Love. Hate. Despair. Happiness. I've been told many times to cherish life. Life is all you get that's meaningful in this world. Life is borrowed, so why not give it back to its rightful owner as soon as possible? I mean, who likes keeping borrowed things for way too long? I'm Selena and yes, I believe I don't deserve to be here. Yes, I am finally showing my deepest darkest secret. I, Selena Vasquez, am thinking about committing suicide. You may think I'm crazy, that I need therapy, but no shrink will cure how deep I'm into this shit. I'm not the only one out there who thinks the same way as I do. There is an estimated 10 to 20 million non-fatal attempted suicides every year worldwide. You don't know what I've gone through. What those 20 million people all over the world have gone through. Would you like to hear my story though? I'll take you back to the last day of a normal life for me. One day I will never forget. The only good memory still left imprinted in my head. All the others have been washed away with the horrible ones. When no one cared about anything but slowly changed because of one moment. Back to September 7th, 2008; freshman year in high school.
Tight skirts, baggy jeans, loose shirts, tight shirts. As I made my way through the now familiar halls of Methuen High, it was all you would see at the turn of a corner. I found myself and my best friend, Jennifer, to be the only unique ones in the entire school. To other eyes, we were "Gothic". Black nail polish, red and pink highlights, all black clothing, and so on. To me, it was how I was. I could remember the day like it was yesterday's breakfast. I wore my favorite black skinnies, with a white undershirt and a black skull shirt with holes to top it all off. Black and white Nike's, my hair flowed to the middle of my back, my bangs covered the left side of my face, and to top it all off, the infamous make-up.
"Mella!" A familiar voice squeaked down the hall. The yell made me jump, my head turning to where the screech came from, my eyes finding Jennifer running down the hall toward me. No longer than a second later, she had me in a huge bear hug, almost cutting off all the oxygen out of me.
"Jen…" I whispered, almost completely breathless.
As quick as the hug had began, she let her arms drop to her side, a sorry facial expression as she mumbled "I'm sorry."
A sly smile appeared on my powdered white lips as I threw the remainder of my books into the locker. I made my way to first period, trying to keep my hopes up for the rest of the day. The day went by normally. I met a couple of new friends, mingled here and there yet one girl specifically, Nicky, was constantly on me all day long. Nicky was a junior, had gone to Methuen schools since she was eligible for school at the age of five. She was the idol girl. Pretty long blond hair that reached the middle of her back, curled at the end as well. Not one pimple on her face. Proactive maybe or just never had one in her life. She stood at maybe 5'7", taller than me by an inch, something she took to an advantage. At 17, she was pregnant, three months to be exact. Something everyone seemed to applaud for some reason. I found it disgusting, slutty.
Nicky had chosen me as her target, pushing my buttons the entire day. For my own sake, I tried to keep a positive attitude, not wanting to fire back. Knowing Jennifer didn't like to see her get too rowdy. Nicky went too far at the end of the day, began picking on Jen as well. One thing I couldn't stand seeing was people bugging my friends, especially Jen. I stood up in front of her, yelling uncontrollably. She yelled back, and from the corner of my eye, I could see a small group begin to form. Everyone knew Nikki was pregnant, making me a bitch if I hit her. My blood boiled inside of me as she spoke, my hands balling up into fists as they quivered in anger. I felt two hands on my shoulders, stopping me from any other movements. For a minute I thought teacher till I heard a sincere voice in my ear.
"Calm down, Mella. She's not even worth it." Jen whispered lowly. I turned my head to see Jen's face, worry in her eyes. I knew she didn't want me to fight, especially a pregnant girl. The quivering in my hands stopped as I made my way past Nicky.
"Watch yourself…" I threatened in a low voice as the crowd began to disperse.
I now had the reputation of the 'tough gothic girl' I had decided to sleep over Jen's house, to get my mind off everything. We talked all night. Boys, school, drama, Nicky, sex, etc. We ended up crashing at about 4 am, to wake up for school the next day.
