Letters to Juliet

Dear Juliet

Dear Juliet.

        Yesterday you noticed me. You even knew my name. It was more than I ever could've hoped for. But then you smiled. And laughed. And that made everything bearable. My 2 mile walk home was filled with that smile. When my mom yelled at me I heard your laugh. And my recurring nightmares turned into the sweet melody of your voice.

      I woke up this morning, actually caring about my appearance. Just in case you notice me again. I want to see the surprise on your face when you realize that I did this to impress you. I might get a haircut. Update my fashion choices. I'm not going to change who I am- That's too big a risk because then I might not love you anymore-, I'm just going to change the way people see me.

     I hope that you'll look at me again. I don't think you realize how much you impact my decisions. Like that one time.

       I hold the gun in my hands, the cool metal of the trigger pressed into my finger sharply. The pain is good in a way, it makes this all seem real. Like maybe I'm not dreaming. Maybe I am about to do something stupid, and that nobody will care, but it will be my own choice. It will be the end of it all. And what a relief that end will bring. My only regret is that I never got to tell you how I felt about you. How you brightened up my day with your smile. I get up and lock my door.

     I return to my bed and sit down gently, making sure the note i wrote is in full view on my pillow. Then I heft the gun up and point the barrel towards my face. I bring it up and place it in my mouth. The metal is cool and has a funny taste, and that almost seems funny to me. Almost. A quick end. I think. I close my eyes, and with shaking fingers I slowly pull the trigger.

    But not all the way. I can't do it yet. I can't end it all just like that. I have to build up the nerve to pull that trigger. To end this existance that doesn't seem to matter.

     I take a deep breath and reposition my hands on the gun. They are cold and sweaty, but I try to ignore it. Tears slowly start to trickle down my cheeks as I realize that this will be harder than I thought. I know I feel like I have to do this, but I'm scared. Terrified, actually.

    I open my eyes once, just so I can remember what the world looks like in my last moments; The color of the sky outside my window, the smell of the fresh Spring air, the feel of the cool breeze blowing against my cold and clammy skin. I close them again, curl my fingers around the gun tightly, and prepare myself for the end.

    And that's when I see you. You look the same as you did at school yesterday, same clothes and everything. You walk up to me, and your smile is so kind. "Don't do this, Dev." You say, and you push the gun down. I let my arm drop to my lap, but I know you're not really there. I'm just imagining you so I can convince myself not to do this. "But it's just so hard, Bethany." I say, and my shoulders shake with oncoming sobs.

     "You'll never love me, and I have nothing else to live for. My dad left me when I was a baby. My mom hates me because I look like my Dad. And all I can think about is how I'm only a burden to everyone. I have no future." I lower my head in shame. You pry my fingers gently from the gun and you set it on the table beside my bed. I let you.

    You put your finger under my chin and lift my head until I'm looking straight into your eyes. They gleam as if with tears, and I feel a pang in my chest. 

    "Who says I could never love you, and that I didn't already?"

    Then you stand, turn lightly on your heel, and walk out of the room.

    I open my eyes. The gun is on the table. The door is open.