I worked at the suicidal hotline for some extra cash so my mom could pay the rent. I didn't work there to listen to the people who wanted to commit suicide. That's not my thing, yet I'm here.
The people who would call really needed help. I did try my best to help them out of their suicidal thoughts, but for many it was just too late.
I was sitting by the phone, almost falling asleep. There weren't that many who called, but I still made money from it, so I guess it was worth it.
Suddenly the phone rang. "Hello, this is California's suicide-hotline. What's your name and situation?" I said sounding as heartwarming as possible.
"I can't take it. Ever since my brother died in that car crash last year--" the voice stopped and took a few short breaths. "I don't want to live anymore.." The voice was drowning in what sounded like sobs.
"It's okay. Just stay with me. What's your name?" I asked
"G-Grayson" he said.
"Okay stay with me Grayson. It's going to be alright."