Til Death Do Us Part

chapter sixteen ~ i am nothing

*** TRIGGER WARNING ***
———> SUICIDE <———

IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE READING ABOUT SUICIDE, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER!

I'm aware that some readers may not be comfortable reading this chapter and I respect that completely. And so if you do not wish to read it by all means, scroll quickly to the bottom. I'll make a note of how Jay died, and that's all you will need to know. This chapter is Jay's dialogue of his thoughts and feelings before he died, which benefits the story, but is NOT crucial if you don't wish to read it. Some of you may find it upsetting or uncomfortable.

In no way am I promoting or glorifying suicide - I am simply retelling Jayden's experiences as a sufferer of depression.

Love always, and with respect to people who suffer from problems with such traumatic incidents ~ Kels x

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It started, well, probably about ten years ago.

Sounds like a long time, right? For me - no. Not long enough. The memories were as fresh as paper-cuts on your fingertips. Small, insignificant, but slowly adding up until the skin beneath was marred and scarred by these problems.

And now, here, sat on the edge of the cliff face, with my head in my hands, I realised that I wasn't going to come back from this. How could I?

Perhaps I'd gone one paper-cut too far, or maybe I'd become blind to the fact that these weren't insignificant little scratches anymore.

My life had fallen apart around me, tumbled and crashed into the ground like a plane wreckage.

Now I was in the abyss. The rabbit hole. I'd hit a dead-end head on, and I didn't know what to do with myself and that was when the first set of self-destructive thoughts came.

Not to worry - I didn't even get close to doing anything stupid for almost a month after the first emotional meltdown/crisis/self-evaluation. Whatever my therapist would've called it.
But this would be the last one. This was the month later.
I had no words for the way I felt.

Slowly moving away from the edge, from the place that I could fall down to an instant, dark and dusty death, I stood and headed back for the main road.

No, that wouldn't be the way I went out.

Climbing into my car, I drove back from the woodland area over onto the high street, and barely noticed as street lights and people flashed by the car even in the dark city. It was midnight, according to my car clock. But that thing had always been an hour behind.

I couldn't be bothered to change it. Just like I hadn't been bothered to change myself before it was too late.
Instead, I found myself driving into yet another  thick patch of woodland area, right up until I could hear music, bright lights flashing over the dark trees, cascading the shadows in warm, fluorescent colours.

Lilac Hideout.
The notorious party hut, property of Charlotte Manson's father, who long forgot about this place. He probably thought it had collapsed or something.

But it certainly hadn't.
The place was jam-packed with teenagers, sweat practically clinging to the walls, the windows foggy, and alcohol scattered along the surrounding grass area.

I parked up on the small patch of grass - not many people were parked here. Who came to a party in a car?
Me. I did.

So I went inside, ignored the girls I knew, girls I'd slept with, and girls I had yet to sleep with, and headed straight for the keg for a drink.