Why hello there.
I humbly thank you for taking time to read this story. The idea's been sitting around in my head for months, and I've had this chapter written down for weeks, and just now worked up the courage to post it. I've put much thought into my OC, to the point where she should be developed with her own flaws and strengths. If any of you believe she is on the track to becoming a Mary Sue, please tell me so I can stop that.
Construction criticism is very greatly appreciated. Like a lot. I like criticism. It helps me get better at this stuff, so gimme some.
Warning: Explicit mentions of suicide and depression- which are in fact very vital to this story and the first chapter. I will tell you know that a huge theme of this story is going to be getting over these things, so don't start thinking the OC is going to be whiny and tragic the entire story. Trust me, she learns her lesson this chapter.
Disclaimer: This story has a 137% chance of occasional (maybe more- not sure yet) violence, gore, and death, so viewer discretion is advised. Also, since this story is about reincarnation and shit, there will probably be a talking baby. Or gifted five year old. Who knows. Fullmetal Alchemist is 1342% not mine, also. Beware hordes of OCs that may not last, and long wait for canon to hit. 115% chance of f-bombs and other naugty words.
Let's get to it, then.
In life, I was nothing.
There are 7 billion people in our world. 7 billion people, each trudging through their own piece of life, and in case you didn't realize, 7 billion is quite a lot. I was one in those 7 billion. Just one. One tiny speck, a little piece of nothingness.
I was nothing. Normal. Average. Painstakingly, utterly, average.
Life should have been easy for me. I had so many great things, so many blessings... but I never made use of them. I was quite stupid like that.
Tell me, have you ever been so low that you wanted nothing more than to just disappear?
Once upon a time, I was happy. I had a few close friends, and I loved them with all my heart. I was by no stretch of the imagination popular, but that was one thing that I couldn't give a damn about. With those three friends of mine, I felt like I could do anything. Whenever I was with them, I felt like I was on top of the world. They made me invincible, in a way that I had been before.
There was this one girl in particular. She was the one who broke down my walls. Before she came along, I was that one timid girl in the back of the class who never spoke to anyone. Too many times had I been bullied, put down, until all I wanted was to curl up in the corner forever, to just have them all forget about me.
I still remember the day she found me like not a minute has gone by. She had been switched into my class, and her smile lit up the room like no other. When the teacher asked her where she wanted to sit, she looked right at me, and pointed to the empty seat saying "right there," with that same bright smile. At first, I didn't like how she was trying to disturb my peaceful bubble, but eventually, she got me to open up to her, and before either of us knew it, I had become part of her group of friends.
Little by little, I opened up to them. I changed. They made me into the person I had always wanted to be, even though I had never admitted it to myself. I was no longer that quiet girl who sat in the back of the class with her nose stuck in her book. No, instead I was the smiling, outgoing happy girl I had always wanted to be. Who still loved her books though- that would never change. Don't get me wrong, it's not as if I was whacked with some magic wand and cured of all awkwardness. The process took years. My friends, however, were with me every step of the way, threatening the people who had once controlled me with their words and encouraging me. I could not have loved them for it, and everything else they did for me.
I still remember the day I grabbed her wrist.
We were on our way to lunch to meet up with the others, and I had excitedly grabbed her wrist to pull her along with me. She tried to hide it, but I noticed anyway.
I noticed the way she cringed when I had pressed down, the way she had almost cried out.
"Hey," I asked her cautiously, "are you alright?" She sent me a shaky smile.
"Yeah! Don't worry about me!" she had said. Frowning, I grabbed her arm and pulled up her long sleeves before she could react.
That was when all the random loose ends, which I had never even guessed had meant anything, came threading together to slap me in the face with the truth, and leave me wondering how, just how I hadn't known.
It suddenly made sense why she wore long sleeves everyday, why she always wore bracelets. Why she never went swimming with the rest of us, or wore anything that exposed much skin.
Her arm was completely covered in countless, straight, scars. These were the kind of scars they talked about once you got to middle school- "kids," they would say, "make sure that if you ever need help you get it, never resort to hurting yourself"- though I had never seen them in real life. The kind that were done late at night when you locked yourself in the bathroom with a razor blade.
"Why?" I had asked her, my eyes never leaving her arms.
Immediately, with tears gathering in her eyes, she told me, as if she had been waiting all along. Her parents... were monsters. They abused her. Though they never touched her, what they said hurt her just as much. Every day they played with her head, placing horrible thoughts into it and making her believe they were true. They made her hate herself...
Every. Single. Day.
I hated her parents. I despised them. Like a lioness protecting her pride, I wanted nothing more than to just get her away from those monsters, to save her how she had saved me.
Unfortunately, rather than a lioness I was more of a tabby cat, and I was a coward.