Nicky was the last of my worries through out high school, although she was constantly there. Nagging, always on my back. Luckily, Jen was always around keeping me from smacking her. I mean, her face wasn't pregnant, right? Smacking her wouldn't terminate her pregnancy; just leave my hand mark on her face. I shook the thought out of my head every time she came around, thinking of bigger problems at home. My mom began not caring about me anymore. I was barely a daughter to her. She neglected me and became a horrible drunk. Going through a divorce with the bastard, my father, she tended to blame me for everything. She blamed the departure of my father on me.
"It's your entire fault he's leaving! You worthless piece of crap!" She yelled before smacking me right in my face. The smack felt like needles all over my cheek. It felt as if someone continuously stabbed me until I was in complete pain. The tears immediately began running down my cheeks as my reflexes kicked in, forgetting it was my mother in front of me. My hand balled up into a fist, punching my mom under her jaw. I remember the cracking of her jaw on my knuckles. From the force I had just used, my hand felt broken as well, I held my hand as my mom dropped to the floor. Blood seeping out of her mouth as she laid there unconscious. Coming back to reality, I began sobbing as I ran to my room. What have I done? Who am I? I thought to myself as I slammed the door behind me. I rocked myself continuously on the bed, thinking back to the day's lesson in school; Suicide.
It gave me ideas, horrible ideas. Suicide doesn't sound like a bad idea… I thought to myself as I listen to the teacher read the article out loud. I'm not wanted in this hell hole... Then why not disappear... Forever. Thoughts that bounced in my head through out the whole lesson. That day I had gone straight home, logging into the computer and searching "suicide" in Google. All kinds of things had jumped out at her. The way people gave away their personal belongings right before they committed suicide.
How suicide constantly came up in every conversation they spoke of. How some friends don't even know their friends are suicidal until the day it happens. My mind bounced back to Jen. How would it affect Jen if I committed suicide? Nothing. She's better off without me. I thought to myself almost immediately. I found myself reaching over for my pillow. I had it since I was a baby. It had a name, baby, since I got it. It was full of little balls like it had been washed continuously, with cartoon network characters all over it. "I'll give Jen baby…" I said out loud as I softly stroked baby. I smiled to myself, shutting off the computer.
I found myself back to reality as I heard the front door close. I had baby in my hand again as I sat on the ledge of my window. It was sunny out, the radiation coming off the sun hitting my pale skin. Thinking it was just my mom that had gone out to get more booze; I was surprised when my door slowly opened. It was my father, my sincere facial expression changing to disgust.
"What do you what?" I asked coldly.
His face was sympathetic, but a grin was slowly growing on his pink lips. I thought back to the painful day that made me hate my father. The day that would stay with me for as long as I decided to live. The day that the only man I trusted became the main source of my sickness. The day he took my innocence and took advantage of me. My mind flashed back to the present, my father now standing beside me. He placed his ice cold hands on my thigh, the cold radiation seeping right though my jeans. He was always cold, just like his black hole of a heart. He let his fingers brush over my inner thigh as my hand reacted quickly. Not again…I thought to myself as my eyes burned into his skin.
"Don't… Touch… Me…" My cracking voice separated each word, making it almost impossible to talk. He gripped onto my dangling arm, his facial expression changing. He was now angry, lust in his eyes. His grip tightened as I squealed loudly, knowing it probably wouldn't make a difference anyways. Her mom was either unconscious or out buying more alcohol, never at home when he was home. His fear kicked in though, covering my mouth with his hand as he dragged me over to the bed. Throwing me onto the bed, I could feel my back instantly bruise up as it hit the backboard.
Before I was able to yell out for help, his hand was over my mouth. No, no, no. Please. NO! I screamed in my head, for some reason my thoughts could be heard. I closed my eyes, hoping it was just another nightmare and that I would wake up at any minute. He tore my clothes off my body, tearing them into small pieces with one hand. The cold air coming from the window stung me, making my eyes fly open, screaming into his hand. I couldn't see for much longer as he tied a blindfold over my eyes. My mouth was covered as well which was seemed as a dirty sock, easier for him of course. In a matter of a few minutes, he had destroyed yet another patch of dreams, getting me closer to what I am today. After the second time, I was never the same again.
