I Think I Need Help

Necrosis

December 13th, 2018

I can't take it anymore. Everything is becoming so stressful. I don't know what to do at all. My sister is dead and my parents are getting worse with me. It's like they hate me for being, well, me. I can't get Clyde to talk to me anymore, he just. Stopped texting. I miss him so much. I don't know what happened to him or what he's doing. He won't even answer the door when I go over.

I mean I admit I had been mean to him but things were really stressful for me that day. I was having a really hard time and I ended up telling him off... Oh god, how I regret it. I feel terrible for what I did, how I worded it, how I reacted, just, everything. It's all my fault. I caused this.

I've grown so old, so why do I still feel like crying?

Craig's hand shook and the pencil fell onto the desk. Everything in the last month had been building up and slowly getting at him, his mind barely taking the strain of what happened. His mind seemed to crack and break, his sanity wavering with each and every day that marched on. He leaned forward onto the desk and laid his head in his arms. His entire body shook with the heavy, silent sobs he let out. He forced himself up, his hands pulling at his hair. He felt lost, confused, broken.

Earlier in the month, Craig and Clyde had a falling out. They ended up getting heated with each other over something stupid, and words were thrown.Particularly some that Craig did not mean to say, some that should have been kept in.

"I fucking hate you! I should never have gotten with you!"

Clyde was taken aback by the words. He watched the angered expression on Craig's face for a moment, and something snapped. He scowled, and said,

"If that's really what you think, then so be it. Things may be tough now, but they're going to get so much harder for you." He climbed into his car and slammed the door, starting the engine and driving off.

From the parking lot. At school. Everyone saw everything. It wasn't until the severity of the situation actually dawned on him that Craig realized how many students were actually in the lot. He looked around, his expression changing from anger to one of utter surprise. That was his only ride. He had stopped riding the bus, but now he lost both rides. His mind was racing, he couldn't think straight. Everyone was staring. Their eyes boring into him. Oh god, so many eyes.

He ran, he ran away from the school and off into town. He ran through town, and down through the neighborhood. He ran all the way home. He didn't stop until he was at his door, and collapsed onto the ground, panting. The ground was cold, he was crying.

Craig got up from the chair at his desk, pacing around his room and shaking. He knew what he had to do. So, he sat back down, and began writing. He spent well into the night, writing letters, trashing letters, rewriting them. He spent hours upon hours writing and collecting his thoughts. Over this time, he grew colder and colder. He no longer cried, his expression stone cold and straight. Everything in his mind was at full blast, but he ignored it. He wrote at least 10 letters to various people, but his longest was to Clyde. He apologized for everything he did, everything that he had caused, and the pain he brought to him. He noted that he loved him, dearly, and that he was sorry he had to go. He felt terrible for everything he had said, and he hoped things would work out for the best for him.

Dear Clyde,

I am. So sorry. I am sorry for the things I said, for the way I treated you. I took advantage of you when I should have not. I was selfish, rude, intolerable, insane. Whatever you want to say I was. I deserve it. I was in the wrong, I did not have the right to do that.

I'm sorry for the pain I caused you. I should have had control over what I said, but I let myself go. Deep down, it's killing me. Losing you was the worst thing in my life to have happened. You treated me so good and I threw that all away, with one foul sentence. With a terrible mind. I would blame it on my issues, but I realize that that is not the case. I caused this on my own and brought about problems for everyone.

I love you, dearly, with every bit of my heart. There are things I wish I could say in person, but I must write them down here. I love you, to the moon and back. Through thick and thin, you were there for me, through the pain that I brought to myself and the pain that was brought onto me by others. You didn't run when I was having problems, you stayed there for me when I broke down and cried. You stayed with me all of those hours in the night. You consoled me and took care of me when I had nightmares, when I couldn't seem to bear the pain. You cared for me, and I still care for you.

I want to return all of that for you, but it seems to be I can't I cannot return the favors, no matter how bad I want to.

It appears to be that my time is up, the end of the line has come.

I love you so much, Clyde. I really do. I hope you do well.

Craig

He set the pencil down on the desk, and straightened the pile of paper. He pulled out a box of enveloped from his desk, and placed each paper into one, marking them with their respective named for the receiver. Once he finished, he cleaned up, got up, and went to the bathroom. He ran the bath, despite it being 2 in the morning. He dug around in one of the drawers in the bathroom until he found what he was looking for - a razor blade. It glinted in the light, and he set it down onto the counter. He undressed, letting his clothes fall to the floor carelessly. Dipping into the bath, he took in the hot water, enjoying his last few moments on this dastardly earth.

It wasn't long before the water was stained red, and Craig felt woozy. He stared at the ceiling of the bathroom as he let the cuts in his wrists drain the blood from his veins. He sunk into the bloody water, closing his eyes for one. last. Time.

I'm sinking in,

I can't pretend

That I ain't been through hell,

I think I need help...