"Don't do it again," I whispered in her ear as I held her in a tight hug, so sure that those simple words could help her. I believed so strongly that she would be alright. My childish faith led me to believe that my simple actions would be enough to show me how utterly loved she was.
How naive was I? Didn't I realize that those words were not enough? She needed far more than a hug and someone telling her not to, but I didn't give it to her.
She didn't let me know that... Instead, she simply hugged me back.
"I won't," she had whispered.
I was such an idiot for believing her.
I still remember the day I got the call. It had been a fairly good day. My friends and I had ditched school, like we seemed to do quite a lot, but she hadn't been there that day. I told myself to call her to make sure she was alright the second I had gotten back from school.
But I forgot. I forgot to make sure she was alright.
It wasn't until right before I went to bed that I remembered I was supposed to call her. I was supposed to make sure everything was alright. But I didn't.
The call reminded me.
The call sent me spiraling back into my own depths of hell.
The call informed me of my best friend's suicide.
One day, things had just gotten too much for her. Her three best friends just weren't enough to save her. And eventually, death became a better option than living in this hell hole we call a world.
After she died, the rest of our group fell apart. Every time we saw each other, it was like we were experiencing her death all over again. For a long time, we tried. We really did. But the pain was too much, too unbearable.
And so, we just stopped trying.
And I was all alone, once again.
For a long time, I wondered if this was God's sick way of punishing me. That I deserved all this because I had been too damn stupid and distracted to remember to call to check in on my best friend. After all, if I did, she just might still be alive.
It was all my fault.
I shut myself off from everyone and everything. My family would repeatedly try, in vain, to save me, to get me to move on. I would answer in silence or by lashing out at them.
And eventually, even they stopped trying.
I went back into the girl I used to be, only this time people left me alone. It wasn't because they held respect for me, because I knew for a fact that they definitely didn't, and that the only difference from before I met her was that they were thinking the insults instead of saying them.
And the only reason they didn't say them, was because they pitied me. I was the best friend of the girl who killed herself.
I guess they still had just enough humanity left in their bones to not bully that girl.
But the pain only got stronger, and stronger, and strongerandstrongerandstronger. Without my friends to hold me up, I was breaking apart. I could feel myself falling, shattering, slipping.
Life was pointless. Meaningless. There was no one in the world who needed me. I was unnecessary.
I was nothing.
And eventually, even I stopped trying.
And so, I followed her example.
One day, when my sister was out with her friends and my parents were both at work, I decided it was about time I joined my best friend. I was simply tired. Tired of hurting. I didn't know where the hell I would go in death, but I just knew, I knew, that wherever it was, it would be better than here.
And so, with the noose tied around my neck and the rope tied around my ceiling fan, I kicked the chair out from underneath me, and felt my life slowly being sucked away.
It was when my breathing ceased and my heart stopped beating that things got weird.
One second I was there, hanging from the ceiling, and the next... I was standing about a foot away from my own body, looking right into its lifeless eyes.
It was so fast, so quick, so unpredictable, like the snap of your fingers, or the fire of a gun.
I took in a sharp breath as I reached out to touch my own dead body, as if to make sure it was really there, and this wasn't some trick. But I could feel my own skin on my fingertips, I could see the details my own dead eyes staring off at nothing.
I did this.
I plopped down onto the floor, landing on my knees, and brought my shaking hands up to my face. I sat there staring at my transparent fucking hands for a while, taking in deep, shaky, hysterical breaths.
"Oh God," I whispered, my voice tiny and timid. "Ohgodohgodohgodohgod." I looked back up at my own fucking corpse, taking in how for some reason I was still fucking here, seperate from my own dead body, when I was supposed to be gonegonegone.
"Why am I still here?! I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to fucking be here!" My voice was utterly hysterical, treading the line of insane. "I'm supposed to be gone- anywhere but fucking here!"
Tears streamed down my face, as I pounded my fists down on the floor repeatedly with all my strength. But it didn't hurt. It didn't hurt at all.
"Nononono. NO! This can't be happening!" Only making myself angrier about how I wasn't hurting myself by my furious punches, I finally stopped, grabbing my knees and pulling them into my chest. "This can't be happening. It's not possible. It's not fucking possible." The sobs took over my body about then, my body heaving up and down, hiccuping uncontrollably as more and more and more and more tears showed themselves. I eventually curled myself into a ball, sprawled across the floor. I cried and cried for who knows how long, until my eyes finally seemed to run out of water to give, and instead settled for staring blankly at my wall, looking anywhere but the body, anywhere but the body.
Time seemed to tick by so slowly as I layed there on my bedroom floor, my mind numb as I tried to do anything but think.
I didn't want to think. I didn't want to realize what was happening. Ididn'twanttoIdidn'tfuckingwantto.