The Selena Vasquez everyone knew didn't exist anymore.
School wasn't the same anymore. Nothing at all was the same and Jen seemed to have noticed. I went from a straight A student to straight F's. I barely ate, sometimes an apple or a pear, never anything big. My hair went from constantly straightened to an 'I don't care about my looks' look. Buns, curly with nothing in it, messy pony tails, nothing. I felt like nothing was worth it anymore.
I had begun thinking about suicide more. Thinking of the people who would be happy I was gone. People like Nicky and my mother. Teachers would probably mourn her death. Speak of what a 'good student' I was. Things I was used to hearing every day. I began cutting myself as well. Beginning with my arms, I would take the Gillette from one end of my arm to the other, letting it bleed out as it lightly grazed over my vein. I would sit there for 15-20 minutes, letting the blood seep out, releasing any pain that I held in that week.
Filling my arms with cuts, I began cutting my legs, not finding any other place to do it. I would do the same things I did to my arms, letting the blood seep out till I felt dizzy. I began thinking about Jen. What would Jen think of me if she finds this out? I thought to myself, looking at my scarred legs and arms through the mirror. I sighed gently, thinking to myself I finally had to tell Jen.
Weeks past, me bringing up in the conversation statements like "What would you do if I die?" and "Would you cry if I killed myself?" Jen would just look at me with a dumbfounded face, trying to make out what I was reaching to. She would never guess though, or question it. I found it easier to keep a straight face and not break down crying in school like I would once I got home. I would cry myself to sleep, my mom drinking uncontrollably in the other room. It felt as if my feelings began numbing, like I didn't have any feelings anymore. I didn't know how to love, to hate, dream, feel, hurt, nothing. The cuts I continuously gave myself started feeling like small scratches. I watched as the blood seeped out, motionless. The squirming had gone away. I began getting used to it.
I would look at the multiple bottles of pills all over the house, thinking if I just overdosed, it would be easier. I would caress the bottle in my hand as I sat on my bed, the wind lightly hitting my face, making my curly hair flow. No… That's being a coward… I would constantly say to myself, shoving the bottle of pills under my bed again. I began not caring about my looks, wearing the same outfit three, four or five times a week. Bags began to form under my eyes from the depriving of sleep.
Jen would constantly ask why I would separate myself from everyone, especially her. "Why are you acting so different?" She would ask once we would be alone.
"It's nothing Jen. I'm not different." I would say coldly every time. Forgetting I was talking to the person who cared for me the most in the coldest way possible. I started missing school constantly, not showing up for classes or just leaving in the middle of school.
As I made my way out the door one May morning, I felt a hand stop me by my shoulder. CRAP! I yelled in my head, thinking I was finally caught. I turned around slowly, facing Jen.
"Can we talk?" She asked softly.
I nodded, almost spaced out. Her eyes were red, as if she had been crying. Her eyebrows narrowed a bit, walking behind Jen out of the school. We took the bus towards the reservoir, a place where we constantly talked. For the first couple of minutes, she stayed quiet, walking through the cemetery in awkward silence. She stopped me all of a sudden, as I noticed she had been crying silently.
"What's been going on with you?" She asked her voice breaking.
"What do you mean" I answered in a question, trying to keep the conversation out of her mind. "What's wrong with you? And why are you crying?" I continued asking, the coldness not leaving my voice.
"No… Don't turn this towards me. Why are you isolating yourself? Leaving me out of your life? What's wrong with you Mella? You've never acted like this…" She said, the tears uncontrollably falling down her face.
I let out a soft sigh, walking over to the ledge of the sidewalk, sitting down. "Sit down…" I told her, not watching her as she sat beside me as she was told. I sat with my knees prompt up, my arms leaning against it, making the sleeve of my sweater roll up, the cuts showing slightly. Jen looked at it but didn't say anything.
"I want to show you something…" She told me, as I turned just my head. She rose up her sleeves, showing me the slices in her arms. My first impression was there's nothing I can do about it if I cut myself. Wait a minute… No! I thought to myself, my first impression being that Jen was suicidal as well.
