How To Save A Life

Chapter Eighteen

I decided to ditch my last class and go home. I was so tired and I just wanted this day to end. Ditching school isn't new to me. I ditch classes all the time. I'm a good student so it's not like I'm risking anything. Also, it's not like my grades matter anyway. They're only there to help me graduate. Since I'm not graduating, grades don't seem to matter.

I went straight to my room when I got home. I locked the door behind me and laid down on my bed. I couldn't deal with the world right now. All I wanted was to sleep and die.

I was just about to drift off to sleep when my phone vibrated in my pocket. I sighed and pulled it out. It was Matt asking where I was since we have our last class of the day together. I texted him saying I decided to ditch our last class and head home. I didn't wait for a reply from him. I closed my phone and threw it across the room and rolled on my stomach, burying my head in my pillow. As I drifted to sleep, I could hear my phone go off a couple of times but I ignored it and fell asleep.

My dreams have been disturbing. In them, I was walking down the cloudy halls of Kingston High School. A gun was in my hand. My combat boots stomping on the floor as I walked. I was stepping over the bodies of my classmates. Seeing the lifeless faces of the people I hated. My forehead was sweating. My hands covered in blood. I stopped, observing the hall around me. The damage I caused looked like something straight out of a video game. I looked at the gun in my hand and brought it up and placed it in the roof of my mouth. I didn't hesitate pulling the trigger.

***

I was awoken by a knock on my bedroom door. "Colin, open up," I heard my dad say. I groaned and put my head under the pillow. "Well, once you decide to be a part of this family, come downstairs. We need to talk to you."

I groaned and threw the pillow off my head. I turned and looked at my alarm clock. It was past five. I've been sleeping for about three hours.

I rolled off the bed and walked over to where my phone was laying on the ground. When I picked it up and opened it, I noticed I had several text messages from Matt and one missed call from him as well. I opened up the text messages, all of them mostly just him checking on me. He seemed worried. He's not use to me shutting myself out. I sent him a quick text to tell him I'm alright and that I was just taking a much-needed nap.

I closed my phone, placing it in my pocket and fixed my hat. I didn't think twice about leaving my room. I didn't care if I was in trouble for any reason. I don't care much. I locked my door behind me and made my way down the hall and down the stairs. My mom and dad were waiting for me in the living room.

They watched as I walked over and sat myself down on the arm chair. "What do you want?" I asked, annoyed. I felt like just going out for a walk or something. The last thing I wanted was to talk to my parents.

"How are you feeling?" My mom asked, ignoring my questions.

I looked at both of them confused. "That's seriously all you want to know?" I scoffed and stood up. "If that's it, then I'm just going to go."

"Colin Christian, will you answer my question?" My mom said. She was obviously annoyed.

I looked her in the eye. "I'm as good as I'll ever be."

I didn't let them say anything when I walked out of the house. I grabbed a cigarette out of my pocket as I walked over to my car. I lit it before I stepped into the car and drove off. I didn't know where I was going and I really didn't care at this point. I just wanted to be left alone which I knew I wasn't going to get if I stayed in the house.

This was the first time in years that my parents wondered if I was alright. I guess I know why they did. I've been doing nothing but ignoring the world for a while. If only they knew how suicidal I actually was. I'm glad they don't know that. They would most likely send me back to therapy and that was the last thing I wanted. I hated it. I have never been good about talking about myself to people. The therapist always asked what was on my mind. If I was still going and told them that what was on my mind was gore and blood they'd probably extend meetings to multiple times a week and send me off to get special help which was the last thing I wanted.