It was a while before I heard the door open as my parents both got home from their shared workplace.
"Honey!" my mom's kind and warm voice called. "We brought home Papa John's!"
Papa John's. Pizza. My favorite. They brought home my favorite.
"Honey!" my mom called again before sighing when there was no answer.
"She's probably listening to that music of hers again," my dad said. I could practically hear the smile in his voice, that was no doubt about to disappear. My mom laughed that joyous laugh of hers before heading upstairs to get me. I could her hear footsteps as she trudged towards my room.
Step.
Step.
Step.
"Don't come in." I whispered. "Don't come in, Mom, don't come in, please don't come in."
She came in anyway.
My eyes were fixed at the doorway, unable to move away from her. Her eyes though, were the opposite.
They didn't even see me.
They drifted right over the me that was curled up in a tight ball, not even acknowledging my presence. Instead, they drifted over to the other me. The me that was dead.
Her eyes widened in pure horror, before she fell to her knees, her body shaking uncontrollably.
And then she left out the most pain filled, terrified, and heart broken wail I had ever heard.
My dad was there in a second, probably terrified for my mother and whatever had made her scream that way.
He froze the second he saw into my room, though.
"Oh God," he whispered as he fell to his knees along with my mother.
"My baby, my baby. Not my baby," my mother's voice came, though it sounded nothing like normal.
"I'm right here, Mom. I'm right here. I'm right here! Why can't you see me?" I begged the woman that I had tried to leave.
She just kept sobbing.
My dad held her, his body shaking as well from sobs as he moved Mom out of the room so she didn't have to look. I didn't follow them.
I didn't want to see them. I wasn't supposed to be able to see them. I was supposed to be in heaven, or hell, or some kind of purgatory, or just something. This isn't what was supposed to happen in death.
I squeezed my eyes shut, doing anything I could to block out my parents' cries. Maybe I fell asleep. Maybe my mind was just so numb, so empty, that time flew by as if I was asleep.
Either way, I wished I had never woken up.
When my eyes snapped open, the body was gone. The house was deathly silent. There was not one movement, one sound. It was suffocating.
I stayed in my room. I didn't leave it. Not for the next four days. After all, I wouldn't have to face my family if I stayed there. They were all too scared to even step close to my room.
But keeping myself holed up in that room didn't keep me from hearing my family's anguish. I could still hear my mother's loud wails late at night, and my father's best attempt at comforting her, though his voice never sounded much more stable than her's. I could hear my sister when she came home late into the night and her stumbled steps as she tried to make it to her bedroom.
But the worst thing was the silence. There was no talking. My sister was never home. My mother stared off into the distance. My father threw himself into his work. Even when they were together, no words were spoken.
The silence did nothing but leave me alone with my own thoughts. And since I was doing everything in my power to keep my mind off my family, that left my situation.
Why the hell was I still here? Is this what happens to everyone in death? Stuck in something far worse than what we were part of in life, nothing but an observer?
Before I died, one of the conclusions I reached was that everything in this damn universe is an illusion. There are no certainties. Who's to say that I was ever really alive? Who's to say that I ever died? That what I'm thinking, feeling, hearing, saying... who's to say any of it's real?
We live in a world where we truly know nothing. Knowelge itself is nothing but an illusion.
After all, in a world full of uncertainties, who wouldn't want to pretend that they know something? Who wouldn't want to find the truth? A certainty?
The only certainty in our world is that nothing is certain.
I suppose at one point I fooled myself into believing that death would solve everything. That I would find a ceratainty, and that everything would just turn out all right.
But it doesn't work that way.
It was on the third day I reached a revelation. Death was supposed to relieve my pain. I was supposed to be somewhere better. But I was wrong. Death was horrible. It was the worst pain I had ever experienced. There were no 'outs'. Even suicide wouldn't bring me the relief I craved.
I realized that pain was unavoidable. That I was trapped, enduring the most unimaginable pain in existence. There was no way out. I would never get out.
The funeral was held four days after my suicide. I didn't want to go. I didn't want to see people mourning me because I was to weak to stay with them. I didn't want a reminder of all the mistakes I had made.
But I went anyway. In my body that no one else could see, I went to the funeral area. It was as if something was pulling me there, like the least I could do for the people I had abandoned was be there for them at this time.
Even if they wouldn't know it.
I remember the way my sister showed up, her walk stumbled and her words slurred, and I knew immediately that she was drunk. Every night she came home she was. She was only 18.
I watched as my distant relatives snook disapproving glances at her out of the corner of their eyes, or my younger cousins looked at her with horrible pity in their eyes.
My mother and father sat in the first row, their eyes fixed to my coffin, and I wondered if they had even noticed my sister arrive.
