Chasing Suicide (BXB)

Chapter One♥

[A/N: This story has been fully edited. If you find any mistakes feel free to let me know so I can fix them! Thanks for reading!] P.s -  re-editing a few small things, spelling mistakes, plot mistakes, adding a lil more dialogue, etc.

"Jude! I guess it's your turn this time. Nobody wants this case." My head flung up.

"What?!" I announced in shock. "Finally!" I jumped out of my desk and stood in front of my boss. I had been waiting for a chance to actually do what I got hired for but I had been more like a temp to these people lately, since I got hired actually.

"Who is it?" I quickly took a look at the files that he handed me and read the name on the front. "Aster... Aster who? Doesn't he have a last name?" Usually these files contained at least a full name, age, and slightly detailed background check, but this one was lacking a lot of information. I glanced up, and noticed about twenty coworkers staring at me from behind their gray desks.

I could hear them whisper, "He got Aster?", "Poor guy",
"I know and for his first job too!",
"That's gonna be a tough one, I was wondering who would end up getting that case",
"He'll be 18 soon anyways so at least he only has to deal with him for a short time",
"Yeah I highly doubt Aster would want to stay with the program then."

What? Did they think I couldn't hear them? More so than I would like to admit I heard my coworkers talking negatively about actual people and each time it shocked me.

I personally got this job so that I could help people with their problems, because I cared and genuinely wanted to guide people in the right direction.

I work at a specialized part-charity clinic that runs a program for people with depression and other serious mental illness' who don't have the money or have no one else who will reach out and help. Sometimes we help through therapy, physical therapy, or one-on-one constant care for the more serious cases. Teens, kids, adults, people of all ages. But it's so disrespectful that half of the people here don't even take it seriously. I mean, these are lives we're in charge of! They could at least try to care and think before they speak!

I tried to ignore the rude comments and Mr. Wilson, the director and also my boss, looked down at me. "Listen son, I know you're new to this whole routine, heck, you're only 20. But don't let their comments get you down or scare you okay? I've met Aster and... "

He scratched his head, as if contemplating what to say next. "Well, the kid just... He has some problems."

As he smiled, his forehead wrinkled up a bit. "You'll do fine. All you need to know is in that file." His old nimble hand reached down, and he tapped the yellow manila folder that I held open. "You'll meet him tomorrow when he gets out of the hospital."

"Hospital?" I questioned, also wondering in my head how the information in this folder would help when there wasn't much in it to start with.

"Yeah, you'll see. You should go get some rest, you'll need it." He gently patted my shoulder, then walked away, leaving me alone to my very confused but anticipating thoughts. Well, me and all the middle-aged gossipy workers around me.

I quickly took his advice and headed home before he could change his mind. I had been working overtime anyways. I bet one nap couldn't hurt... Or two... or five. As excited as I was to work I was never one to turn down a good nap.

~~~

After a short drive I arrived at my apartment complex and walked up the lengthy tacky steel stairs that I had come to hate throughout my life. By the time I got to the top, my legs were aching and I was breathing heavily.

"I'm so out of shape." I said to no one as I took one last deep breath, and opened the door revealing my two bedroom, one bathroom apartment. Sometimes I thought it might be too small, especially since the second room was more of a walk in closet size, lacking an actual closet; at times like this though it was cozy and inviting. I stepped in from the frosty outside air and slid off my shoes.

"Home sweet home." I smiled to myself, and walked to the little fire place that was stationed next to the television, to light it up. Sadly, I wasn't gifted with enough wilderness skills to make an actual fire, so I just stuck with the gas powered ones. Just light a match, throw it in, and you're done! Voilà.

Once the fire was growing and crackling, I slumped into the black leather love seat right next to it and pulled out the file that had Aster's information on it. I opened it and started reading.

Aster, no last name. Orphan, 17.

Okay well, not a totally bad start. I had studied cases on people growing up without parents, along with the psychological aspects of how they presented themselves and acted.

I read on,

Never adopted, multiple foster homes.

Completed high school education early.

Refused to take pills for stress, anxiety and/or depression.

Attempted suicide 3 times so far.

My heart dropped at the last one.

3 times? and how could they put 'so far' after? Who wrote this shit? Was it that likely to happen again? This wasn't a job for pessimists! I felt a burden of sadness for the kid, and I hadn't even met him yet. No wonder he wasn't getting any better, especially if people kept treating him like a lost case. I sighed, and continued on reading.

Assisting Hours: Critical 24/7

Well, there goes my me-time. Not that I even had any, cause I didn't. Work was my life at the moment, and before that it was schooling. I read the rest and it was basically just small facts on his life... Which wasn't much. A few details on his suicide attempts, things he hated and liked, which again was only like 2 or 3 things. Not much. From what it looked like, it seemed that nobody had a clear description on his personality.

I noticed a little picture sticking out of the papers and picked it up. Holding the paper between my index finger and my thumb, I examined it closely. It kind of had the feel of a mug shot. The guy in the picture had chin length messy black hair. Oh wait... was it black? I read the description again.

Hair Color: Brown.

Eh... It didn't. even look brown. Odd. Probably the faded color of the picture.

One thing I noticed instantly about the picture, was that he wasn't smiling, which I had seen many people smile to try and complain later on how that meant they were happy. Underage kids mostly, because they didn't have a choice if they wanted to stay in the clinic or not, if their parents made them.

But he wasn't frowning either, his face had more of a blank expression on it. As if he was staring into nothingness.

Once again, I felt that burden weighing down on me. And through all this he hadn't had friends or family, not even a steady foster home. No wonder he was so depressed.

Feeling a slight sense of depression myself from reading all this, I put the folder away and decide to get ready for bed. I got up, stretched out my arms lazily, then walked to the bathroom.

I glanced at the mirror and noticed that my brown shaggy hair was starting to fall into my dark brown eyes.

I was gonna need a haircut soon, whenever it started getting long Wilson usually made some negative comment about keeping appearances nice and neat, which in case just made me get it cut again.

I pushed it up and stuck in a bobby pin so that it would be out of my face. And yes, I own bobby pins, they aren't only for girls.

I quickly brushed my teeth and splashed water over my face.

Ahh refreshing. I smiled brightly at my reflection, examining my white teeth. I walked out of my bathroom proudly. I remember when I was a kid I rarely brushed my teeth. Now I did at least 3 times a day, and they were always pearly white. You could say I was some what of a personal hygiene freak. Not to the point of insanity but enough to worry someone if I told them about it.

I pulled off my shirt and pants, jumped into my queen size bed, and tried my best to fall asleep.

X

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A/N:

thanks for reading<3