Author's Note: Okay...first off, this is based of a kind of true story. Everything except these people happened in the past few days for me. It sucked. One of my friends from school decided to commit suicide. He was gay, and was bullied about it. I tried to be supportive, and I tried to stand up for him, but I guess it wasn't enough. His suicide note was written to me. All it said was 'Thank you.' That's why I've been offline. It's a personal story, but I wanted to share it with you guys.
Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush.
He looked down at the pill bottle, thinking about what he would lose if he went through with his plan. There were a few things he could think of, like the chance to meet his possible kids. Most importantly, though, he would lose his life.
Yet he already knew his life wasn't important. He couldn't take the pain of seeing his family break apart. He couldn't bear to see his parents argue so much. He didn't want to deal with the beatings his uncle gave him. He didn't want to burden anyone else with his problems either. He just wanted it to all end.
He wasn't sure how his friends would react to him leaving. The way he felt, nothing they said would ever change his mind. He knew that he would hurt them, but he also knew that they would be way better off without him. There wasn't a place left in the world for him, and he couldn't take it anymore. He just couldn't.
He put one of the pills in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow. He never had liked pills, and this was no exception.
He took another pill. Then another. He took so many he lost count. He only stopped when he felt a sickening feeling in his stomach. He put the pills down and looked at the bottle. There were only four pills left in the bottle, but he really didn't think he could stand to swallow another pill.
He could feel his heart beating faster, and his breathing soon became quick. Everything became distant and blurry to him. He moved his head and his movements felt sluggish. He wished it would just end.
"What's going on?" a boy opened the door and saw him on the bed. "Oh, no! No! Guys!"
The boy's words were muffled to him. Soon two other boys joined him, and he could see their mouths moving, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He was just so tired and he wanted to go to sleep. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take over.
His last thought was, Forgive me, guys, but you're better off now.
/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Three young men stood in front of a grave. They were huddled close together for comfort and warmth in the cold December air. The snow seemed to make the marble gravestone shine, and the words had snow packed into them, making them stand out against the dark stone.
"Why didn't you talk to us?" one of the boys asked. "We knew you were hurting, but not this bad."
The silence seemed to break their spirit even more than anything else.
"We'll never forget you," the smallest of the boys said, his voice breaking. He let out a sob and the other two pulled him closer.
Finally, they walked away, still huddled together like they never wanted to let go of each other. The ghost of the lost boy watched after them, wondering what they meant. He turned to look at the gravestone and read what it said.
Carlos Garcia
August 15, 1995* – September 21, 2011
A beloved brother, friend, and son.
Never forgotten
Author's Note: I don't mind if you don't like it, or if you think it's stupid. The story isn't what is important right now. It's the message. Please, if you're depressed or suicidal, reach out for help. You can PM me, or go to my profile page. I'm going to put up one of my emails. If you know anyone who's depressed, reach out to help them. You don't know what they're going through until they tell you. Never judge a book by its cover. Never bully anyone just because they're "different." You don't know how much what you say can hurt. Some people are easily broken and are hard to put back together. Thanks for reading.
*I just went off what his birthday would be in the show, or what I think it would be. The year, anyway.
-Tori
P.S. Please talk to someone.