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Losing Grip

Written by: SimplyUs

Prologue

As far as I can tell
It's just voices in my head
Am I talking to myself?
'Cause I don't know what I just said

As far as where I fell
Maybe I'm better off dead
Am I at the end of nowhere
Is this as good as it gets?

And now I've been gone for so long
I can't remember who was wrong
All innocence is long gone
I pledge allegiance to a world of disbelief
Where I belong

A walking disaster
The son of all bastards
You regret you made me
It's too late to save me

-Walking Disaster by Sum41-

Mikan's P.O.V

The lights flickered as I lay on my back on the stretcher. A couple of people who looked like doctors where on one side of the stretcher while Hotaru was on the other side. I turned my head slightly to look at her; tears were streaming down her face.

"Hotaru," I whispered hoarsely. My throat felt dry. "W-what's happening?"

"Don't worry Mikan. You're going to be okay," she said.

"What happened?" I asked again. That's when she burst into tears, crying her heart out.

"Ma'am," one of the doctors said. "You've got to go. We're entering the ER room now." Hotaru immediately let go of the stretcher as I was brought inside a room. I was placed under a light. A lady came up to me with a syringe; she lightly tapped the needle and inserted it in my arm.

Everything started to blurred; I felt so sleepy and my eyes started to droop. I slowly slipped out of consciousness as everything came back to me.

***

I picked up my cup of coffee as Hotaru entered the kitchen. Hotaru was dressed in a dark blue skirt with a white top. "Hey, Mikan." She called me but I didn't respond.

"I heard you didn't turn up at the café today."

"I quit." I took a sip of my coffee.

"You quit without telling your boss?"

"Fine, if I should." I got up and walked up to her. "I quit," I said, handing her the cup as I went to sit on the sofa. Hotaru followed me; she watched me switched on the TV and sighed. "Mikan, it's been three months. You can't go on moping forever."

"Watch me," I replied grimly.

"Mikan." She placed the cup on the table.

"What do you want, Hotaru?" I shouted.

"I hate seeing you like this. The Mikan I knew would never behave this way… I never saw her moping and I want her back."

"The Mikan you knew died three months ago."

"I don't believe that's true. Look, why don't you come with me tonight and we'll ask Ruka to take us to one of the club? It'll be nice to meet new people. What do you say?"

I didn't respond. I didn't want to go out. I didn't want to meet new people. I just wanted to be left alone.

The doorbell rang. Hotaru hesitated to leave but she went to open it. "Hi, Ruka; come in." Hotaru came back with Ruka and a bouquet of flowers.

"Hey, Mikan," Ruka said. I responded by waving my hand.

"I'll just put these in a vase," Hotaru said as she went in to the kitchen. "Oh, Ruka would it be okay if Mikan came with us? Maybe we could go to a club."

"Well, sure. I don't mind," he said.

Hotaru came back with the flowers which were now in a vase. "So, what do you say Mikan?"

"No; I don't think I'll come." Hotaru looked at Ruka who shrugged.

"Ruka, why don't you wait out for a while? I'll come out in a minute."

"Sure. Bye, Mikan."

Hotaru sighed. "Mikan, why can't you just…"

"Look, I've made my decision. Now go have fun," I said, switching channels. I didn't bother to look at her. I heard her walk away and the sound of her slamming the door shut.

I switched off the TV and walked towards the bathroom. I took out a note which I had written a few weeks back. I opened one of the cupboards and took out one of the medicine bottle. I placed one on my palm, and then emptied the entire content. I put them into my mouth and swallowed them. I placed the note on one of the shelves and took out a small knife from my pocket.

A tear made its way down my cheek.

I held my wrist and placed the knife on it.

I'm so sorry Hotaru. I can't stand my life anymore…not without Ryan.

Please forgive me.

"I'm so sorry." I whispered as I pressed the knife on my wrist, slitting it with as much force as I could muster.

***

I was lying on one of the hospital beds. There was a white cloth wrapped around my left wrist and an IV attached to my right hand. Hotaru was sitting on the chair next to my bed.

"How was I rescued so quickly?"

"I sensed that something was wrong and came to the apartment. When no one answered the door, I panicked."

"But why? Didn't you read my note? I wanted to die."

"…"

"Hotaru, please just let me go. I can't continue living anymore."

"Look, I've had enough of this shit! Everyday we have the same argument. Every single day, Mikan! You think you're the only one who's hurting but just so you know, seeing you depressed everyday makes my heart sad. It hurts me too!" she shouted.

"I didn't know."

"The doctors said that you might be suffering from um…what's it called? I don't know but it has something to do with depression. Anyway they suggested for you to be sent to a rehabilitation center for recovery."

"So, that's it, isn't it? You think I've gone mad," I shouted trying to get up but I couldn't. I looked down and saw my hand strapped to the bed. "What the hell is this?!"

