Serena sat at the end of her bed, a small canister of pills in her hand and tears streaming down her face. She was just fifteen, but with the stress of school and bullies- it just all became too much. They never stopped harassing her. Not even when she was curled in a ball, broken and battered.
The words bounced around in her mind as she sat now, "Bitch. Whore. Retard." Around and around. And they never stopped, getting louder and louder in her head until she couldn't formulate a clear thought. Until she was almost positive that they were in the room with her, chanting, laughing, mocking.
Her left hand tightened on the pills and she twisted open the top. The note was already written, a short, 'I'm sorry but it had to end this way. I couldn't do it anymore, I'm not strong enough.' There was nobody in the house, and there wouldn't be for a few hours. Her parents were out, her siblings at a camp. Nobody would find her until it was too late. Until she was gone.
Before she could think it through anymore, she put the canister to her lips, tossing back the pills and swallowing. She gulped down some water as one stuck, then sat, crying, waiting for it all to be over. As the world blackened around her, she was almost certain that she heard a yell. But it was too late. The darkness surrounded her, embraced her.
Made her forget the pain...
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Three days later, Serena's body was laid out in a casket, her eyes closed, a single white rose on her chest. She looked peaceful, happy. As if she was only sleeping.
Her best friend, Sophia, sat in the front pew with Serena's family, red-eyed and sobbing, broken hearted at her closest friend's death. The church filled up quickly, Serena's classmates, teachers-- even her tormentors were there, looking guilty and upset.
Minutes seemed like hours as the priest brought the attention once again to the lone girl. Tears were shed, many of them from people that had never said more than one word to the victim.
Then, it was time for the speeches. Serena's mother could barely speak, and her father could only choke out a few words on how much he missed his baby girl, and how angry he was that such a thing had happened. Her two brothers talked about when they were younger, and the things that they had gotten up to.
They almost didn't let Sophia up, almost positive that she would break down in sobs in front of the audience, but the girl was intent on letting people hear her words.
"Serena was my best friend. She didn't deserve this. Nobody, deserves this. And now she's gone. Just like that. Because a group of people were such cowards, that they took their anger out on one of the nicest people I have ever met. I don't understand it. Why would you be so intent on making somebodies life such a living hell? So much that they would do something like this, that they would ruin, not just her, but her family's life. Because I hope you know that these people, their scars will never heal. My scars will never heal. And Serena's sure as hell won't. She killed herself. And I watched it. I watched it, and I couldn't stop it. I didn't know how. And I will never forgive myself for knowing that I could have saved her life, only if I had gotten to her sooner, only if I hadn't panicked when I saw her sprawled out on her bed, the canister of pills strewn across her chest.
"I really hope you're happy. And just because you're here today, that doesn't mean anything. Because you could have stopped us all from being here, by having said nice things, not cruel. By having joked, not harmed. By asking her if she was okay, not asking if she'd had enough.
"Today we are here to celebrate Serena's life. But how can we, when we know that she didn't. That she hated her life enough to kill herself? That we know that it could have been stopped.
"Everybody here should just stop and reflect on this. Once you commit, there is no going back. The people that knew you are left with scars that can never be healed. Memories that can never be erased.
"I want you all to leave here and buy a notebook. And every time you feel like the world is bearing too heavily down on you, that you feel as if the odds are completely against you, that there is no light at the end of the tunnel, write it down. You may not be good with words, but it doesn't matter. Write down exactly how you feel, and what's happening that makes you so depressed and unhappy. And then, in the future when you start to contemplate suicide again, read back over the notebook. Remember what it felt like to feel so unhappy that you were ready to take your own life, then remember that you did it. You beat it once, you can beat it again.
"I realise that I may have taken up a lot of your time, and I do apologise. Thank you for listening. And, Serena? If you're listening, don't forget to wait for me. I love you, and I miss you so much. I'm so sorry that I couldn't have been there when you needed me the most."
Sophia stepped away from the podium, closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly made her way back to her seat. The whole church was silent, then, almost like thunder building up, a clap began. First only one or two clapping, then five, ten, fifty, until the whole church was clapping for the words spoken.
Sophia didn't even blink, just continued to sit, thinking about her best friend, wondering what would have happened had she actually saved her.
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I know. It lacks a lot of emotion. But I did try, even if something like this has never happened to me personally. And please, if you have suicidal thoughts, just PM me. I may not be the best with advice, but I will listen. I will try. And keeping a notebook does help, trust me.
