Ecstasy- Rapper imagines

Little Things- xxxtentacion

(Rest in peace to the only man who ever made me feel like it was okay not to be okay. I love you Jah🤍 and I'll never forget how much you loved us)

I sit in the fucking stall for the 100th time this year. Fuck, I've been in this stall more than I've been in class. This shit has become a regular for me. Tears roll down my face and I just let them. If I wipe them off more are gonna fall. I don't wanna be here. Here as in my mental state. I can't breathe. I can't be free. I'm lost. I'm gone.

I finally get up, and wipe my eyes. I go to the sink and grab a paper towel, wetting it and wiping my eyes. They're red. It's okay, people will just think I'm high.

I walk out, pulling my hood over my head. I keep my head down and walk to class. I knock on the door and the teacher opens it. She looks me in the eyes. And walks out the class, leaving a crack in the door. She lifts my face.

"Are you okay," she asks. I mentally laugh. No. That's a dumbass question. I simply nod my head and walk in class. She follows behind me and walks back to the board.

I take my seat next to Jahseh, who has his hood on and his headphones in. He doesn't glance up. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't do anything. I pull out my AirPods and connect them, blasting Lund. Tears fall down my face, and I wipe them away.

I'll never be happy. Every time I get a chance to smile, every time I have a reason to breath, shit fucks up. I finally found peace. Now my sister's dead. Now my grandfather's in the hospital. Now my mom's disappointed. Now my best friend hates me. Now my brother's serving 6 years.

God, if you don't like me just say that.

I feel a hand land on mine under the desk. I look up to see jahseh looking dead at me. He grabs my hand and pulls me up and out of class.

"Where do you think you're-" the door slams.

"Come here," he says, opening his arms. I hug him, and that's when it hits me.

Things ain't never getting better, is it?

"I gotchu," he whispers in my ear. I grip on tighter to his hoodie. He squeezes me. "You ain't gotta tell me nothing, cuz we don't really talk. But if you need to let it out, who better to tell?"

I look him in his eyes. They're as dull as mine. They're darker. Painful. They're more broken than mine. They're more lost than mine. He's gone too.

"I feel like I'm drowning," I say. "And everybody tells me to breathe."

"But that's the very thing that's gonna kill you," he finishes. "I know how you feel."

"Does it get better?"

"Nah, you just become numb."

"How does that feel?"

"Like you're stuck. You can't cry cuz you ran out of tears. You can't love because your heart hasn't been repaired. You can't be happy because you feel nothing. You're just numb."

"What happened to you," I ask, keeping the eye contact. He sits on the floor. I follow and he wraps his arm around my shoulder.

"Life." I nod my head, not wanting to remind him of what he was going through.

"Drown the drowning out," he says and I look at him confused. He chuckles. "That sounds stupid. But what I mean is stay positive. I know that's hard as a bitch, but you have to focus on the positives."

"Like what?"

"The fact that you're still alive. The fact that you can breathe, physically. The fact that your heart can beat even though it's broken. That you found someone just as broken as you," he explains. We make eye contact again, and smiles.

"How can you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Smile. How can you smile when shit just falls apart?"

"Because even though I'm depressed, there's little things that happen. And you have to cherish them."

"So why are you smiling now?"

"Honestly," he smiles again. "I've been wanting to speak to you. I saw how broken you've become in the past month but i didn't want to make it worse. You're so beautiful, and you deserve the world. And I just didn't know if you'd let me give it to you."

"I do." I cover my mouth with my hand. What if I can't handle this? What if he can't handle me? What if this breaks us more? What if nothing but pain and death comes at the end of it?

"We'll see what happens," he says as if he read my thoughts. "Maybe love is the cure to depression."

"Maybe." I smile at him, and lean my head on his shoulder. He leans his head on mine. He's right. It's the little things.

"Go to class!"