"Are you okay, Luke?" Michael asked me.
I'm not okay. I promise, I wanted to answer. It was just like me to make a song reference out of something serious. In all honestly, I'm really not fine at all. I was up all night bawling my eyes out. I want to die. I wasn't okay.
"I'm just tired," I told Michael. "I wasn't able to sleep last night." That may be the only thing I said that was completely true. I was up all night crying, which prevented me from sleeping. I was tired of living—what I said wasn't specific, but it was still true.
I guess Michael had fun with Ashton yesterday. A lot of friends were separated in the making of the groups. Some people were lucky, like Francesca and James. Some lucky pair of people were able to stick together in the groups, but most people were unlucky. Ashton and Michael were separated like most others, but they got to see each other again yesterday. I was happy for them. But Michael seemed a little bit down today, knowing that he wouldn't be able to see Ashton until lunch. He didn't seem concerned with his own problems, though. Michael was concerned with me. He was constantly asking if I was okay. I guess it was nice to know that Michael cared enough to ask, but I didn't need Michael to care. I didn't want him to care.
Michael continued to walk next to me as we were playing some sort of game. We were playing a game with a compass (apparently it was a life necessity to know how to use them), and we had to look for signs that the compass was supposedly going to lead us to. Michael and I knew how to use a compass pretty well, but some of the directions were off.
We didn't talk to each other. Usually, Michael would talk about who knows what. I didn't mind Michael talking. In fact, I liked hearing him talk. Talking made Michael happy, and I liked seeing people happy. But Michael was completely silent, almost as if he were completely mute. I could sense that Michael was sad, and it was coming onto me, therefore making me sadder than I already was. I wanted to ask Michael what was wrong, but I knew I couldn't help him. I was utterly useless. I couldn't help anyone or anything to save my life.
"Okay," our instructor said, "this was the last direction on the paper. You guys are free to go to your next activity!"
All the girls were practically obsessed with this certain instructor. His name was Daniel, and he was British. I had no idea what a British person was doing in an American camp that was on the opposite coast, but I guess Daniel found it nice here. Michael said he immediately liked Daniel when he heard his name, and that was because the instructor had the same name as Michael's stuffed lion.
Michael and I started to walk to the dining hall. We were still surrounded by silence, and none of us dared to make a sound.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Michael asked. I guess he did dare to make a sound.
"I'm sure I'm okay," I replied. I didn't look Michael in the face at all.
"I don't think you're okay," Michael said. "You're not acting like the Luke I know."
"Then perhaps you don't know me at all," I snarled under my breath. Thankfully, Michael didn't hear my snide comment, and we continued walking.
✘✘✘
5/15/14
[Still] Day 4
Dear Calum,
I can't take it anymore. I want to die.
I have no reason why I feel this way. I guess I just feel melancholic. All of these past memories are suddenly filling my brain. I can't help but suddenly remember all of the mistakes I'd made, and it makes me hate myself even more. I can't help it. I just want to find a way to annihilate myself completely right here and now.
If only you were here to help me. But, as I said in my last letter, you are my lifeline, and my lifeline is gone. I was meant to die right now.
I'm sorry, Calum.
I won't even get to say goodbye to you through text.
Forever Yours,
Luke
✘✘✘
"Did you hear?"
"There's going to be a carnival tomorrow."
"We're going to a carnival tomorrow?"
"Will there be cotton candy?"
"There's a carnival tomorrow!"
The whispers I heard from all my fellow classmates consisted of those words. To be honest, I could really care less about some stupid carnival. You wouldn't think there would be a carnival in the middle of nowhere, anyway. The nearest town is about a hundred miles away. Everyone was talking about this carnival, and I couldn't bring myself to ignore the whispers.
It was dinner time, and we were eating barbeque chicken. I ate much less than I usually hate. I only had one drumstick and a cup of frozen yogurt. Michael seemed to notice my lack of food, and he asked what was wrong again.
"Are you okay?" Michael asked.
Out of nowhere, I broke down in tears.
