"You know what we should do when I get out of here? Have a picnic. I love picnics, maybe someday, in the future, we'd get a chance to have a picnic together under the starry night sky."
.
.
.
We talked about having the perfect picnic before her second suicide attempt.
When I couldn't save her.
.
.
.
Her name was Alex.
We met through wattpad and talked for hours on here. Laughing and crying together... she was so sweet and caring. Yet so broken.
I wished I was more of a help than I could have been when it came to her family.
They were abusive and hurt her.
She wasn't getting the proper care yet she was my age. A minor.
Then she texted me one night saying goodbye.
"I can't do this anymore."
She texted.
"What do you mean?"
I asked in response.
Then asked where she was.
Now shit was about to go down.
Alex was on a rooftop, with a knife or a sharp rock... I'm not sure at this point but she had harmed herself from head to toe. Had explained to me that she was bleeding severely and was also having a panic attack.
I panicked as well, and had an anxiety attack, holding back tears while I called my best friend who talked me through it.
I texted Alex from 10.30 pm to 12.25 am that night.
She was so upset and sick of being alive. I could tell.
Ironically, I had planned my own suicide over a month ago at the time and hadn't gone through with it.
I'm writing this so-
She was standing on the edge, I managed to talk her into stepping away; more than a few times.
An hour and a half.
"I just- I can't do this, please..-"
she said and suddenly I couldn't breathe again.
The desperation was right there. She had no hope left. If I could've been by her side, I would've held onto her for dear life.
I would've treated her wounds and kept her in a warm hug but I couldn't.
Instead...
I was stuck in my bedroom, pacing back and forth, while I tried my best to change my friend's mind.
Another half hour with gaps passed and I finally managed to convince her to call someone.
Friends, relatives, the authorities... anyone whom she trusted.
The next 20 minutes were hell because Alex kept on hurting herself. At least that what she had told me.
Then...
"Alex? ALEX ARE YOU STILL THERE?"
I started hyperventilating.
"Hey.."
I held by breath.
It wasn't Alex.
It was a friend of hers. She had listened to me and called someone to help out.
I asked them how she was...
"She was banging her head to the wall when we got here, we're taking her to the hospital, thank you for talking to her."
I felt relief wash over me with those words. Thank whatever God was up there that they made it in time.
.
.
.
"Do you like picnics?"
"Yeah, they're lovely."
"You know what we should do when I get out of here? Have a picnic. I love picnics, maybe someday, in the future, we'd get a chance to have a picnic together under the starry night sky."
"Sure! But I had the dirt and all... and the bugs-"
"I'll protect you from them."
"Then under a clear, starry night sky it is!"
"Yeah."
.
.
.
The next day, however...
She had texted me goodbye and sorry that she wouldn't be having the picnic she promised me.
But I didn't see the text. Or rather just saw the wattpad notification on the bar and didn't know it was from her.
A few hours later...
I got a text from her cousin that said she overdosed on antidepressants and pain killers while she was I'm the hospital.
Two hours later they said she was in a coma.
I couldn't sleep that night and the day it followed, that next night...
"Alex passed, she died. I'm sorry."
What...?
No way.
When-
Shit.
Fuck.
No.
No, she didn't.
She couldn't have.
FUCK.
I had a panic attack after that in my mom's arms. I wanted to relapse. I felt like I deserved it. And I also felt like a coward for not going through with my attempt.
I was pathetic.
I never got over it.
It'll be a year in a month and a half since Alex's death and every time I feel suicidal to the point I'm holding a bottle worth of pills in one hand, I think of her.
I look up and cry.
"Are you happier now, Alex?"
"Is it nice up there, Alex?"
"Does it hurt?"
"Is it painful, Alex?"
"Alex, goddammit talk to me!"
"Alex...?"
"I'm sorry..."
.
.
.
I can't get her name out of my head.
My mind runs a mile whenever I hear her name. I miss talking to her. I miss having a good vent time, both listening and talking. I miss laughing with her late at night.
I miss Alex.
But there's nothing I can do now.
.
Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Font fucking do that shit, it kills you.
.
This is something I can't get out of my head and just wanted to write it somewhere, my therapist said it might be helpful idk how I feel rn.
Anyway thanks for reading and sorry if I triggered something.
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Lazy bean
♡