Seeing her name on my caller I.D. put me in the realization she is still not going to leave me alone. Or maybe I was wrong, maybe she's calling to say she'll leave me alone. After all she is the only one I can possibly be worried about. Sophie. "Hello?" I said cautiously. "I'm going to...kill myself." "What!? Why!?" "I've lost the thing I wanted, and now I'm going to end the pain." "Sophie, this is the most idiotic thing I've ever heard! You're not going to kill yourself!" I heard her moan in pain and then the line went dead. The first thing I did was call an ambulance to her address. Then I ran to my car, and exceeding the speed limit by 20 miles per hour, I arrived at her house. The door was locked, so I kicked it in when she wouldn't answer. I ran to the bathroom because that's the first place everyone goes to slit their wrists or something crazy like that. Lying on the bathroom floor, blood on her wrists, the red fluid drifting across the floor as if it was a natural river. In one part of me I still thought "She deserved it." But, in the other part of me, I knew I had to do something. So, I took some of the towels in the cabinet and went over and applied them around her wrists. I'm still waiting for the ambulance, I say "You're going to be ok!" Even though I don't even know if she's still alive. I checked her pulse, faint, but she is alive. Her eyes open slightly, and with the last words she can muster, she says "No, I'm not. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done this. I should have listened to you." Then I knew at that moment, when she closed her eyes, her world was engulfed in black. No more pain, no more sorrow. She was gone, and I couldn't help but drop a tear. I knew what I thought earlier, I now regret even thinking the thought. I hear the ambulance sirens becoming finally audible, as my once friend's last breath of life came out and made me think of the great times we used to have. Playing out in the park, young, free. Now, she is free, but only in a different way. That's when the medics came in and pryed me away from her now lifeless body, and took her away in their seemingly white hearse. Now, I cry, and remember what I could've done different to save her life. Or maybe it was inevitable, but I couldn't help but think I could have avoided it. Walking out of the house, with blood on my shirt, I realized that I was holding her in my arms the whole time. Not letting her go, until death came upon her and forced us away. It felt as if it was in slow-motion, because the moment would not fade away. More to come! Bump! Tell me if you like it! I tried to be more deeply emotional with how I worded it. Please give me feedback! Love you all!
Bump! I had to read it all before I stoped! Adam u are an amazing writer and I hope to get to talk to u alot it was really good and I can't wait for more...
The funeral is on Saturday. The melancholy feeling over everyone is colossal. Nobody is not sad she died. I am still lying in my bed, I haven't got up in hours. This is my fault in a way. I can't fight it, I felt a guilt. It was a dark cloud, only surrounding me. Like I have a blurred perception of reality. Idealistically, I can say she did out of stupidity, but realistically, it is partly my fault. But, how could I know she liked me in that way? I couldn't. I can still remember the blood, the sorrow in her eyes when they opened for that last time. I can still remember the last breath she took, the grace of it passing from her lips. I don't what is worse, the fact that she died, or the fact I couldn't stop it. They are both horrible. I can't stop thinking of it. It's a feeling that you can never get away from, but hides itself, and then comes back again and again.