Based off of the song Slipped Away by Avril Lavigne.
"One," I say angrily. Why is Beck being such an idiot.
"Two." Beck should be at the door, ready to open it.
"Three." Why hasn't he opened it yet?
"Four." When he opens the door, I'll slap him for being such an idiot.
"Five." Stop being so stupid, Beck.
"Six." I only have four numbers left. Hurry!
"Seven." If he opens the door I'll kiss him and hug him and say, I'm sorry.
"Eight." Please?
"Nine." He's not coming, is he.
"Ten!" I shout. Silence. The door remains closed. I reach for the shiney door handle of the Vega residence. I grab it, ready to fling the door open and say, I'm sorry, Beck. I'm an idiot! But something stops me.
He dosen't care.
He doesn't love me anymore. It hurts, but I know it's true. I turn to leave, a hot tear streaming down my cheek. I amazingly manage not to glance back at the house.
He's gone.
I start the engine to my car and drive away. I don't listen to any music on the way home. I'm not in the mood.
I enter my house and head up to my room. Then, I grab my razor blade out from my journal. I add five cuts to my already cut filled legs. Something about it feels so good, like maybe I'm worth something. But then I think of Beck and I know that I'm not worth anything.
In fact, why should I even live at all? I then get an idea and run into my mom's room. I grab all of her anti-depressants and anti-psychotics and a bottle of scotch. Then, I down the medicene and wait for it to kill me. I slowly feel myself dying and it feels great. Soon I'll be gone.
As soon as I'm almost gone and my heart slows to a stop, I hear someone yell, "Jade!" before I drift into unconsciousness.
Short, I know, but this just sets up the story. The next chapter will be longer.