Warning: Contains mentions of cutting and suicidal thoughts. Very touchy subject matter.
Depression was never really something you never had to deal with...or at least something you thought you never had to deal with. You didn't understand it at the moment. To you, yeah, life was hard sometimes, even you yourself found yourself feeling down about it, but it was never something you felt the need to get sad about. Nah, life was too short for that.
Sure, there were many things you'd still like to change, but that was aside the point. Your weight would stay the same, you probably wouldn't grow to your desired height, and most likely, you'd spend the rest of your high school years without the multiple friends you'd like to have, but that was just fine. You accepted that. However, not everyone thought the way you did.
You remember when you came to this realization, but every time you thought on it, it made you want to cry. You allowed yourself so much as a choked gasp, but that would be all. The only reason you were thinking about it now was because the more you retold the story, the closer to closure you seemed to come.
It was...hmm...how many years ago was it now? You were sixteen at the time so...anyway, it happened your junior year of high school. It was a Saturday afternoon in the middle of the day. It was grey out that day, a slight fog hung around the board walk as the late summer/early fall heat stuck to the moisture in the air. You had been biking up the street, making your way to Lars' house to see if he wanted to play video games, as it was too hot to play outside. You had stopped your bike to tie your hair up in a ponytail before continuing on your journey.
"His mom better have the AC on..." You mumbled, finally reaching the house. You did not want to sit in a one-hundred degree house when it was only ninety-nine degrees outside. You climbed off your bike, letting it clank to the ground and get stuck in the dirt as you walk up to the front door. You're about to knock when you realize something odd; the door was already open.
Pushing past the slim opening, you enter the home, "Hello?" You call out, taking a short moment to enjoy the cool air you were first greeted by.
"Sadie?" Much to your surprize, it's Lars' mother who calls back to you. She is seated at the kitchen table, a couple of klenex held tight in her hands.
"H-hey...sorry, the door was already open..." You try to explain the sudden intrusion, but the women only gives a slight nod.
"Oh, it's alright...you know you're always welcome here..." She mumbles, standing from her seat and pacing the kitchen you both resided in.
"Um...is something wrong?" You step beside the woman, trying to get a look at her face. He eyes and nose are red and judging by the amount of kleenex you now notice in a waste paper basket beside the table, you know why, "D-did something happen?"
The woman only sinks to her knees, quickly pulling you into a tight hug and weeping yet again. You go rigid, unsure of how to react, "Uh...I-I'm sure it's alright..." You offer slowly, patting her on the back. You can't help but feel a sense of dread now, one that wont seem to go away. After a few tense moments, she pulls away, returning to her seat.
"Why do things have to be this way..." She whimpers, causing you to cast a curious glance.
"What way?" You look around the house now, "Where's Lars?"
The name, for some reason, seems to chill the mother in front of you before she looks up.
"His dad found him this morning in his room...he had cuts all over his body...and a note beside him...h-he..." She bites her lip, trying to will herself to say the rest, "H-he...was going to..." She can't continue, so you finish up.
"K-kill himself?" You ask, receiving a nod.
It was at that moment, and even this moment now, you felt a sudden emptiness, beginning in the pit of your stomach and working its way out. You're hands started to shake as you thought it over now. Those words strung together like that, it was all so unreal. The only proof you had was when your body betrayed you, carrying you up the two flights of stairs to the boy's room. The door was wide open, but the feeling that you weren't supposed to be in there hit you hard. Your numb legs carried you to the bed where you take a seat. A paper crumples beside you, causing you to look down.
The paper itself is crinkled, as if it had been held by multiple shaking hands. The corners were torn and much to your horror, covered in red spots.
"Maybe it's just written in red pen..." You mutter, slowly picking it up. The feeling that you shouldn't be in the room only hits you harder, but you hold your ground. The paper is steadily unfolded, as if opening it too fast would cause it to shatter some how. Once open, you carefully begin to read.
'It's better this way...everyone can be happier now. I'm not needed here. By the time anyone reads this, I'll probably be dead, not that anyone would care. Maybe they would, I dunno. Maybe mom and dad would finally be able to do half the shit they talked about doing...maybe Sadie could make some new friends instead of wasting her time with me. I never did get to be friends with Jenny and her friends, not that it would have made shit any better...I just can't take living in a world where everyone else is happy except me...I don't want to be lonely anymore. I can't stand another day of it...Sorry and I love everyone...I just wished they cared about me.'
You finish reading with tears in your eyes and clenched fists. You rub roughly at your eyes, desperately trying to stop the hot tears that slid down your cheeks, doing everything in your power to replace the sorrow you felt with anger.
How dare he. How dare he think the way he did! How could he have said those things!? HOW COULD HE HAVE DONE THIS TO YOU-
"What are you doing in here..."
You neck snaps up, looking in the direction of the voice.
There he was. The man of the house. Wrists bandaged up, a hospital band resting loosely around one of them. This reignited your anger, sending you flying at the boy.
"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!?" You yell, fists colliding with any part of the boy you could reach. Your anger was in over drive, sending more hits.
"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS YOURSELF," Hit, "YOUR FAMILY," Another hit, "ME!?" Your violence is reduced to sobs as your fists now find themselves tangled in the your friend's shirt. The body you're clinging so desperately to finally crumbled beside you, sobbing in just the same way.
"I'm sorry..."
"How could you!?"
"I-I'm sorry..."
"How..."
"I-"
"Lars, I d-don't u-understand it...I don't...Y-you have all of us...why would y-you do- think! W-why would you e-even THINK of s-something like this?" The tension is enough to send both of you in to tears again, his arms now wrapping just as tightly around you as your arms were around him.
"I-I just feel so l-lonely all the time..."
"Lars, you need help...you can't keep thinking this way." You look up slowly, "I love you...remember that, okay?"
He nods, but you know the phrase doesn't mean nearly as much as it could, but it was a start away.
In present time, you lay in bed, tearing up just a bit as you remember that day. It would be the first of many times like this, Lars crying in your arms while you reminded him over and over again that you cared for him. They would stop all together, but the feeling worry never left you.
Rolling on to your side, you close your eyes once more, trying to think of a happier time.