"The doctors said you might try to commit suicide again. Mikan, it's for your own good. Now, please stop struggling."

"No! Get me out of this thing!" I screamed.

"No, Mikan. Stop!"

"No, I'm not going anywhere! No!" Doctors rushed into the room and one of them had a syringe. "No!" The doctor inserted it in my arm while the others tried to hold me still. "Let go of me!" I screamed even louder.

Then I calmed down as everything became blurry. "Please don't let them take me away." I whispered. "Ryan…"

Natsume's POV

I could hear a faint buzzing sound around me. I couldn't see anything, everything was black. There was an unexplainable ache in my body. What was this place? Was this Heaven or Hell? It must be Hell, for there's no way I would end up in Heaven, considering everything I had done.

The brief story of my life flashed in front of me: a six-year-old me witnessing my mother talking to the air, a seven-year-old me meeting my father for the very first time, a nine-year-old me seeing my mother crying like there's no tomorrow, a ten-year-old me helping my mother unpacking our things to our new house, an eleven-year-old me seeing my mother screaming at no one in particular and hitting herself, a twelve-year-old me hugged by my smiling mother, a thirteen-year-old me seeing my mother's lifeless figure on the floor with an empty medicine bottle beside her, a thirteen-year-old me being escorted by the police to stay with my father, a thirteen-year-old me seeing my new 'family' for the very first time, a fourteen-year-old me standing at the corner of the classroom, a fifteen-year-old me surrounded by girls after a basketball game, a fifteen-year-old me on top of a cliff, a sixteen-year-old me throwing things to my bedroom's wall, and finally, a seventeen-year-old me with a gun pointed to my chest.

Did it hurt when I pulled the trigger?

I didn't know. I remembered briefly contemplating on where to shoot: my head or my chest. I decided to point the gun to my chest, hoping the bullet would go straight to my heart, stopping it from beating. Was I hesitating when I pulled the trigger? As far as I knew, I didn't. I knew what I wanted and I had enough of my fucked up life.

Through my half-closed eyelids, I could see my sister coming to the room, screaming loudly. Why was she home? I thought nobody was supposed to be home. Why was she screaming? Was she afraid that I had stained the carpet of my room? Or was she horrified that she had to see a soon-to-be corpse? Was she afraid that I would haunt her for the rest of her life? Would she ask her parents to move out of the house, afraid of the memory in this room?

She frantically reached for the phone in my room. I didn't know who she was calling and I didn't give a damn about it. I was finally freed of all this pain, but would I really die? Had the bullet hit my heart? Or was it halted by my ribs? Why was I still seeing my room? Or maybe I had died and I was a ghost now?

She was crying now, kneeling beside me. Why was she crying? Did she care for me? Why was I still in a lot of pain? I wanted to die; I wanted to go after my mother and everybody else that died before me. I didn't want to stay here and live my messed up life. What was the point of living actually?

I didn't have the chance to think again for I lost my consciousness that minute, finally falling to a deep slumber.

***

My not-so-peaceful sleep wasn't for long though, I woke up to an unfamiliar room. My head hurt and I was sure that I hadn't died yet. I heard the beeping sound of a heart monitor and figured out that I was in the hospital. My so-called parents were standing beside my bed, both looking either angry or worried. My sister was nowhere to be found.

"Natsume, what were you thinking?!" my father yelled at me. I didn't answer him. What was I thinking? He wouldn't understand even if I answered. My step-mother sobbed quietly beside him, her long auburn hair in a mess. How long had I been in here?

"Please, don't ever do that again. You scared all of us," she said.

My head throbbed with pain, my eyes squinting, adjusting to the light. I couldn't believe this. I was alive. Alive, of all things. Alive was the least thing I wanted in the world. I wanted to succumb into the darkness again. I should've shot my head. That way, I would be dead for sure. I shouldn't have been afraid of brain damages. What good could my brain do when I was dead?

"Answer me, Natsume," my father said sternly. I glared at him. "Fine, you won't answer us now, but you'll have to answer us immediately. I have to tell you though, the doctors are putting you under a suicide watch for the next few days and then you'll be sent to a rehabilitation center."

Whatever you say, dad, I don't care. I might not be dead physically, but I was already dead emotionally. It was just a matter of time before my physical being would die as well; I just had to wait again.

"Natsume, why? You can always talk to us if you have problems. Why must you do it? We're here, Natsume," my step-mother said.

No, you're never there. I don't need other people's help. I wanted to tell them so, but I was numb, I couldn't move.

"Your mother is right, Natsume. We're here, and your sister is here as well," he said.

No, both of you are not, my sister isn't even here. And she's not my mother. If they wanted to help me so much, then why now? Why not before? Where were they when I needed them the most? Did I ever need them? I didn't think so.

It was too late now… I was too deep in the darkness for them to save me.

End of Prologue

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