6Practically sprinting toward her 'spot', she realized how close to tears she actually was.
'I just can't. It's too much. I hate this. I can't control what I say anymore. I can't control my self.'
She reached her 'spot' and sat on the ground, wrapping her arms around her legs, and put her head down, letting the tears run down her face. A position she has become so use to in these past few weeks.
'She's leaving me. She already left. She's gone. I'll never see her again. And him. He's gone too. They left me, abandoned me when I needed them both. I told then my deepest secrets. They left me'.
She remembered that day. They day she pulled her two best friends aside. She sat up half the night debating whether to tell them everything. Her secrets. Her habits. The things no one knew. She thought they would accept her for who/what she was. She knew she was stupid for doing so, but she wasn't the only one in the world who did it. She thought they would help her through it, support her. But instead, they looked at her funny, looked at each other and at the exact same time, turned and walked away. And that was the last time she spoke to them. That was two weeks ago.
She hasn't talked to anyone, not even her family, in nearly a week and a half. She hasn't eaten in 4 days, afraid of what would happen if she did. She came to her spot everyday to think. Her face was blank and expression-less. She knew she looked terrible, but she didn't care. She lost what she needed most, her friends, her guardian angels, and her reason for living. She lost it all.
'Oh god, I was so stupid. Why did I tell them? I knew I should have kept it to myself. I knew this would happen. I lost everything I needed. Everything I wanted. Everything that makes the world go round.'
She looked up and wiped the tears away. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the pocket knife her brother had given her. She pulled up her old black, ratty sweat shirt. Near her elbow, on the inside, maybe an inch and a half away from the joint, she slowly dragged the knife across her arm. Three times she did this, 2 for her best friends and one for herself, each on deeper than the one before. Then she replaced the knife where she found it; her back pocket and pulled down her sleeve. She was crying again. She just couldn't do it anymore.
She heard the door across the street close and for a brief second she wondered if someone saw her, but that wasn't possible, she was well hidden behind the trees. Suddenly she heard a voice and couldn't quite place it. She looked up, after wiping her tear stained face, into the eyes of her crush.
"What are you doing here?" he questioned, concerned. I guess he saw the look of confusion on my face because he said "I saw you run over here and I wasn't sure if you were ok. So are you? Ok, I mean."
She nodded then shook her head. "I'm not ok." Shocked by the sound of her own voice, she paused. Then started again, "I'm scared and I'd prefer to be alone" she paused again. "Please?"
He nodded, and then said "You know that you can always talk to me, you can come over whenever."
I nodded in thanks. "I hope that you're ok, please be ok" he said before he kissed be briefly and walked back to his house.
'Wow' was the only thing that went through her head. She knew she would never be ok. She knew it was over. She knew she should end it. She got up and walked towards the bridge
She was on the edge. She looked up toward the sky and prayed.
'God, please don't let me come up breathing'. Then she jumped.