom.

“Lily, oh my goodness, baby you’re okay now.” She hugs my head and strokes my hair. “I was so scared baby.”

“Mom.” ….. “Mom.”.... “Mom!”

“Yes baby?” She lets go of my head.

“Can I have some water? And why can’t I move my arms?” I ask, yanking on my restraints, then wince, remembering the cuts on my arm.

My mom’s face turns red. “So you don’t have another… Episode. Baby, I know you miss Mick, but we’re going to get you help.”

I can’t help it I start crying. “Why didn’t you just let me go Mom? Its my fault he’s gone, and I deserve to die with him.”

My mom cries too. “No.. No Lily,” she sobs heavily.

“Mom, I cheated on him. Thats why he killed himself, he said so in his letter. It’s my fault, so I have to go with him. I’m sorry.”

Needless to say, throughout the next few months there were several doctors, therapists, hospital’s I visited. Finally I realized the only way to get myself to where I need to be was to accept Mick was gone.

Tonight I’ve come to this bridge where he’s died, in my polka dotted dress he always loved. My hair is curled, my makeup done lightly. I grab hold of the necklace he gave me, and leap.

I ruined Mick’s life to the point he didn’t want to live it anymore, now he’s done the same to me. I guess we’re even.

Author's Note

Some of the grammar mistakes were purposeful, others not so much....

Reviews

[Luna Mays]

To be honest this didn't really happen to me.... An ex of mine attempted suicide, but it wasn't anything like this. I just thought it would be a good idea to look at the aftereffects in those around the victim.

[urbanfantasy]

Before I make a comment, is this a true story in your life. There is very much feeling in this story, that make you wonder if the story is true, and if it is, I can feel the hurt. Let me know if you would.

[Luna Mays]

Yes... I totally meant on our day... >.>

[Dae]

"police knocked on our day the morning " That's on purpose right? That's really cool if it is. I love the police knocking on their day. Yes.

This is great. I love that you're writing from the two perspectives of the surviving friends and their guilt. I am eager to see where this will go!

[A. Amos]

Compelling and enjoyable read. Well done!