Lots of people from my school showed up. I wanted to be angry with them; for making me hate myself and destroying me with their words, then showing up at my funeral like we were the closest of friends.
But when I looked into their regretful eyes, I couldn't seem to find it in me.
My two best friends were there as well, standing at the back rather than sitting down with the rest of the attendants.
"All of us have lost a beautiful girl," the preist began, my mom letting out a sob. "She will be missed so incredibly much. Today, I welcome her friends and family, or anyone else who shares with me the regret that we let such a wonderful girl slip through our fingers, to say goodbye."
Halfway through the ceremony, I overheard a girl from my school whispering to her boyfriend.
"I always wanted to be her friend, you know," she whispered, wiping her tears furiously. "But I was so scared. I always thought that if I reached out to her, they'd bully me too. And then she made those friends, and she was always so happy and glowing, sometimes it took my breath away." A bitter smile made it's way to her face.
"And now we've lost two of those four girls, both to suicide. What great classmates we were, huh?" Her last words were sarcastic and obviously cut into her boyfriend, as he let out a choked sound and buried his head into her shoulder. She did the same.
They didn't stop crying for the rest of the funeral.
Watching those two, I think I realized for the first time that we were all just kids. Most of the time, we didn't realize what we were doing. We were all impulsive brats, who thought they knew what they were doing but truly had no clue.
We were but kids.
I kept my eyes away from my best friends and family the best I could. I couldn't bear to look at them any more. I found myself wondering just how this preist had so many things to say about me, a girl he had never met.
"She lived a great life, surrounded by people who loved her. All of us here gather to celebrate and rejoice the time she spent here with us."
After that sentence from the preist, I heard a scoff come from behind me. I knew immediately who it was- the sarcastic tone and low yet feminine voice I knew so well that belonged to one of my best friends.
"'A great life?' 'Celebrate it?' You've got to be fucking kidding me," she spoke up, causing everyone's eyes to move from the preist to her. Mine stayed fixed ahead. I couldn't look at her. I couldn't.
"She spent most of her life with no friends. Score 1 for her. She was also bullied and ridiculed by half the kids at our school, who by the way all just show up at her funeral like they were best friends forever. Score 2. When she finally did make some friends, when she finally was happy, guess what the fuck happened? The one that gave her that happiness fucking killed herself! Score 3! What a peachy life!"
"Hana, stop it," my other best friend whispered. At this point I couldn't look away. It was unbearable to hear them talk this way but not even look at their faces.
My friend grabbed Hana's arm, gently tugging it to try to get her to stop. She only brushed her off.
"You know what? No! These bastards need to hear this! She did not live a happy life, no matter how much you try to fool yourself into thinking she did! Maybe she would have been able to keep going after Maggie died, but you weren't there for her! None of you bitches sitting here talking about 'celebrating her life' did anything for her! Maybe you tried at one point, but there is no way you can honestly say that you did every fucking thing you could! Becuase if you did, she wouldn't be fucking dead!"
"Hana, stop it! Now!" My friend grabbed Hana's arms, holding her back from practically pouncing on the crowd of people, which she looked ready to do at any moment.
Hana thrashed violently. "SHE'S DEAD BECAUSE THE PEOPLE SITTING HERE DIDN'T DO EVERYTHING THEY COULD TO SAVE HER! So how fucking dare you talk about celebrating her life that you could have saved?!"
"HANA!"
"But I'm no different, am I? Julie and I... We left her when she needed us most, and all because we were too damn weak. She wasn't happy. Her life was short, and sad, and full of torture and emptiness. And it's too fucking late to do anything about it now. How do you celebrate a life in which the person living it had no reason to celebrate? None of us have any reason to celebrate. She's gone. She's dead. She's never coming back. And none of us, not even me, did anything to stop that."
Hana's eyes turned vacant and lifeless towards the end. She didn't even seem to be aware of the countless tears streaming down her face. But she didn't let out a sob. She didn't make another sound. She just fell to her knees, her eyes never losing that vacant look as they stared at nothing in particular.
Julie collapsed with Hana, her arms wrapped around her in a tight embrace. Though where Hana didn't make a sound, Julie was the opposite. Her wails were loud and painfilled, as she sobbed enough for both of them.
They sat there on the ground, and I faintly recognized my feet moving closer and closer to my only two friends who were still alive. I fell to my knees directly in front of the two, allowing the tears to come that I had shut out for the past four days.
"I'm so sorry," I muttered, wrapping my arms around my two close friends who were stuck together like glue. I buried my head into them, allowing myself to believe that they could feel me as much as I could feel them.
My words caught in my throat. "Oh Julie... Hana... I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry."
For a little I fooled myself into believing that I could get through to them. That some of my warmth would reach them, and that it would comfort them, letting them know that I was there, that I loved them, that they didn't do anything wrong and that it was all me who made the mistake.
