Written words

Last Kiss

The voices are screaming at my me now. Begging me to end it all, to let go and this time there is no one here to pull me out of the water. I'm drowning and nothing can save me. No one stands at the side with a life saver. No one is anywhere near me. I am drowning alone.

I run to Jackson's house and pound on the door. I get no response. I hit it with both my fists as I scream and cry. I kick it hard and still I get no response.

"Let me in! You have to let me in! This isn't funny! Please! Just... Let me in!" I scream. I spin around and face the street. No one is here. I scream again and stumble around back.

As always the door is unlocked. I shove it open and run through the house. I go to his room hoping that he will be there laughing at me, waiting for me to come and hit him. But he isn't. No one is here. I walk into his room and stumble to his bed. On his nightstand sits a picture of us. The selfie we took while getting ice cream, the one where he decided to kiss my cheek randomly. The one where he made my eyes bug out and drop my ice cream.

I grab the picture. And look up at the ceiling.

"Take me back! Take me back here! Where is the freaking rewind button, huh? Why are you doing this to me! Are you trying to kill me! Is that part of your wicked plan? Do you want me dead! You know all you had to do was not bring Jackson in and your wish would've been granted a long time ago!" I scream.

I sink to my knees and cry. Not the silent tears that make someone look almost beautiful, nope this is the full on ugly sobbing. Complete with weird sounds coming from me and my face contorting in the ugliest way imaginable. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes trying to stop the flow of tears, but the floodgates have opened and their is no way they will be closed.

Through the tears I manage to form an idea. An idea that will save me. An idea that is my only chance. I stand up, trying to see through the tears that continue to fall. I stumble forward and grab the picture I dropped. Then I go to his closet and grab various items of his clothing. I take his football and band t-shirts, his letterman jacket, two of his sweatshirts, and a pair of his sweatpants. With all of that in my hands I walk out of his house and down the street.

I walk back to my house and go into my room. I lay everything on my bed and then crawl next to them. Then I cry myself to sleep.

***
I sit on the floor in a corner of my room. The corner I haven't sat in like this since the promise. With shaky hands I grab the book from the bottoms of the shelf and open it. It isn't like a normal book. This book is more like a box since there is no center in it.

I reach in and pull out a small silver blade. A blade that feels foreign in my fingers after months of neglect. I slowly bring the blade to my arm. I take a deep breath and let the cool metal touch my arm.

"You said you wouldn't do that again," says a voice, Jackson. I freeze.

"The deal was broken. You left," I say with ice crystallizing every word that falls out of my mouth.

"But I'm here now," he says. I turn to look behind my shoulder. And sure enough, Jackson is there. I suck in my breath and stare at him.

"Y-you're dead," I whisper. I rub my eyes but he doesn't leave.

"No I'm right here," he says. I stare at him for a moment. Then I launch myself into his arms, the silver blade long forgotten. I cry into his chest.

"Oh my goodness you're alive. Do you have any idea what you did to me? I can't live without you. Dang you! You know that!" I yell as my relief is quickly replaced with anger. No anger doesn't describe what I feel. I feel white, hot fury. I shove him away from me. "Why? Why on earth would you do that?" I scream.