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Pen Your Pride

Don't let me go

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"You can't." He whispered. I held his hand, but I felt like I wasn't with him. I felt like I was already gone.

"I have to."

"I won't let you."

"But you'll be too late to stop me."

"No-"

"I've made my decision already."

"Please, just listen."

"No. It's too late."

"Your life is good."

"Unlikely."

He faced me. "Your life is a life everyone wants. You are somebody everyone wants to be."

"Exactly."

"Why is that bad?"

"It's too complicated."

"I won't be able to help you if you don't tell me."

"Good. Then I won't."

"Julie....just listen to me. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do."

"I'll find you help."

"No. Don't. I don't need your help or anyone else's. I've got it under control."

"By ending your life?"

When he said it like that, I froze. Was I really going to end myself? To let myself go to a better place?

"I....I have to."

"Please, don't. I'll do anything for you not to."

"You've done enough." I say and slide off of the bench, away from him. He almost stopped me, almost. But he failed.

I walked along the sand, holding the small seashell that dangled from my neck. The wind blew my hair around and the sun kissed my bare skin. I let go of my necklace and felt the knife in my pocket, thinking. Should I really do this? Yes. I had to.

"Julie!" He shouted. I turned and saw him coming towards me. The wind blew harder as I ran for the deep, thick forest. He wouldn't find me there. But I didn't want to leave him.

"Julie, wait!" He yelled. I kept running, though. The knife dug into my skin as I pumped my legs and sprinted for the canopy of trees. I hid behind a giant tree and held my head in my hands. Tears streamed down my face and onto my t-shirt, looking like pink spots of blood.

"Julie? Julie!" He screamed for me. I watched his back as he searched behind trees and in bushes. "Julie, I can help you. Please don't do it!"

I didn't want to do it in front of him, so I kept quiet. Finally, he turned behind a boulder, so I took the knife out of my pocket and held it in my hands. Sun danced off of the metal blade. I ran my finger along the sharp blade, watching as it lightly punctured the skin, sending a small trickle of blood down my finger. I took a deep breath. Birds chirped and sang. I spotted a tiny blue bird hopping onto a branch. The wind rustled the branches and leaves, making a wonderful sound. I kept my eyes open for him. He was no where to be seen. I took the knife besides me and held it tight. My hands shook and my blood rushed through my body. My heart raced faster than a humming bird's wings and more tears came to my eyes. Raising the knife high in the air, I took one last breath. One big, soothing breath.

"Julie!"

I let the knife go, plunging it into my skin. I fell backwards, gulping for air but getting none. My chest grew wet and sticky with blood and my stomach was burning. I couldn't move my body. The world stayed so calm, so peaceful. And yet, my whole body went into shock.

"Julie?" He whispered, beside me now.

"Don't...l-let me....go..." I spit out.

Suddenly the world turned black, blocking him out of my sight, and sending me into an explosion of colors.

*************************************************************************************************************

Julie commited suicide. There, I said it.

She's recovering. She didn't die. The doctor said she didn't stick the knife far enough in for herself to die. That was reassuring.

Why did she do it, though? Her life was perfect. She has so many friends, good grades, a scholarship to Harvard. Her family paid so much attention to her. So many people loved her. She was a great artist. She was captain of the swim team, and track team.

Right before Julie almost died, she told me to not let her go. So I didn't. I had always listened to Julie. Julie was usually right. But she wasn't right for this. And when I told her to listen to me, she didn't. Julie Parks is not always right. Julie Parks doesn't know what's best for her. Julie Parks can't see what's right in front of her. And yet, I love Julie Parks. I love how her golden hair sparkles in the sun. I love how she always wears her small seashell necklace I made for her for her seventeenth birthday. I love how she smiles at nearly everything. I love how Julie Parks looks at the world differently than other people. I love how she kisses. I love how she takes her time. I love Julie Parks.

But I'm the reason Julie Parks commited suicide. There, I said it.

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