But saying sorry doesn't fix everything. Hugs won't magically make people feel better. Especially not when you're dead.
Because I realized that day that there's a reason no one believes in ghosts.
I zoned out after that. The funeral went on, once people were over Hana's outburst. I didn't listen to anything else. I shut it all out. I left before the funeral even ended.
I walked all the way back home. I don't really know why I went back home instead of leaving and never coming back. Maybe it was because I felt too guilty leaving my family alone, even if they didn't know I was there. Maybe it was because I was too scared to leave my house, my safety blanket, especially when I had no idea what layed beyond it.
It was a while before my parents came home with their distant and numb eyes. It looked as if they wanted to cry, but had finally run out of tears. I didn't follow them into the house. Instead, I sat in my driveway, not daring to go back into that house.
Things didn't get better. Minutes turned into hours, hours into days, days into weeks. Eventually I forgot just how much time had passed. Or maybe I stopped caring.
My sister barely came home. And when she did, she always stumbled into the house, her words slurred, reeking of alcohol. She partied all night, slept with a new boy every day. Anything to get her mind off her dead younger sister, right? A wedge drove itself between her and my parents, and I knew that in my suicide they had not only lost me, but her as well.
It was the day Hana and Julie came over that things changed for me. My sister was the one who answered the door, still drunk after one of her parties. I remember the shock on Julie's and Hana's faces when they took in the state of my sister. My parent's invited the two inside, putting on their best smiles, though everyone knew they were fake. They showed my friends to my room.
My parents didn't go in with them. They hadn't been in my room since that night.
But I did. I followed them all the way inside.
Hana and Julie stepped into my room with blank faces. Everything inside of it was exactly how I left it. Nothing had been touched. The look on their faces was nothing short of horrified.
"This is all our fault," Julie whispered, sitting cautiously down on my bed.
"Yeah. Yeah it is," Hana added, standing stiffly.
"No," I tried to say. "Don't you dare blame yourselves. You weren't the ones who killed yourself. You weren't the one who was too much of a coward to keep fighting!"
I felt something inside of me break. I was sick and tired of seeing the people I loved blame themselves for my mistakes. This wasn't their fault, so why couldn't they see that?!
"Sometimes I wonder if maybe everything would work out better if I just did what her and Maggie did..." Hana said, staring up at the ceiling fan.
My eyes widened in shock.
Julie leaned up in an instant, staring at Hana with wide eyes, before her eyes softened. "Yeah. Me too."
"No! You two can't do that! You're supposed to be the strong ones! You're supposed to be happy without me!" I yelled.
They didn't hear me.
"God damn it, listen to me! Don't you dare do what I did, you hear me? DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!"
"Hana! Julie! I'm right here! Why can't you see me? Why? Why is this happening?"
"STOP IGNORING ME! FUCKING ANSWER ME ALREADY! DON'T YOU DARE HURT YOURSELVES! LISTEN TO ME!"
"Please, I'm begging you, please please don't do what I did. Please, please, please..."
I don't know how long I yelled at the two of them. I don't know how long they stayed in my room, staring silently up at the ceiling fan that stayed completely still.
I just kept screaming. And screaming. And screaming and screaming and screaming.
But they couldn't hear me. No one could.
"AHHHHH!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, the sound echoing throughout the house. But only for me. No one else could hear.
I punched the wall. Over and over and over. But no matter how many times I did, or how much force I put into it, there was no dent left, no pain in my hand.
I didn't exist anymore.
Eventually I slid down the wall, collapsing on the floor, and just stared at my two best friends, who hadn't moved throughout my entire outburst.
"Please, please don't make the same mistakes I did. I want you to hear me, I want to be able to tell you two I love you and that I shouldn't have left, but I can't, because I'm fucking dead! Just live... for me."
As I layed there on the ground, feeling lower than I ever had in my life, I remember wishing that there was a way to kill yourself, even if you're already dead.
"But wouldn't that just be making the same mistake you already did?"
A voice echoed from the other side of the room, and I spun my head around at lightning speed. Someone had talked, and it sounded like they were talking to me!
"No..." I muttered, my eyes already filling with tears as I stared at the girl I thought I would never see again.
"Hey Carrot Top," she said gently, using my old nickname.
"Maggie?" I asked incerdulously, my eyes never leaving her face.
She let out a small laugh. "Well, of course! Who else would come to visit you in your death?"
I only stared at her, not really believing this was happening.
The smile faded from her face a little. "What, no greeting?"
"Wh- why are you here?"
"Don't tell anyone, but I'm breaking the rules to be here. You're not exactly in top condition," she said, a sad look on her face.
"B-breaking the rules? You mean... there's more to death than this?"
