Two Broken Souls

chapter twenty-four

Paige closed her calculus textbook sighing. "We should drop out of school." She rested her head upon her closed fist.

Reaching in from her backpack, she pulled out her strawberry scented vape, which she bought from a freshman because she would rather 'rat out a freshman over a senior,' if she were ever to get caught with it while at school.

"We're in the home stretch." I sarcastically replied, not looking up from my history assignment that I was working on.

It's too late to drop out. We're seniors and only have six weeks of school left. You can only joke about dropping out up until junior year.

A stack of newspapers from The Thunderbolt were placed neatly on the table we're currently occupying in the library. I picked one up and the headline read: "New Basketball Courts In The Gym."

I shook my head before pushing the newspaper aside. Can't The Thunderbolt ever write anything interesting? Or useful? I'd even settle for a funny short story comic.

Besides the students who work on The Thunderbolt and a handful of teachers no one actually reads it anyway. I always thought that they should just release an online version that's emailed out to the students and save some trees.

"Look at that, we have new basketball courts in the gym," I said for no particular reason.

Paige picked up her phone and groaned. "We should get going or we're going to be late."

We had an all school assembly for suicide prevention, that was happening instead seventh period. In the past, seniors who didn't have class after fifth period didn't have to go, but this year it was mandatory for every student.

Paige sat with her on again boyfriend Connor so the two could make out. I was fine to sit by myself if that meant I didn't have to sit next to two people making out.

Sutton was the guest speaker along with Jane, a woman she works with. She brought in a couple of cops from the local police department to talk to us about safety as if suicide will attack us on the street in the middle of the night.

The first half of the assembly is pretty boring. Sutton went over the rate of suicide in teenagers and the warning signs. That's when I looked over and saw Harry looking over at me. The second half of the assembly is a short film that the school wanted to show about a teenager who is suffering from undiagnosed depression and the signs to look out for.

Principal Alders told us that the context is graphic and if any student needs to step out, they are allowed too. As the movie starts up, I was expecting it to be the usual one that's shown every year. The one that talks about the warning signs in a suicidal teenager.

As the movie starts, I can feel the tears coming. I don't know why I am crying at an acted out suicide attempt. When I can't take any more of the film, I abruptly stand up and walk out. I pass by a teacher who doesn't say anything to me as I walk out.

Outside the auditorium, I threw up in one of the trash cans. I sit down on the floor and cry even harder. "Please stop." I whisper under my breath. I'm afraid someone is going to come out and see me.

I sat on the floor and leaned against the wall when Harry walked out. "Thought I'd find you out here."

"I couldn't even get through five minutes of that."

"What went through your mind when you were thinking about it?"

"About?" I let the word linger for a moment.

"Killing yourself." He filled in. "What was going through your mind?"

I know he wants answers about why his father killed himself, but I am never going to be able to answer them. He has to ask his mother even if she doesn't want to talk about it, Harry still has a right to know what happened.

I stare at my hands. "It felt like the right thing to do because it seemed like there was no other choice.

I thought if I could be out at midnight and stand on a ledge without my mother or friends asking where I was, would it really be so bad if I had jumped?

No one would know till the next day. No one would care enough to come look for me. Would anyone even miss me? The world would continue on so does it really matter if some teenage girl killed herself? There will always be another teenager to take my place.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea. You just always seemed so happy and put together."

I look at him. "But none of that matters. Why I was standing on that ledge, all I could think about was dying. And how ready I was. How screwed up is that?" I ask him.

I wipe away the rest of my tears. Harry and I sat in silence while I quietly sobbed. Neither of us have said anything in a while.

"How long did the baseball player spend in the library?" Harry asked.

"What?" It takes me a minute to register what he said. "I don't know."

"Five minutes. He was a shortstop."

I crack a small smile that turned into a fit of laughter. "That's a terrible joke." I continue to laugh and Harry joins me before were told by a teacher to go back in and wait for the assembly to finish.

When the bell rings, I hang back a little as the rest of my classmates scramble out of the auditorium. I'm not in any rush to go anywhere just yet.

Before, I'm left here all alone, I gather my things. "Mia?" Sutton calls after me. "Do you have a moment to talk?" I nod and stay put in my seat as she comes and sits next to me. "I saw you run out and I just want to make sure you're okay." She placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm okay." I assure her.

"Do you have another therapy appointment?"

This is the exact reason why I chose to see a therapist miles away from school. I don't need people asking me about it all the time. Especially Harry's mother.

"Yes, I do."

She smiled. "That's great."

I waited for her to say something else, but when she seemed like she was finished, I spoke up.

"This might not be my place to say," Sutton had a crease in her forehead. "but Harry has a lot of questions about his fathers death. I think you should talk to him about that."

"Oh," Sutton pulled her hand back and looked down. "I put him in therapy after it happened, but I didn't realize he was still struggling." Sutton confessed and I realized she might of thought she was being a terrible mother.

"I think it would be better if he talked to you instead of a stranger." I offered.

"Thank you telling me, Mia."