How To Not Die

jackass

"So, last night, I talked to the officer last night and she told me that if I fill out a few forms, I can legally be your guardian."

I nod my head. I woke up and realized that it was all real. Mom and Frank are really dead. It's all my fault, too. If I had not offed myself, then none of this would have happened. This is all my fault.

There are gross globs of yellow and cardboard-brown squares on the plate in front of me. There is no way in hell I am going to eat anything without it coming back up.

"Nina, I wish you would eat."

I know that she's just trying to help me out, but I know that there is no way that I can keep it down. I continue my staring match with the meal as Aunt Jackie buzzes around the room like a bee.

She's not at all affected by the death's of my mother or my step-father because she was related to my real father. She doesn't even seem to care about Mom. Her sole focus is on me. She seems to idolize me in a way that I cannot put into words.

She has no children of her own, so she seems to have spent a lot of time focusing on me. She has pictures of me hung up all along her walls. I couldn't quite put my finger on what I found unsettling about her, but I was getting weird vibes from her. I figured that I'm probably just being paranoid.

But then again, my parents never me go to Aunt Jackie's house alone, for reasons I never quite knew, so maybe my paranoia is justified.

I suppose I have no choice but to give her a chance either way.

I am utterly amazed at how much my mom's suicide affected me, especially when she seemed to not care all those years. It is absolutely amazing how much it all hurts right now. It doesn't even feel real. My brain can't seem to fully process that Mom's never coming back. She fucking sacrificed herself to save me. Why save me? Why? I just tried to kill myself, so why would she do this?

But I know the answer. I've known the answer this whole time: to make sure I feel obligated to live.

I don't want to live, though. If I were at my house right now, I would be trying overdose/bleach round two, this time with my arms spewing blood as well. I can't really say that I want to die, I just don't want to live, especially now that I know someone cared about me, and she's dead. My brain hates me, and I can't stop thinking about it.

"Nina, there's someone at the door who wants to talk to you."

It's probably one of the cops. I begrudgingly get up from my seat at the table and drag myself down the hallway to the door. Aunt Jackie is blocking the view of the cop with the door, until she sees that I am very close. She quickly goes back to the kitchen, likely at the request of this unknown officer.

"Charlie? What the hell are you doing here?"