She laughed again. "Carrot Top, death is just like life in one aspect. It's limitless."
"Then where the hell have you been?! I thought I was all alone! I thought... I thought I would never be able to see you again!" I yelled at her.
"Well, for starters, I've been wandering the Earth. Seeing the things I could never see when I was alive. And let me tell you, it can actually be really fun being dead!"
"Why... why didn't you come until now?"
"You needed to see the affects of your suicide. You needed to see that it was a mistake."
My eyes widened is shock and anger. "You're kidding, right? Look who's talking! Don't you realize that you're the reason I killed myself in the first place?! Everything changed when I lost you! I couldn't live anymore! This is all your fault!"
I don't know exactly why I lashed out at her; all of the anger from the past week that I hadn't been able to vent was just building up and up inside. But all that anger vanished when I saw the tears gathering in her eyes.
"I know, Carrot. Trust me, I know that more than anyone. And I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have left you," she choked out. I stayed silent for a moment, realizing that she regretted her own suicide just as much as I did.
"It's my fault."
"What is, dear Carrot?"
"It's my fault you're dead."
The simple words seemed to echo around the deathly silent house, and I realized I hated the look of pity Maggie gave me in that moment. I didn't deserve to be pitied.
"No, it's not," she said simply, giving my cheek a pat. "It was my decision, and I regret it. It's no ones fault but mine that I'm dead."
I wiped furiously at the tears gathering in my eyes, trying to ignore the selfish feeling of relief welling up inside of me.
"So... what happens now?" I asked after a while.
"Well, you go where you need to be," she answered with a small smile.
"...And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Just as vulgar as ever, I see," she said with a giggle. "It means that things get better. Once you let go, once you forgive yourself, you can move on. You can find happiness."
"Then why are you still here?"
She shrugged. "My place is here on Earth. But you, Carrot, you don't belong here. You never did."
"You're still being incredibly cryptic."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's only because I don't know much more than you do."
"Well then, you're a huge help. So how on Earth would I do this whole 'letting go' thing in the first place?"
My eyes wandered over to our two best friends, who were still staring at the ceiling in silence, oblivious to the conversation going on around them.
Maggie followed my eyes. "Do you believe in them?" she asked quietly.
"Of course I do," I said without hesitation.
"Then believe that they'll get better. Believe that they'll push through this."
"But I couldn't," I reminded her, my voice quiet.
"But they're not you, are they?"
"Maybe not, but-"
"Believe in them."
I blinked, astounded at the sternness on Maggie's face. I had never hear her sound so sure of herself before.
A moment later I let out a small sigh. "Yeah, they always were the strongest ones in our little group, weren't they?"
Maggie smiled. "Yep. We were always the weak ones, in all honesty."
"You know," Hana's voice cut through our conversation, causing Maggie and I to snap our heads towards her. "Sometimes I feel like they're still here. Like they're watching over us still, eagerly waiting for all of us to smile again." She sighed. "It's probably just wishful thinking, though."
Julie looked at her curiously, before smiling slightly.
"Me too."
At those words, I felt like a million worries had been lifted off of my chest.
"I told you so," Maggie said, with her usual cocky smile.
"And you always were the smarter one," I replied, smiling slightly for the first time in weeks.
And that's when I laughed.
I don't quite know how, because at that point I remember feeling as if I had forgotten how to laugh. But I did it anyways. It was long, and loud, and the happiest thing I had done in days.
It was hopeful.
"You were right, Maggie! They're gonna be fine! I just know it! My sister and parents too; they're all gonna be fine! Probably not tomorrow, or anytime soon, but they're gonna get through this! I know it!"
I beamed as I looked at Maggie, who only smiled slightly in return.
"Isn't that what I've been telling you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, yeah. You've always got to brag a bit, don't you?"
"Just a little. After all, I've got so much to brag about," she joked, sending me a wink. I smiled again, before Maggie asked me another question.
"Do you regret it?"
I immediately knew what she was talking about. What else could it be.
"Of course," I replied instantly, my voice cracking.
"Then why? Why did you kill yourself?"
"Because I'm a coward."
Maggie narrowed her eyes. "I said, why did you do it?"
"Because I'm a coward!"
"No! Why did you kill yourself?!" Maggie pressed, yelling at the top of her lungs.
I paused, tears gathering in my eyes once again. "Because I thought things would get better," I breathed.
"Correct," Maggie said, smiling. "Now tell me, have things gotten much better?"
I shook my head quickly. "Not at all."
"But are you going to run away again?"
My eyes widened.
Running away... that's all I had been doing my whole life. I relied so much on running away.
But I didn't want to run away anymore. I want to be able to stand on my own two feet, and feel proud of myself.
