The morning light crept hesitantly into Lana's room, a stark contrast to the darkness that had unfolded on the bridge. It was a new day, but the sun's warmth did nothing to lift the chill that had settled deep in her bones.
Lana’s phone rang, an invasive sound that she almost didn’t want to answer, her gut telling her it bore bad news. On the other end, Detective Harris's voice was gentle but grave.
"I'm sorry to call you like this, Lana. It’s about Sam..."
The floor seemed to sway beneath her, the words not fully registering.
“What about Sam?” Her own voice sounded distant, as if it belonged to someone else.
“sam attempted suicide yesterday. I’m afraid Sam...” There was a pause, a heavy breath taken on the other end. “Sam passed away.”
The world stopped. Lana’s vision tunneled as she grasped the counter to steady herself.
"No, that can't be," she whispered, a futile denial. Tears, unbidden and relentless, surged forth. The phone slipped from her hand, clattering against the hardwood floor, but she barely heard it.
Memories of their last conversation, harsh words and colder silences, played on a torturous loop in her mind. Had she known, could she have altered this tragic course? Regret was a relentless companion, whispering guilt-laden scenarios where she could have saved him.
Hours must have passed with Lana lost in a fog of grief, sitting on the kitchen floor amid shards of sunlight that spilled uncaringly through the windows. It was a cruel sort of irony, the beauty of the day, against the storm that raged within her.
Eventually, she found herself standing at the bridge where Sam's tormented soul had found its last respite. Police tapes fluttered in the breeze, a haunting reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded in the quiet of night.
No one else was there, just Lana and the echoes of a life that had intersected with hers, leaving an indelible mark. She remembered Sam's smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. Those were the memories to hold close, the memories that defied the bleak finale.
She laid a single white rose against the cold railing, the bloom stark against the metal. The gesture felt hollow, yet necessary—an acknowledgment of what had been lost, a whisper of apology to a soul who could no longer hear her.
The water below moved relentlessly forward, uncaring of human sorrow. And yet, as Lana watched it flow, she understood that life, too, would move on, that the living must find a way to heal.
A resolve formed quietly within her, a vow to honor Sam's memory not with endless mourning but with action. She would advocate for mental health awareness, for open conversations to save others from silent battles. It would be her way to make sense of the senseless, to pull hope from despair.
For now, though, she allowed herself to grieve, to feel the full weight of her loss. The bridge bore silent witness to her pain.
The chapter of Sam’s life had closed, but Lana’s continued, laden with lessons of love, loss, and the formidable resilience of the human spirit. She would carry Sam's memory forward, a beacon in her journey to help others find the light amidst their darkest moments.
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Thankyou for reading 💕
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through her eyes
Teen Fiction"Through Her Eyes" is a captivating novel that follows Lana, a sixteen year old teen battling anorexia nervosa. When she falls in love with her friend Sam, who is battling his own struggles against depression , they find comfort in each other's pres...
