Disclaimer: I do not own 'Love, Simon' or any other related franchise, nor do I own any of the quotes used in this fic (listed at the end of the fic). All rights belong to their rightful owners.
A/N: Warning: suicide, depression, bullying, and homophobia is present. If this is a trigger for you, please, do not feel as if you need to read this.
~Nora~
A scream pierced the air.
She had walked into her big brother's room with the intention of giving him a long hug and some of her freshly made pancakes.
Instead, she saw red seeping out underneath the bathroom door into the carpet. There were letters on his desk in sealed envelopes.
She couldn't do anything but scream and pound on that bathroom door hoping that he was okay, that he would let her in. Her parents rushed in, her mother opened the door with her spare key, and they all piled into the bathroom. She shook her brother, hoping that he was just asleep; but he wasn't.
He was cold, freezing even, and so stiff. The blood wasn't pumping anymore; it was just everywhere.
She had to be dragged out of the room by paramedics when they arrived because she refused to leave.
They declared him long dead.
Police were brought in for their investigation, and they couldn't calm her to get her report.
She was inconsolable, until she wasn't.
She stopped being the happy and bubbly girl she had been.
She had lost her brother, her big brother, the most important person in her life.
She wasn't crying though, she wasn't screaming.
She couldn't cry anymore, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get even a single tear to escape her eyes.
She couldn't scream anymore either. She had screamed so much she had damaged her vocal chords, but more than anything else, she lost the will to speak.
She felt empty.
Two years later, she followed her brother. She had simply lost the will to live without him.
She never read his letter for her.
~Emily~
The scream that told them that something was wrong was just the beginning.
She had grabbed the emergency set of keys and raced to find her daughter pounding at her son's bathroom door. She unlocked it, heart beating fast.
The moment she saw him though, she collapsed to the ground. Her body wracked with sobs. She could hear her husband calling paramedics, but all she could see was her baby boy's lifeless eyes gazing at her, hand flopped on the ground in her direction as if trying to ask for help that hadn't come.
She felt her heart sink when the paramedics confirmed what she already knew. He baby boy was gone.
Gone
Gone
Gone
…
And he wasn't coming back.
It took her until a month after the funeral for her to open her letter. Even then, she was too distraught to read most of it.
Don't blame yourself, Mom. I've made my choice, and I'm going to be free soon. No more pain, no more ridicule, no more agony. You didn't force me into this, I chose to do this. I hope that one day you can move past my death.
Love,
Your baby boy, Simon.
The last thing her baby boy would ever say to her.
It took her many years, and the death of her daughter nearly broke her down completely once again. But eventually began to heal. She'd never be truly happy, but she was at peace. Her son wasn't in pain, and he had been at peace when he died.
When her marriage ended, she very nearly turned to cutting like her children had, but she stayed strong.
She spent many nights crying in want of days long gone, hands cupping stretch marks and wishing that her babies were still inside her, waiting to be born and safe from the harsh world. She wished she could have seen them grow up to be amazing people, but she knew it was a pipe dream that would never happen.
She ended up volunteering at charities all over town when she lost her therapist job due to being so mentally volatile. She would sit with so many strangers who had nothing, and she would listen to their stories. She became a support for them, and they in turn listened to her stories of a life long gone.
It wasn't the life she'd imagined when she got married, but it was a life that she felt was worth living.
~Jack~
Gone
His son is gone
And he's not coming back.
Every homosexual joke you made felt like a knife being twisted in my gut. That you could act so callously about something like that, when how you act or what your interests and hobbies are has nothing to do with who you like. It hurt, but I put up with it because I knew you would stop if I could just tell you that I'm gay.
His son had been hurt by his words, and he'd never even noticed.
When I came out to you and Mom, I thought it would mean I would have two amazing people backing me without fail. I just felt like I was drowning when I kept hearing you having to physically stop yourself from making those gay jokes.
He hadn't been there when his son needed him, not really.
I never stopped loving you though. You're my Dad, and I love you. All I wanted was to be me, and to make you and Mom proud. I'm sorry that I'm going to make things hard for you because of my choice, but I have to do what is best for me. I can't cope, and I don't know who to turn to for help anymore.
His son didn't trust him to help.
Love,
Your son,
Simon.
His son was dead, and he had had a hand in it.
He drowned out his sorrows with beer, alcohol, anything to keep his mind off the pain.
Drunken mishaps became common.
His wife tried to get him to stop.
He tried to stop, but he couldn't; he had to drown out the memory of his son's dead eyes.
His daughter killed herself, and he really went off the deep end.
He died not long after, only a few months later.
He had drunk so much that he died of alcohol poisoning. Drunk himself to death.
He never said goodbye to his beautiful wife, the only family he had had left.
~Nick~
Cold.
When they announced it that day at school, he felt a shiver run down his spine.
Flashes of the bullying crossed his sight, and he had to run to the bathroom so that he didn't puke everywhere.
"He's gone," he whispered in shock to himself.