"Or are you going to push through? Are you going to keep sitting here moping, wishing that things had been different, or are you going to get out there and do something with your pathetic life? You can't do anything here. So why would you stay?"
It was silent for a good minute before I spoke again. "I'm scared, Maggie. I don't know what's out there. I don't know what's going to happen, to me, or to the ones I love. You know that I've always been scared of the unknown."
"So face it," she pressed, her gaze stern. "Overcome that fear. Become the person you never could in this life."
"...How?"
She smiled. "Promise me, promise me that wherever you go after this, you'll keep going. You won't cave. You'll stay strong, and push through whatever come your way. Promise not only for me, for Julie and Hana, for your sister and parents, but for the people in your future who are going to come to love you just as much as we did. Promise that you will never quit again."
I stared at her in awe for a moment, before nodding my head quickly. "Of course."
"Say it."
"I, Carrot Top, hereby swear to never quit again," I said, with a small smirk, holding my hand to my heart. Maggie laughed and took two wide steps towards me, quickly engulfing me in a tight embrace.
"I love you a lot, you know that, right?" she asked cautiously.
I buried my face into her hair, realizing just how real she felt. She was dead, but she was here, helping me. "Everyone does," I whispered back jokingly. She laughed again, but this time it sounded almost like a choke.
She leaned back a little to look in my eyes. "I can't tell you how glad I am that I talked to that shy girl in the back of the glass all those years ago."
I smiled back. "Me too, Mags. Thank you. For everything."
She closed her eyes slowly, as if bracing herself for what she was about to say. "Go say goodbye."
I blinked. "What?"
She sighed. "Moving on means moving on. You have to let go."
I looked once again towards Julie and Hana. "I believe in them," I whispered, more to myself than to Maggie. I looked back over to Maggie before nodding. "Okay."
Her eyes widened. "Wow. I thought it was going to take more convincing than that."
I chuckled a little as I stepped back and walked slowly towards my friends. Without turning back to look at Maggie, I answered her. "Yeah, well, you've always had a way with words. You were the only one who could ever get me to change my mind on something."
"And you've always been the most stubborn person I've ever met in my life..." she muttered. I rolled my eyes before leaning down to my two friends, who laid across my bed.
"Goodbye," I whispered, leaning in to kiss the two of them on the forehead. I paused when I noticed Julie grow a questioning look and Hana reached a hand up to her forehead where I had just kissed her.
I grinned. They had felt it. I knew it. I had been able to give them just a little of reassurance, no matter how tiny. I began walking towards the door of my room, shooting one last glance to the two. "I love you guys. Thank you."
I bounded down the stairs quickly, Maggie following close behind. My dad, mom, and sister were surprisingly all in the living room together, staring at the tv with dead eyes. I ran towards my older sister first, throwing my arms around her.
"I know we didn't always get along, but thank you for being the best older sister I could have ever asked for," I whispered in her ear, planting a kiss on her cheek.
"Mom, Dad," I began, feeling the tears gathering in my eyes again, "I know I haven't always been the best daughter, especially the last couple of months. And I know that you were always trying your hardest to help me. Even if I didn't realize that before, I do now. I may be dead, but my sister isn't. Love her for me. Don't let her go. Be there for each other. I have a feeling that this is it, and that after this I won't be seeing any of you again." I paused, feeling my throat begin to close up. "I don't know where I'll be going, but I promise I will always be your little girl."
I leaned forward to hug the two around the neck, pretending once again that they could feel me. My body shook with sobs. "I love you guys," I choked out.
A few minutes later, I leaned back and felt Maggie grab my hand comfortingly.
"I have to go soon," she whispered.
"Why?"
"Well, I'm actually not supposed to be here in the first place. You're supposed to move on on your own," she replied sheepishly. I stared at her with wide eyes before laughing a little.
"Yeah, well, I wouldn't exactly expect you to become little miss innocent, even in death. You always were a rule breaker."
"Just like you," she teased, before her face turned serious. "Listen, I really do need to get back. Some advice: when you let go, you'll meet someone. Make sure to tell him nothing but the truth. That guy likes honesty. Anyway, he's going to judge you. Try to make a good impression, because he pretty much decides what the hell happens to you. Oh, and don't let him scare you. I think the twisted shit feeds off it or something."
I nodded. "Alright so tell the truth, make him like me, and don't be intimidated. Sounds easy enough."
She scoffed. "Yeah, let's see you say that when you come face to face with him."
I raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Well I need to face my fears, right? Maybe this guy is the first step."
"A step that's 50 feet in the air and you have to climb up a steep wall to get to-"
"Okay, seriously, I think you're scaring me more than you're helping me at this point."
"Right, right. One more thing-"
She was cut off when she literally started glowing.
"...Wow. How original."
