GUARANTEE

It was a pretty crisp day in Indiana, the one where the clouds somehow decide to bless us with sunlight. The demure rays of light made a kind of  spotlight for the cheerfully dancing dust notes in my room. The curtains, much like me, were drawn shut. But anyhow, this little ray managed to sneak in. This situation pretty much was directly resonant with my life. I was a big, dark, cold room where there wasn't much reason or need of sunlight. Why, which I doubt, you may ask? You see, the reason I was a stark cold dessert was because I had nothing. I wasn't depressed. I wasn't happy. I was nothing. I was rock bottom. There wasn't anything to react to or be mad for. 

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'HENRY! GET DOWN RIGHT NOW!' the mother screamed, hoping that her son who had earphones all the time in his ears would come listen. 'HENRYYYYYYYY! CAN'T YOU LISTEN?' her shrill voice pierced through the doors. A second later, disinterested footsteps could be heard walking down.
'I was bathing' Henry exclaims. 
'Oh, let's go.' the mother smiled. This was progress. At least he'd started bathing and putting on a little deodorant.
'My psychiatrist is sooo clingy, she thinks we're some sort of a movie thing, always using extra emotional stuff to make me speak.' he sighed. Dr. Roth was the one who first announced Henry was depressed. He wasn't. He knew. He was just crazy confused out of his mind. It was as if his mind  was a country facing a national crisis. A civil war inside itself. He'd write but he wont show anything to anyone. Henry was a 28 year old. The reason of his pain? He'd done a heart wrong. Not his heart. Someone else's. And before he realized, it was late. She'd gone. Maybe to start a new life. Maybe to end the new one too. Just like she'd done her human life. And in his pretty little heart, Henry knew. HE was the reason she  took herself out of the rotation. His lack of empathy was the reason this girl who couldn't go through a day without making someone laugh left all of them to do nothing but stand still as the waves crashed over them again and again. This girl was his sister. Her last words? 'I couldn't stand the pain. It was too much for one person. Guess this was the only way to divide it. I FINALLY KNOW MATH!'. This is what was written inside the note under the bed.

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"It's as if you want someone to save you but the second your savior arrives, you don't let him enter you, heal you because you feel you're being too needy. You're too egoistic to admit it to yourself. And slowly your soul starts committing suicide. Only difference, it's actually a murder being done by you. Denial is a knife you slowly stab yourself with, hoping it'd take your attention away from real pain.''
                                                                                                                        - H.C

Henry Cooper. (an excerpt from his book 'My regretful hell')

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It was 3:05 pm. I was sick of myself. I was going crazy. All I wanted was to escape myself. The 10 sleeping pills I'd gulped down had kicked in. Everything was planned. I would die exactly at 3:10 pm. My last post on Facebook would go up 30 seconds after. The exact second my heartbeat would stop.

My letter to the Stranger would reach him 2 days later at 6:17 pm. The first time I'd seen him. He loved me. He doesn't now. I majorly fucked up the time he did love me, because it was too unreal that a prince like him would approach a peasant like me. I hid my real self and became this girl who would say everything hoping that this next sentence would lead to her fairy tale. I hid myself. And when he didn't like me for someone I wasn't, he didn't want to know me for who I was. So that bummed me pretty hard. 'Cause then, he was the only person that mattered a bit in my life after my family had disowned me for being assaulted upon by a man who had left me to die after doing his business. 

It's been 2 years from that, and I'd hidden my identity pretty good after shifting from Brazil to Indiana. The only person who held onto me was my brother but he left me too after knowing about the Stranger. 'HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU GET INVOLVED WITH A MAN AFTER SO MUCH?! DO YOU NOT HAVE ANY SELF-RESPECT?' He screamed. Back then he was just a man at the first month of his job. It's been two months since he last said that and a week since I stopped trying to contact him again for no reply. Now it's just dessert.
Cold bottomless abyss.
so well, there's that. My sad, absolutely un-glorious story of suicide. :)
I write my last sentence to my brother on a small note. And then it starts. Shallowness in my breath, slowly increasing. My brain starts to feel like it's being filled with water. Its bizarre but good. So this was how it was like to die of a drug overdose. My chest starts paining. I clutch it with my hand. I think I drop the note and try grabbing it back but the effort's in vain. I writhe just a little bit and then it's black. And I see my life flowing in front of my eyes as it reaches it's end to the beats of The Beatles playing in my earphones. 
                                                                                          - Henrietta Cooper.