a looot of drama in this so PREPARE YOURSLEF
warnings: self harm, suicidal thoughts/actions
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[Kellin's POV]
The past week I've been here has been complete and total hell. Aside from what happened with Vic the other week ago, when I talked to his parents, he's been a dick to me. But he isn't as bad as Josh, Oli, Craig, especially Ronnie and Chris.
I could never get a break, everywhere I went they were always there, whether I was at work, or at my dorm or just around campus. I've gotten beaten up by Chris and Ronnie two times this past week, but not as bad as the time Chris beat me up. So I could still function.
I'm tired of the abuse everywhere I go, and if that wasn't enough, I'm almost out of my pills for my nightmares. Which is why I'm walking in the doors of the administration office right now. I was pleased to find the lady from the first day I got here behind the desk, typing away. I got up to the desk and cleared my throat, and she looked up and smiled.
"What do you need sweetheart?" Her voice sweeter than honey.
"I'm almost out of my prescription and I need more." I said as I handed her the bottle. She took it in her hand and examined the bottle, and gave it back to me.
"Let me check your medical papers real quick and then we can get you all set up." She said, accent thick. I nodded my head and waited until she found them, I hope I turned them in. And I hope my Uncle wasn't too lazy that he didn't sign them. The lady spoke after about 5 minutes of silence.
"Alright sweetheart, they're ordered. They should be here in about a week." She handed the pills back to me and I looked at them, there was only about 4 left. That wasn't enough to last me until they got here.
"Wait, I only have 4 left, is there any way that they could get here any faster?" I asked desperately. She sighed and gave me an apologetic look.
"I'm sorry hun. Maybe you can go to the nurse and get a few sleeping pills when you run out." She suggested. I doubt that sleeping pills would keep me from having the nightmares, but I realized there was nothing I could do about this, so I just thanked her and walked out, shoving the pills in my pocket.
Great, what else could go wrong? This past week has probably been equivalent to the week my parents died, I nearly almost killed myself with how much blood I lost from cutting. I did a few a little deep, and they still break open from time to time. They're not deep enough for stitches, but still.
I wondered around the campus some more, trying to find something to do. It was Saturday, and that meant the Jamie and Tony were going to be at my dorm with Vic. I left early, around 7:00 am before Vic even got up. Tony and Jaime didn't give me any trouble when they weren't with Vic, but when they were, the three of them would practically torture me. Not physically, but verbally and mentally.
They would say mean things to me, Tony the most. Surprisingly, Vic didn't participate in those sessions that much. It was usually just Tony and Jaime, but he would throw in the occasional 'loser' once in a while. He ignored me most of the time which I was grateful for, it's better than him constantly putting me down like Ronnie and his group.
Ronnie and his group are so much worse. I can't escape them, it's like I'm their only target and their number one goal is to make me miserable. They tell me to kill myself, and call me the usual fag.
Hell, they even throw stuff like rocks at me sometimes. I felt completely and utterly worthless all the time, I'm practically a living zombie.
I don't laugh, I don't smile, I barely speak, and I barely eat. I only ate 3 full meals since I've been here, the rest snacks and apples. Jack, Alex, and Rian have picked up that I haven't been the same in the past few days. And they're always saying how I'm too skinny and need to eat, but all I see is fat. I won't be completely satisfied until my stomach is completely flat, and no fat whatsoever. You can see my ribcage and hipbones, but I can still grab fat from my stomach. That's not good enough for me.
Whatever, enough about all this weight talk, it'll just make me feel worse. I walked into my dorm building to find none other than fucking Chris sitting on the couch in the entertainment room.
Right away he noticed me, and got up, walking towards me and I started walking fast trying to avoid him. He caught up to me, as per normal, and shoved me into the wall, fist colliding with my face. My head swung back and my jaw felt like it was on fire, but I was used to it, I deserved it.
"That's what you get for being a fucking fag, now get out of my sight." Chris spat at me, before kicking my leg, making it give out, ending with me on the floor while he walked away. I ignored the pain the best I could and hobbled upstairs, before he came back for me.
When I got to my room I was pleasantly surprised to see it was empty, I don't know where Vic was, but I was happy he wasn't here.
I managed to take a nap, update my blog, and tweet a little bit, and before I knew it, it was 11:00. I wonder if Vic will be coming back soon, maybe I should leave just in case.
My thoughts where I interrupted by the sound of my phone ringing, it was Jesse. I haven't talked to him since like last Tuesday. I felt bad, but I just didn't feel like talking to anyone lately. I answered the phone the 3rd time it went off.
"Hey Kells! I haven't talked to you in a while, how is everything?" Jesse said in a hopeful voice. I don't know if it was the hope in his voice, or that he actually cared, but something triggered me and I completely lost it.
"Everything i-is fucking horrible." I sobbed into the phone, unable to control myself.
"Woah, calm down. It's okay, tell me what happened. Are you hurt?" Jesse asked in a worried voice. I felt my heart break even more, letting everything that was currently wrong to come full swing and hit me in the face.
"No! Nothing is fucking okay anymore, don't you understand?! I fucking hate it here along with my existence. Everywhere I go, I get treated like shit by everyone no matter what. I'm fucking sick of it and I can't be fucking happy for one day if it kills me. I haven't been eating, I've cut more than I ever had before, and I'm just tired of living this life of total misery." I exploded on him, unable to control the blabbering that came out of my mouth.
"So you mean to tell me that you have been relapsing and having suicidal thoughts this whole time and you never fucking came to me for help?!" Jesse yelled back, obviously furious and frustrated. It only made me feel worse.
