I know it means nothing now - or will it ever - but this is my last chance to make things right. I was blinded by someone who I thought I could trust. Someone who I idolized as if he was God himself, which is ironic since my name means "gift from God." But if God is real and I'm supposed to be his gift, how come all I do is hurt those around me? Anger has completely consumed me which in result makes me the product of a ticking time bomb.
Tick.
The love of my life was drugged by my own hand.
Tick.
I accidentally overdosed her.
Click.
Keep the secrets she took to the unmarked grave.
Cause if you don't, you or your best friend is next. Even though she can be a snobby bitch, you don't wish her harm. Despite your words in the heat of the moment, you truly didn't want anyone to get hurt. It's bad enough she's already swooned by the ringmaster of it all - if you even want to call him that. He controls my every move as he's lurking around every corner, making sure I don't fuck up again. It's bad enough that I drugged - and tried to kill another girl - without his supervision. Now my lamp is broken and I can see his shadow in the corner of my room before I sleep. The same sleep where I have continuous nightmares of the same girl dying. Her eyeliner smeared down her face, the blue feather dangling from her ear, and her hazel eyes glaring daggers into my soul as her own left.
"Nathan," she told me, "I thought we were friends."
We were. Maybe a bit more, even if it was one sided. But by then, she was too far gone. I don't remember her actual last words but I do remember the last breath. How she was taped to the same chair he still uses for the other victims, begging to be free. How she was so full of life a few days prior to barely opening her eyes. The same eyes that cried every time she became conscious and widened at the flash of a camera, realizing the hell she was in. She wanted to be a model but not like that. Anything but that.
What about the scarred angel? The one who tried to take her own life after a wild party. I dosed her drink, the same one she insisted wouldn't make her drunk. But after a few minutes, she was the most free she had ever been. A blessing for her in the moment, but a sin afterwards. She tries to commit suicide a few days later because of you.
That was almost two deaths on your hands.
What about the boy with brown curly hair? How he wouldn't hurt a soul due to his heart of gold. How you threatened a blue haired girl in the bathroom for pushing you too far. Not to mention, it's the same girl who broke your fucking lamp because you just so happened to drug her too. But her best friend was there at the time, hiding in the shadows. You overheard the best friend talking shit about you, so you confronted her. It gets heated, thanks to you. Next thing you know, you're in a fistfight with the boy with curly brown hair, who has a crush on her. But then it happens again… and you're on the floor having flashbacks.
Not just any flashbacks, ones from your father. How you tried so hard to please him but it would never be enough. Nothing will ever be enough. The certificate on the wall, saying you're the best son, will never be enough for either of you. You force a smile to the public, but behind closed doors he's striking you repeatedly. So when someone offers you a simple hug or high five, you flinch. You're always on alert.
But despite all of this, there's only one person that will listen to your final cry. You're desperate at this point. I'm desperate at this point. It's the best friend of the blue haired girl, the one that hid. She found out everything. About the girl with the blue feather, how the ringmaster tricked me, and how I'm associated with him. This wasn't supposed to happen. Nobody was supposed to find out. I'm terrified of what's to come. Not to me, but for her. I knew I was going to die at a young age. I take a shit ton of diet pills, drugs, and drown myself in alcohol. It was bound to happen by suicide or someone else.
So, that's where I'm at. I'm supposed to be at a party I helped fund. I could hear the music from a distance, the red lights brightening up the sky from across campus. But instead of spending my last moments getting blackout drunk, I was in my room. The handle of the door was broken, letting anyone enter my room unwanted. The music stopped. God, it's going to happen soon. I paced the suffocating dark room for the last time, knowing that this would be my last moments. It's only a matter of maybe ten minutes until my end.
I had to do something.
If these were my last moments, I wanted to try and do something good. Even if it was probably too late.
Sitting down on the cold leather sofa in my room, my leg began to bounce nervously. I didn't know what to say or do. Words were hard to form just like my thoughts. I wanted to say so much but I didn't have enough time. I could've reported everything earlier if I wasn't so afraid. But if I risked it now, my own best friend would be at risk. Or the sneaky girl who found everything out. Either way, anyone in this situation is fucked.
All because I'm a coward.
With a shaky breath, I scrolled through my text messages. I pressed her inbox and scanned over the messages I sent her. They were in all caps and threatening, trying to make her stop investigating everything. I was such a dick to her and everyone else. But I did it in hopes to scare them off. But she was ruthless, she didn't care. I applaud her, honestly. I hit her name again before hitting the call button. Here goes nothing. My mouth was dry as I trembled in fear. Will she pick up? Is it too late? Is he standing right outside my door, waiting for me? The phone rang and rang and rang for what felt like forever, until I heard the god awful robot voice telling me to take a message. God damn it, here it goes.
"Max? It's… it's Nathan…" I muttered in defeat.