Michael and Ashton took this as a red flag, and they took me out of the dining hall. Some students were already hanging out by the totem pole outside, so no one really questioned our sudden exit. Michael held onto my left arm while Ashton held onto my right, and they look me down the stairs and to the bridge on the opposite side of camp.
"You're not okay," Michael said aloud. My tears have given him his answer. "Care to explain?"
I was hiccupping now. "I—I haven't talked to my best friend in four days. That—that's practically a lifetime! We talk to each other every single day. I—I can't go a day without talking to him, and I haven't talked to him in four days, and—" I started sobbing.
Ashton rubbed his hand up and down my back, trying to calm me down. Michael was trying to get me to talk. I just sat on the bench and cried my heart out.
Michael looked down at me, his green eyes analyzing my entire body. "That's not it, though," he said. "Not talking to your best friend isn't the only thing that's bothering you. There's something else. Something big. What is it?"
I hiccupped again. "I want to die," I murmured.
Michael and Ashton stopped.
"What?" Ashton gasped. The volume of his voice was no louder than a whisper. If I wasn't crying so loudly, you could hear a pin falling on the floor.
"And now," I said with a hiccup, "you're just going to turn away from me like everyone else!" I got up from the bench and towered over the two. "You're going to leave me! Everyone does, anyway! They just can't stand having any relation to a person like me. I don't blame you either. That's exactly what I am. I'm just a stupid, suicidal, depressed freak that no one wants to be with!"
I started to cry again, and this time I collapsed on the floor. Michael and Ashton rushed to my side, and they tried to help me up. I rejected their help, and I got on my feet by myself. I looked over the bridge.
"It's such a shame this bridge isn't so high," I said. "I could just jump off and get this over with."
"No!" Ashton cried. "You are not jumping off any bridge and you are not committing suicide. Luke, there are people who love you—"
"ONE PERSON!" I screamed. "Only one person loves me, and that's my best friend. But you know what? He's the only person that can stop me from committing suicide—he's done it before. But he's in fucking Australia, which is nine thousand five hundred miles away from me. He can't stop me!"
"We love you!" Michael said. Just by looking at him, I could tell he was desperate to try and change my suicidal mind. "Ashton and I love you. There are a lot of people who love you, Luke!"
I let out a deep sigh. "If you're not lying, and most of the time people are, that only makes three."
"Your parents!" Ashton cried out. "Your siblings! Your aunts, your uncles, your cousins, your entire extended family!"
I shook my head sadly. "They don't love me. They always find different ways to tell me so."
"Luke," Michael said, "you have no right to feel this way. There is so much worth living for. Soon enough, we are going to graduate, go to col—"
"I'm not graduating!" I cried out. The tears were streaming down my face again. "I can't graduate because I'm stupid enough to fail math!"
Michael and Ashton stopped again. Ashton had me sit back down on the bench, and he started rubbing my back again. Michael sat on my left, and he looked into my eyes.
"You're not stupid, Luke," Michael whispered. "You're amazing. I'm not easy to be friends with—I'm very picky on who I'm friends with. You just came in and we became friends so easily, and that's hard to do. You're very smart, Luke. You can do whatever you want to do if you put your mind to it. You're good enough, Luke. Please believe me when I say that."
I shook my head. I didn't believe Michael. I couldn't believe Michael.
"Okay, that's not making you happy," Michael muttered. It looked like he had an idea. "Talk about your best friend!" he exclaimed.
"Um," I started. I sniffled, and I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my sweater. "Well, he's from Australia. It was interesting how we met. Er, I really liked the bands that he liked, and I complimented him on his music taste. Then, well, we starting talking, I guess. We had so many things in common, and we would just talk for hours. We talked endlessly for hours, and I loved talking to him. Before I knew it, he became my best friend. I told him all of my secrets, all of my quirks and facts, and I knew everything about him. It was just...right, I guess."
I was smiling. I knew it because my cheeks were starting to hurt.
"Anything else you wanna say about your best friend?" Ashton asked.
I paused for a second. What else could I say about Calum?
"I think I'm in love with him," I murmured.