I wasn't sure. At this point, I wasn't sure about anything. I examined the pocketknife I was holding in my hand. I doubted that it could do much harm to my superhuman body, but maybe I'd still die if I plunged it into my heart. Could it possibly be worth it?
Life these days was getting to be just too much, it seemed. My parents didn't understand me, not like they ever had, and nor would they ever. And that was just my parents. School was downright horrifying, and I hadn't even worked up the guts to ask Kim out yet. I was almost positive I'd get rejected. Why would someone like her respond to someone like me? She was perfect in every way. She held the universe together. And what was I but a freak of nature? Kim would probably run screaming if I ever told her the truth about me, who I really was.
The rest of the Pack had problems of their own to deal with. Jacob, who had first phased very recently, was all torn up over some girl who liked to hang around with leeches. Sam's ex girlfriend who he loved a whole darn lot before he imprinted on Emily, Leah, was giving him hell as usual. Poor guy. Paul was still having some trouble keeping his anger under control. No surprise there. And then there was Embry, who seemed to dwell in his own thoughts most of the time. No, my brothers had other things to do than give me advice and life help.
If I died, would anyone be sad? I wasn't sure about my parents. Then again, when was I ever? The Pack, maybe; I was close enough to them that they might be affected in some way if I were to mysteriously drop dead. They could hear my thoughts, though, so committing suicide might not have been the easiest solution in the first place.
If I phased right before I performed that unthinkable act of finally letting my restless, boiling blood taint the ground, my brothers would hear and understand, and being the noble wolves that they were, it was quite possible that they could try to stop me. I could probably find a way around that, though. I didn't have to phase. I hated phasing. Phasing was what had brought my life to this point of despair in the first place!
It wouldn't be so bad. I'd be free from all the pain and misunderstanding of this dark, imperfect, insensitive world. I leaned back in my little chair on Emily's porch and continued to gaze at the knife and contemplate this new idea.
Right then, I decided to conduct a little experiment. I slashed the knife's blade against the soft, light skin right beneath my left palm. To my surprise, I felt a sharp stab of pain. I pulled the now bloodstained knife away. Well, I wasn't indestructible, but at least I wasn't made of rock, like the bloodsuckers. Blood was already pulsing to the surface of the small cut, and yet at the same time, it was already starting to heal.
Still, I had a real decision to face now. That knife would break the delicate skin covering my pounding heart so easily, and it would be over so quickly . . . obviously, that wasn't a wound that would heal so easily. I'd be dead before the mark had a chance to fade. As I thought and thought about it, the idea of suicide began to appeal to me more and more.
Well, I guess I should just get it over with. Forget phasing. It doesn't matter what the others think. This is just too much, I thought.
As I raised the knife and prepared to bring it down, I felt a pang of the finality of it all. With that stab, it would be all over. Forever. As I started to bring that blade toward my heart, time seemed to stop. This was it, it was all over. So this was what it felt like, mere seconds away from the end.
As I braced myself for the final blow, a car suddenly came by, out of the blue, stirring up the gravel. It was a battered green SUV and the windows were too heavily tinted for me to see the driver. As it passed, I caught a glimpse of the bright yellow license plate. I didn't catch what state it was, but I did notice two small but significant words at the bottom: choose life.
Now, I'd like to say that that plate gave me some sort of major epiphany moment and changed my entire lifestyle, or something life that. After all, it had to be a sign of some sort. That didn't exactly happen, seeing as I still get depressed sometimes, though not nearly as often as when this all happened. However, that's not to say it didn't affect me at all. In my shock, I dropped the knife, and pure adrenaline pulsed through my veins. The knife clattered down to the gravel.
It was still there. I could still pick up that seemingly small tool and finish what I'd started. But the next few things that entered my mind were what turned the situation around.
Of course, a small voice in my head still screamed, Get it over with! End it all! But this time, a larger, stronger voice drowned it out.
If you kill yourself, even if you end up in heaven, you won't be at peace because Kim won't be there with you. She'll be in a completely different world, and thus heaven will become hell for some time. And when she dies and joins you up there, she'll think you're a selfish coward because you couldn't handle this world and possibly affected all your friends forever by committing suicide.
I jumped to my feet, smoothly knocking my chair over. Damn! That couldn't happen! I couldn't have Kim hating me for all eternity! Even if she wasn't fond of me now- and I didn't know, maybe she liked me after all! – She had no reason to hate me! And she never would if I was careful around her and never performed that foolish act that I'd just been pigheaded enough to contemplate!
With that, I decided there had to be another way to solve my problems. I let myself into Emily's house. If anyone wasn't too busy to talk to me and help me sort out my problems, it was her. Emily had always been there for the rest of us, especially Sam.
And there was nothing better than Emily's warm, fresh-baked muffins to soothe a troubled mind.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! It was certainly a lot of fun to write! The license plate thing was loosely based on an even in my own life. Please review if you get the time so I can make my stories better.