"What the hell Jen!" I yelled out, jumping up, noticing I overreacted a bit. But overreacting made her happy for some reason as she lightly touched my shoulder.
"Calm down… I'll tell you everything…" Jen said lowly as she began her story. She told me every little problem in her life that led her to cutting. Family problems, school, stress and so on. All that went through my head was You don't have it as bad as I do… I softly nodded as she spoke, trying to act like I was interested as my mind wandered off on ways to kill myself anytime soon. No! Stop! My conscious yelled at me and Jen finished her story. "That's why I cut…" She whispered her eyes full of tears.
"Don't cry love…" I whispered, pulling her in for a hug. I wrapped my arms around her neck, holding my tears back as well. "Everything will be alright…" I whispered and hoped.
We separated, both walking toward our own houses. I racked in my head what to do. Walking into my house, my mom came out of a corner, bloody red eyes and began yelling. Usual routine, but she took it up a notch that day.
"Useless piece of shit!" She yelled out as she smacked me.
I began breathing heavily as I fell to the ground, looking up at her with a sly smirk. Death was in my eyes and she could see it. I stood up, shaking my head as if I was a maniac. "Big mistake, mother. Huge one." I said as I leaped on top of her, punching anywhere she was. I got her nose, her mouth, one eye and her chest multiple times. It was the hardest I had ever beaten on my mom, my knuckles all bloody. What have I become? I yelled in my head, running to my room as I always do when I hurt my mom.
But instead of crying like every time, I grabbed a pencil and a paper and began writing.
Dear Bestie,
I began writing.
"Life isn't an easy task" they say. Some believe that is has it's downs so we won't get bored. That's pretty much understandable but for life to be this hard it's unbearable. Something I find extremely ironic is that people believe my life is perfect. People assume a smile on my face equals happiness. That's far from the truth…
I shook uncontrollably as I continued the letter.
The smile I put on hides every single emotion that runs through my veins. It hides pain, sadness and emptiness. That is the truth that lies within me. Try to figure out my secret and see if you can stop me.
Love you always,
Selena Vasquez.
I began folding up the letter, my hands still not back to its full stability. I took a deep breath, grabbing an envelope from my drawer and writing Jen's address on it. I tucked the letter into the envelope and headed outside. My mom still lay unconscious on the floor as I made my way outside, dropping the letter through the mailbox. My eyes welled up with tears as I walked inside.
I decided to not go to school anymore. I would trap myself in my room for the next month or so, not wanting any contact at all with anyone. The phone continuously rang over and over again, school probably. Finally tired of the ringing, I stood up, walking over to the phone. "Hello?" I answered, sniffling a bit.
"What are you talking about?" Jen yelled in the other line. "Try to figure out my secret and see if you can stop me? What is wrong with you Selena?" She whimpered in the background, crying without stopping.
"Calm down!" I yelled out, not noticing how loud my voice was. "Calm down… I'll tell you everything…" I whispered. "But no sympathy!" I yelled out, as I quieted down again, telling her from the beginning. Nicky, my dad, my mom, school, stress, everything. By the end, we were both in tears.
"Oh my gosh, Mella. Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, blowing her nose a bit.
"Scared it would get out?" I said lowly, sighing gently. "But now you know… Will you be okay?" I asked, as she sniffled a bit.
"Yeah… Thank you for telling me. But I have to go. Bye hon." She said lowly, and hung up.
Goodbye forever… I thought to myself as I hung the phone up as well.
This is my last day alive and that's a promise to all. Today, I kill myself. I've already got it planned out. The bathroom is the perfect place. Overdose. The most painless way. I'm done. I don't want anything to do with this world. I love Jen. And I told her already. It's time for me to go…
Suicide in Methuen Mass
Fifteen year old Selena Vasquez, student of Methuen High and daughter to Jane Vasquez committed suicide in her own bathroom two nights ago. Unknown the reason, best friend Jennifer Gomez will not give up any source or any reason as of why she has taken her own life….