He went to the funeral, and he cried. He went up to the open casket and pressed a single kiss against his best friend's forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered, tears still streaming down his face. "I'm sorry that I didn't do the one thing I said I'd do when we became best friends, and that was to stay by your side. I failed you, and I'm sorry."
At every soccer game he played in, her wore the black armband to show his mourning for his best friend.
He read Simon's letter for him, and felt ashamed of himself. He swore that it would never happen again. He wouldn't let anyone else go through that pain.
He attended Pride Parades in place of his best friend. When people asked why he was there, he would tell them "My best friend was gay. He was outed before he was ready. He committed suicide from all the homophobic bullying and general lack of support he received. I won't let anyone else go through that if I can help it. You don't choose who you're attracted to, and no one deserves what my mate got, so I'm marching to make sure it doesn't happen again."
Later, when he became a big soccer star, whenever he helped pull off an amazing victory, he would run around with a rainbow flag.
He raised awareness wherever he could.
He became an advocate for acceptance.
He was the first to call anyone out on their homophobic behaviour, and the first to comfort anyone when they were bullied or assaulted because of the sexual preference or anything else.
"No one deserves to be in so much pain that they think the only way out is to kill themselves," – this became his most famous quote.
~Abby~
Shock.
She couldn't move.
She couldn't believe what she'd heard.
"Over the weekend, Simon Spier committed suicide."
That's what they were told.
She was given the letter addressed to her and she read it.
She was in emotional pain, but she couldn't express it.
She went through the motions almost robotically, but her mother set her up with a therapist.
A session a week.
Eventually, she slowly started to come to terms with what happened. It didn't make her feel better about near abandoning her friend, but it was a start.
At the end of high school, she went and studied to become a therapist herself. She still had a long road of recovery to go, but she knew that she wanted to help people in her position, in Simon's position before its too late.
Like Nick, she attended Pride Parades with Nick, advocating for the acceptance of everyone no matter who they were attracted to.
When she got her first office within which she would be helping people, she hung up a Pride flag. That was the thing in pride of place, not her degree certificate, not pictures of her family, but a Pride Flag. Every office she moved to, that flag moved with her, and it was always in pride of place.
"I never hide my beliefs, and I never will. I work to accept everyone for who they are, because I've seen first hand what happens when you don't. Suicide should never be romanticised, it is not pretty. It is a tragedy first and foremost, a loss of a human life. But it is also a reminder that they couldn't receive the help they needed so badly to cope with what was happening in their life. I refuse to use statistics about mental illnesses and suicide, because they are all people with a story, not a number on a page." – her spiel for anyone who questioned her way of working.
~Leah~
Numb.
She couldn't feel anything else.
Her best friend was dead.
I'm sorry, Leah, I never meant to break your heart like that. I'm sorry for trying to set you up with Nick. I wanted you to be happy, but I guess in the end I was just trying to protect myself. I hope you forgive me one day. I hope that you end up happy.
She grew depressed for a long time, and even cut herself a few times. But her mind kept swirling back to that phrase in the letter.
"I don't forgive you, Si, you were never meant to leave like that. You didn't mean to hurt me, but this hurts so much more," she whispers to herself, angry at herself for abandoning him when he needed her most.
It took Nora's suicide for her to clean herself up and start trying to live her life again.
"I'm going to do what would've made you happy, Si. I promise," she whispers to herself each morning, to keep herself going.
She goes out, talks to all the people she knows, makes new friends, forms new traditions. Dates guys and dumps them when they turn out to be awful. She finds the guy who treats her right, and she stays with him, eventually they get married.
She becomes a teacher, and her students love her. When they ask about the scars on her wrists, she explains that sometimes people go through a lot and come out okay like she did, but sometimes they don't.
She's attentive and watches her students like a hawk. If she notices that any of them are struggling, she makes an effort to help them.
She managed to stop a total of a hundred and sixty-nine students from committing suicide during her fifty years as a teacher. Only two students she failed to save, and she still has their pictures on her mantle piece, right next to Simon's. She prays for them above all others, the people she couldn't save in time.
She fosters and adopts kids who've come from bad backgrounds, and she does what she can to help them. A lot of them have depression or issues with self-worth or cutting, but she loves them all despite that and she helps them.
Above all, she tells each and every person who asks her about her opinion on suicide that "Suicide does not end the chance of things getting worse, suicide eliminates the chance of them getting better."
She can't bear to watch another child suffer so much that they take their own life.
~Bram~
The announcement that day had made his heart stop.
"Over the weekend, Simon Spier committed suicide."
Seven words, seven words for the world to crash down around the ears of everyone in the school.
He had no idea how to feel.
He was angry
He was guilty
He was in pain
He was upset
A Ferris wheel of emotions, none of them good.
The letter meant for 'Blue' was posted on CreekSecrets. He read it all.
Dear Blue,
I used to be just like you.
I was a closet gay kid at school, too terrified to come out. I didn't know how people would react, and that scared me. Having you there though, even if I could only ever talk to you via email, was comforting. You understood.
We're not like each other anymore.