"No time for sassy remarks!" Maggie cut in, grabbing my hands in hers. "Listen, knowing you, you're going to be sent to one crazy ass world. You need to prepare yourself."
"What are you saying? Sent to another world? And how do I even prepare myself-"
She grabbed my face in her hands, looking sternly into my eyes, the glow around her only becoming stronger.
"Fight," she whispered. "Fight for the things you will come to love. Don't let them be taken away from you. Prepare yourself."
I nodded, deciding not to question her. Besides, I was barely processing her words. All I could think about was-
"Are you going to leave me?" I asked quietly, my voice shaking. The corners of her lips tipped upwards slightly.
"I'll never leave you," she said sadly. "This was my chance to make up for all the pain I've caused you. This is my redemption."
She paused, leaning in to plant a tiny kiss to my forehead. "Goodbye, Carrot Top."
I shut my eyes tightly, trying to block out the tears that had been coming too many times. And when I opened my eyes again, she was gone.
"Maggie?" I called, voice cracking. "Maggie, where are you? You can't leave me, Maggie. You can't leave."
I looked frantically around the room, finding no trace of my dear friend who had been here only mere seconds ago.
"You already left me once, don't you dare do it again, Maggie!" I demanded, angry tears gathering in my eyes, my hands balling into fists.
I paced back and forth, before turning my furious gaze up to the ceiling. "Hey, bastard! Maggie told me all about you! How you like the damn truth, well here you go! You are a horrible being who does nothing to stop the suffering of this world! And you know what? I'm fucking done. I'm done! Just take me out already!"
I screamed furiously when nothing happened. "What, you're still going to ignore me? What else do you have to take away from me?! You've taken everything! You fucking bastard! I'm done with your shit! TAKE ME AWAY! You hear me? I'm letting go! I'M LETTING GO, YOU FUCKTARD!"
I paused, my breaths coming in and out quickly, my face red from fury. My gaze shifted over to my family, still sitting on the couch, still staring blankly at the tv.
I stared at them. I stared at those three people I had brought unimaginable pain to.
"I'm letting go," I repeated, my voice much quieter and echoing in the silence of my own house, my eyes still fixed on the people I loved most in this world. I faintly registered the sound of my multiple tears hitting the ground. "I'm letting go."
And that was when my own glow started.
I let out a choked scoff. "About time, fuckface," I muttered, looking back up to the ceiling, before looking back to my loved ones.
"I'm so sorry," I told my family again. "I'm sorry I've brought you so much pain. I'm sorry I quit. I'm sorry for not fighting hard enough. I'm sorry I left you. I'm sorry for being for a horrible daughter and sister. But I promise you," I paused, my voice getting caught in my throat.
"I will never make those mistakes again."
I had never meant any words more in my life.
"I love you," I told them one last time, the glow around me becoming almost blinding now.
And, in those last few seconds before I was whisked away, I could have sworn I saw my family's eyes flicker over to me, with the tiniest of smiles on their faces.
Welcome back- depending on if you made it through that. If you did, I officially love you.
This chapter is more of a prologue than anything. Why am I calling it Chapter 1 then, instead of Prologue you may be asking?
Simply because then the next chapter would have that thing where it goes 2. Chapter 1 cause fanfiction numbers the chapters and every other chapter would be one off, and I just can't deal with that. I can't. It's physically impossible.
As you can tell, I have not killed myself, nor have I known anyone who has (though I and a few friends of mind have been diagnosed with depression). This means that my portrayal of suicide and how people are affected by it could be completely off, but this is somewhat how I think it would go down.
One of the topics tackled here- one suicide leading to another- is a real word issue, commonly addressed as "cluster suicides." They generally take place among teenagers. One person's suicide either gives another inspiration to do the act themself when they were previously too scared, or the suicide sends someone else into a deep depression where they can end up taking their lives as well. Learning about these cluster suicides was what inspired this character's backstory. I also wanted to write a story showing a person's regret of their own suicide, and thought the perfect way to do that would to have them stuck on the Earth to see the pain they have caused others.
And thus, Carrot Top was born. Not her real name by the way, just a nickname. Can any of you guess why she's called Carrot Top?
Sorry for the long author's notes this chapter, but before I go, I'm going to end this on a cheesy but serious note.
If any of you are struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, please get help. As a person who has been there, I can tell you it gets better- but only if you put in the effort. The world will not magically change for you one day, and as cruel as that may sound, it's true. You have to be the one to make the change, otherwise things may only get worse.
And if any of you are scared to get help, scared of what your friends and family will think of you if they know, then come talk to me. Once again, cheesy, I know, but it really does help to talk. And sometimes it's easier to do that with some random face over the internet than anyone else.
'Cause I love you guys.
Signing off, and see you next chapter.