"I thought tha-" I was interrupted by a furious Jesse.
"No, you thought nothing. I'm so fucking sick of trying to be there for you, and you always shutting me out. I have tried to help you the most I can and this is how you act?! Do you want to get better or not? You made a fucking promise that you would come to me if anything happened, and here you are, ignoring me like you always do. I don't think you know how hard it is to sit here and hear you say that you've been relapsing and suicidal. Just listening to you talking about how much you don't want to live, you have no idea what effect that has on me. I have dedicated more than 90% of my time to you trying to make sure that you're okay and caring for you, yet you still chose to bottle it up inside. Well you know what, I'm done. Until you become serious about your recovery and stop treating it like a fucking joke, I'm done with all this. Because I can't keep doing this, worrying about you 24/7, worrying if you're okay or even alive. I can't live like this anymore, and until you make up your mind about how much you want to recover, don't even bother calling me. I'm sorry, but this is starting to affect me way too much, and I can't do it anymore. Call me when you get serious about recovering, but until then don't bother." And with that, Jesse hung up. Leaving me totally shocked and stunned.
The pain I felt at this moment and time is worse than any other person could ever do to me, not any beating could amount to the pain I felt inside. Fuck, it hurt so bad, it started to physically affect me. My chest felt a million times heavier, I couldn't breathe, and soon enough I was hyperventilating, running to the bathroom to throw up because I was so worked up. I couldn't stop crying or shaking, this is just like the time my parents and aunt died. I felt completely alone and helpless. Only this time I officially had nothing left to live for, and I was so ready to end it all.
I got up from the toilet, splashed my face with some water, and managed to calm my breathing a little more.
Tears were still flowing violently out of my eyes as I went over to my desk, took out 3 pieces of paper and started writing.
I wrote one note to Jack, Alex, and Rian on one, then on another piece I wrote a note to Gabe, Jack, Justin, and Matty. And on the last piece of paper, I wrote one to Jesse. It was longer than all the other ones, and the most meaningful.
I apologized for everything I've put him through, and for being a horrible friend. I also told him this wasn't his fault, because I know he would blame himself. I told him to move on and find another best friend that isn't fucked up and helpless. I know he would be able to, he's strong and he doesn't need me like I needed him.
I folded up the pieces of papers and shoved them in my back pocket, getting up and going to the bathroom to look at myself in the mirror. What I saw disgusted me and scared me, I didn't even look like myself anymore.
My eyes were bloodshot and puffy, cheeks flushed and stained from my wet tears that are still flowing out of my eyes. My lips were chapped and my hair was messy and greasy, not having enough motivation to wash my hair. My jaw had a big purple bruise on it, along with my stomach, legs, and arms form the brutal beatings of Ronnie and Chris.
In the middle of taking myself in for the last time in the mirror, the door opened, revealing Vic. He looked almost as bad as I did, eyes bloodshot and puffy, I could tell he had been crying much like I had. We look at each other, possibly for the last time ever, we just stared, taking in one another's complexion. However, Vic was the first to speak
"Um, are you okay?" He asked hesitantly, like I was going to fall apart any second, which I was. I just chuckled bitterly and shook my head.
"I'm anything but okay." I told him truthfully, not holding anything back. What's the point of lying, I'm not going to be here pretty soon. I can't even imagine how pathetic I look to him, but I don't care, it's the last time I was going to see him. I was so set on dying right now, nothing was going to stop me.
He went to say something else, but stopped when I walked past him, and out the door, heading for my final destination. I left my phone there, I wouldn't be needing it. It was just me, myself, and those 3 notes in my back pocket.
I managed to stop crying, keeping my head down, and hands in my pockets. With each step I got closer and closer to my soon to be resting place; the cliff. It was simple, I'm going to jump off of the cliff into the rocks. I would die instantly, it was full proof. As to if I overdosed or bled myself to death. Plus, Vic wouldn't find me dead in the bathroom floor or tub, and it wouldn't scar him for life.
Soon enough I reached the cliff, going over and sitting on the edge, looking down. When I looked down I saw the jagged and sharp rocks, it made my blood run cold. I was basically looking at my murderer, and that's when I lost it once more. I backed up against the tree that was by the cliff, curled into a ball and sobbed some more. Did I really want to die?
I don't know why I'm having second thoughts about this right now, of course I want to die. My life is a total disaster, I'm a fuck up and the only person that ever truly cared about me just gave up on me. If had nothing to live for, than why am I so hesitant right now?
About 20 minutes later I finally calmed down enough to stand up, and walk over to the edge of the cliff. This is it, I'm really going to do this. I let out one more sob before I moved my left foot forward so it wasn't in the grass anymore, but hovering over the rocks, or my soon to be death bed.
I leaned forward, getting ready to walk off the edge when I was pulled back by two strong hands wrapping around my stomach, pulling me into the ground. I landed on top of the person who just pulled me back, but I was flipped so the person was on top of me. I was shocked at who it was, and I tried to get them off of me, but they straddled me and held me down.
"Get off me dammit! I want to die!" I sobbed, "Just let me fucking do this!" I was hysterical, screamed at the top of my lungs. I didn't want to be saved, I wanted to fucking die.
"No, I'm not letting you do this to yourself!" They screamed in a horse voice. It sounded like they had been crying or screaming or something.
"This isn't going to happen to again." They muttered, before breaking down into tears. Putting me in a complete state of shock.
What does he mean by 'this isn't going to happen again'?
More importantly, why would Vic care if I died?