I've been forced out, while you're in the closet. You probably still have heaps of friends, but mine deserted me. I'm constantly ridiculed for what gender I'm attracted to, and no one knows who you are to do the same.
I probably sound really bitter, but I don't feel bitter, just tired. I'm tired of being treated like a freak and the scum of the earth. I'm tired of my parents giving me those sad looks but never actually trying to help. I'm tired of feeling so alone after I was outed against my will.
Mom keeps telling me that things tend to get worse before they get better, but I don't know how much 'worse' I can take. I was blackmailed before I was outed, and despite doing everything my blackmailer wanted, they still outed me. I'm being called slurs constantly at school, and find homophobic paraphernalia being snuck into my locker on an almost daily basis. The bullying isn't as public anymore, but that doesn't mean its getting better. If anything, its worse.
The worst part of it though, is that I'm still receiving death threats, even three months later; and no one thinks to ask if I'm okay. The people who 'care' just look at me like they know what I'm dealing with, but they don't!
As for how I feel about you?
I love you Blue, I didn't stop loving you when you left me to save yourself. I don't think I could if I tried. For a while, I tried to figure out who you really are, but I don't care anymore. Whoever you are, I hope you are happy, and that one day you will be comfortable enough to come out on your own terms. Maybe if I had been ready enough, things for me wouldn't have been so bad.
Regardless, this is the last time you'll hear from me if all goes to plan.
For the final time:
Love,
Simon (Jacque).
He sobbed for an hour before crawling out of his room and telling his Mom that he was Blue. He put up a post about it mere hours later. Revealing himself in a final goodbye to Simon.
Dear Simon,
I'm sorry that you were struggling so badly. I was scared, I wasn't ready to be out yet, not fully. I love you, I really do, and my heart stopped when I heard that you had killed yourself. You helped me come out to my Dad, and today, I told my Mom. You gave me a courage I never had before.
When you were outed, I felt horrible for leaving you to suffer alone. It was selfish, and I wish I could take it back.
If I had known the bullying has gotten worse in private, I would have done something. I just didn't know what to do. I'm sorry that I didn't, and I wish I had stepped up to help.
I don't know how to feel about what's happening right now. I feel like I'm stuck on a Ferris wheel of emotions, rotating through anger, guilt, sadness, and pain. One moment I can't get up out of my bed because it hurts losing you; the next I feel like I'm about to punch something because dammit, you didn't deserve this.
I want to punch and pummel the people who made life so bad for you, including myself, but I know violence doesn't change anything, it won't bring you back.
I didn't stop loving you when you got outed and I retreated to save myself. If anything, I don't think I could ever stop loving you. I still love you, and I just know that I'll be coming by your final resting place with flowers and a pack of Oreos each week.
I'm going to keep living though, for both of us. You didn't make it to graduation, but I will, for both of us. Each milestone I reach that you should have reached as well, will be done for both of us. You'll be in my mind, constantly, Simon, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
You spent so long trying to figure out who I am, and that was a mistake on my part. My name is Bram Greenfield, and now everyone knows I'm gay.
Wishing that your 'plan' hadn't worked:
Love,
Bram (Blue).
People stared at him in the corridors, pointing.
Ethan came up to him and gave a comforting hug. "It doesn't get easier when you're out, but that doesn't mean you have to go through it alone. We're all guilty of abandoning Simon in one way or another. I won't let myself abandon you," Ethan told him.
When Martin tried to claim that it was thanks to him that he had come out, Bram had punched him saying that Martin had set the ball rolling for someone to die.
Bram did what he said he would. He went by the cemetery every week, leaving a bouquet of flowers and a pack of Oreos. He always talked for a while, telling Simon everything that had been happening.
At graduation, he stopped by the cemetery and put a graduation hat on the tombstone. He had graduated for both of them. Graduating from college, he did the same thing. He had gotten a degree for both of them.
He one day fell in love again, but Simon never left his heart. His partner didn't mind, he accepted that and loved him all the more for it.
They got married years later, and their first stop was the cemetery, to let Simon share in their milestone, because Bram was living for both of them.
Their adopted children grew up visiting Simon every weekend. It was a family ritual they never missed.
Years later, when Bram was old and very grey, he told his children – now all grown up – that he was going to visit Simon, one last time. He lay on the green grass next to Simon's grave, and closed his eyes. They never opened again.
A/N: Suicide is a very real issue. While I've never had someone close to me commit suicide, I have gone through a period of serious bullying that have made me feel like I wanted to die. If you ever feel like this, please, reach out for help. It doesn't have to be a parent, it can be anyone. Suicide is not a laughing matter, and that there are people who feel the need to kill themselves is horrible. I hope that by reading this, you start being more aware of how big of a deal suicide really is. I have attempted to make the situations that the characters went through as real as possible.
The quotes used in this fic are: "Suicide doesn't take away the pain, it gives it to someone else." - inspiration for title; and "Suicide does not end the chance of things getting worse, suicide eliminates the chance of them getting better." - Part of Leah's opinion on suicide. I do not know who penned these quotes. All rights go to them.