Yours Truly, Ramona

chapter thirty seven | deceit.

*possible trigger warning*

~

I roll the bottle of pills around in my hands and listen as they clatter inside of the orange case. Michael gave me this full bottle earlier today, when I snuck out of the house while Owen was meeting with the funeral home about Mason's burial.

But now, with Owen completely unaware of my plans for tonight and my mind completely made up, I'm ready to put my misery to end.

Owen's out in the living room sorting some laundry. I heard him sniffling earlier and I know he's been secretly crying, but he'll probably never admit that to me. He's been coping with it in his own way, and me in mine. Although my way of coping with this pretty much just consists of slit wrists and suicidal ideation.

I look at the clock on the bedside table and see that school has finally let out for the day. I sit up and place the orange bottle of pills in my backpack and grab my phone from the nightstand.

I want to call Luis one last time. I want to hear his voice and his laugh. I want to say goodbye to the one person who's never left me.

"Hey, my love," Luis answers with a sweet chirp.

I feel my stomach turn to mush at the way he addresses me, and I wish I could reach through the phone and kiss him. I wish I could just feel his lips on mine again. But I have to remind myself of why I'm calling, and that I'll never be able to touch him again. It's over.

"Hey," I respond as I force happiness into my voice. "Whatcha doin'?"

"Walking out to my car."

I hear other voices flooding in from the background, and I'm willing to bet that he's leaving school for the day. He's likely in the crowded parking lot with all of the other students that are leaving for the day.

"So when are you coming back to school?" he asks once he realizes that I've gone quiet.

"Soon."

That's a lie. I won't even be alive tomorrow. I feel my body tense up at the thought of it. At the thought of Luis getting the call that his best friend has killed herself. I know it would hurt him, but he'd get over it eventually. Everyone would.

"Good. I can't wait until you come back. I miss you so much, love."

I should feel guilty about taking my own life, but the longer I talk with Luis, the more I feel at ease. It's almost like I know that he'll be okay. He's got a life that he's living without me, and while he may miss me, he'll be able to move on. It'll be okay, he'll be okay, and I can escape some of the guilt that's threatening to take me over.

"If you were going to kill yourself, how would you do it?"

The question leaves me before I can stop it, and I immediately regret asking. I mean, I'd love to have his opinion on the topic, but I certainly don't want him drawing conclusions or figuring out my plan.

"Woah, Mona, you're not thinking about—"

"No!" I say defensively with a convincing laugh. "I'm just curious to know how you'd do it."

My innocent tone seems to sell it very well, and I can tell he's going to brush it off.

"Well, I'd probably take pills. It seems like the easiest and most painless way to do it, I guess."

"I agree."

"Why the sudden depressing question?"

I shrug, although it takes me a moment to realize he can't see me. I almost want him to hear my cry for help. I want him to know what I'm planning on doing, and I want him to stop me. To tell me he cares. But it's so unrealistic, and so naive.