Cry for Help

by Joy Katie

This is a major trigger warning story. I started writing this for a reason. I intend to write it when I need to. It is not something that will have frequent updates. She wanted help. She needed it. She didn't know how to ask for it. Sometimes help comes from the most unexpected of places. But a silent cry for help doesn't necessarily mean you are ready to accept it. M for themes.

3. Realisation

Regina was steadfast in her decision, in her thoughts, but for some reason, she felt as if she needed to talk it through with someone. And when it came to deciding who, there was only one answer. It was not the one she expected. She pulled the stool closer and sat down, facing the general direction that she usually did when she was talking to her mother.

"I need to run something by you. It's going to sound crazy, believe me I know that, but it feels as though I have come to a realisation and I can't tell if it's a good thing or a bad thing. To put it bluntly, I think my realisation is that I am not scared to die. I used to be. But now, it's just like I am waiting for it to happen. Or at least that I will be ready for it when it does. The future doesn't scare me anymore, because whenever anything happens that I thought I'd be scared of… I just think 'well it's okay because I'll be dead before then'. And I know that that seems redundant, with everything you taught me mother, but really, I'm being brave. I'm making my own decisions and I'm taking charge of my own life, and I'm not letting anyone make decisions for me. I'm living like you raised me to be. Except in this case… well I guess living means dying. But that's okay. Because that's what I want."

As she finished speaking, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. She'd been trying to piece together how she felt ever since she first spoke to Archie all those weeks ago. Things had improved for her, she wasn't always feeling so low, but the thought was always there in the back of her mind. She knew she couldn't explain her realisation to anyone living, it would hurt them or it would hurt her, but she couldn't keep it inside her anymore. For the first time, telling her mother something had caused her feelings of relief, not pain and sadness.

"Regina?" The word shook the woman to her core, the sound echoing through the otherwise now silent room. She turned to face the intruder, who stood staring at her, pale faced, as if they had seen a ghost. She could tell by the anguished look in their eyes that they had heard what she had been saying.