Just Breathe

Chapter 7 {Phone Call #4}

"Thirty....twenty-nine....twenty-eight..." He quickly picked up the phone, not even worried about how eager he sounded. "Hey." The line on the other end was silent and his eyebrows came together in confusion as he spoke one more time. "Hello? Riley?" The sound of a girl clearing her throat on the other end caused him to smile a bit, but it was replaced with a frown when she spoke.

"Hey." She spoke softly and it sounded as if her voice could break any moment.

He leaned forward, suddenly becoming very concerned. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah...I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You just sound like you've been crying or something."

She shook her head, once again forgetting that he couldn't see her. "No...just tired...I guess."

"Oh." He said simply, but he knew it wasn't that simple. "Are you sure?"

She shook her head once again and lowered her head as tears fell from her eyes. "No." She stared down at the razor in her hand as her tears fell to the floor.

"I know you think I'm a smart ass but I have been told I'm a pretty good listener. Think you could give it a try and tell me what's going on? I really do want to help you, Riley but it's kind of hard to do when you won't tell me what's happening on the other end of this phone."

She choked back tears and her voice came out weak and broken. "You want to know what's happening on this end? Right now...I'm starting at a razor...and I want nothing more than to run it over my wrist like I've done a thousand times before only...this time...I want it to be the last...I don't want to feel...anything...ever...again."

He swallowed the fear rising in his gut as he sat up straight and began speaking to her desperately, knowing her life depended on it. "Riley, I know it seems like the answer right now and I know things must be really tough in your life for you to resort to this, but things will get better...you have to believe that. Why don't you just...just tell me what's going on. What happened today?"

"Nothing happened today. It's what happens every day. It's the pain in my chest that won't go away. The fear I push down my stomach every time I hear her car pull into the driveway. The numbness I feel towards life with every sip of alcohol that passes through my lips. I just want to NOT feel....I just don't see the need to breathe anymore." She whispered the last few words, sending a cold chill down Jonathan's spine with the seriousness behind them. 

"Please, Riley...just don't. I'm sorry I don't have an answer for why you're feeling like you are and I don't have a reason for why or a time on how long it will last but all I know is whenever I'm feeling like giving up I think of the one person who keeps me moving. There has to be someone, just one person who keeps you moving...anyone. Think about them. Think about why they would want you to keep moving, think about why it's important you keep moving...for them."

She laughed softly and the sound was heartbreaking. "Right now, Jonathan...you're about the only reason I got."

The sound of that made his heart beat rapidly in his chest but he knew it wasn't right and it was the saddest thing he had heard. How could the girl not have any reason for living other than the person she barely knew on the other end of this phone? "Come on, Riley...one reason...one person...I know there's someone...anyone."

The silence on the other end became unbearable, but she finally spoke and it sounded as if the tears were letting up. "Yeah, you're right. There is one person, but he's not here anymore. He died and it's just another reason for me to do this."

Jonathan lowered his head to the table with a feeling of hopelessness. "Damn, you're right. I do suck at this." He mumbled, not necessarily expecting her to hear, but what he heard on the other end put a smile on his face. He heard laughing. 

"How is this possible?"

"What?" He asked softly.

"Laughing...you saying something and suddenly...I want to put down the razor."

"Then do it...please, Riley...just put it down." He whispered and practically begged her through the phone.

"For how long? It never lasts. I put it down then pick it back up. I stop crying for a moment then find tears streaming down the next. I feel okay then...nothing. The crisis center is only open for so long, Jonathan. You're only available on the other end of this phone for eight hours a day. It happens in a single moment. One slit of the wrist, one too many pills...the list of ways to die goes on and on...believe me, I've considered them all."

"555-6345"

"What?"

"It's my cell phone. It's on every day, twenty-four hours a day. Any moment, any time you feel like giving up...I'll be there. Promise." 

"Why are you doing this? What makes you care so much?"

"I...I don't know. I haven't figured that out yet, but I just know that I do care...about you."

~

"You gave her your number?!" Peter exclaimed in disbelief while standing on the opposite side of the swing set. Jonathan was pushing Timmy on the swing set while explaining himself to Peter and it wasn't going very well, to say the least. "What were you thinking, man?!"

"I was thinking; hey, this girl seems like a complete loon, why not give her my phone number?" Peter stared on with wide eyes, one of his many issues that prevented him from sensing sarcasm. Jonathan rolled his eyes with a smirk. "She's hurting, Pete and she just needs someone to talk to. Who knows, maybe we can help each other."

"Or maybe she's completely insane and murders you in the middle of the night." Jonathan's eyes widened in frustration and he motioned down to Timmy who was swinging in between them. Thankfully, he hadn't been listening and continued chuckling, his legs taking him higher and higher each time he pumped. Peter cringed after the realization and mouthed a "sorry," before continuing their conversation. "I'm just saying a few conversations does not make you an expert on this girl and as a friend, I'm going to tell you I think you're getting too attached too quickly."