*Even though I posted a warning about triggering subjects in the first part of this book, I'm giving this chapter a trigger warning*
Chapter 28
"Are you serious?" Dad asked. "Has Mrs. Goth done anything about it? Seriously, I will call her right now to sort things out."
"There's no point..." I said as Dad reached for his phone, actually wanting to call the school principal despite it being early in the evening. "She's not going to be at the school right now..."
"Then I'll call her first thing tomorrow morning," Dad said. "As soon as the school is open, I'll call them."
I sighed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my hoodie. "W-we don't know for sure... who it was..."
"I thought Jerome said it was his old friends that probably did it," Alan said. "Like Anita, Dirk, and Cheryl. Most likely Anita."
I propped my elbows up on the table, resting my face in my hands. I really didn't want to make a big deal out of this because it would only give my family the slightest idea that my mental health has taken a huge decline. I just wanted everyone to think I was okay.
So they didn't stop me if I ever took things too far.
"What?" Mom asked. "Why would they do that?"
"You should at least tell Mrs. Goth that's who you think did it," Dad said. "Or at least tell her that it happened."
I removed my hands away from my face. "Look, I don't want to make a big deal out of this, alright? It happened. People know. It's over. It's not a big deal."
"Not a big deal?" Ryder asked. "Nolan, you said it affected you. You had a panic attack the moment you saw those pictures."
"I was in shock," I said. "That's it. I don't care about it so can we please just drop it?"
"Nolan, you don't have to lie to us," Mom said. "You're allowed to be upset about this."
"I'm not upset, alright!" I got up from the table and made my way upstairs. Once I got into my bedroom, I closed my door before slumping onto the floor. I was tempted to slam the door but that would only make my family think that something was definitely wrong.
Which they probably already knew, but I just wanted them to think that I was okay with it. That it wasn't a big deal.
Because I didn't know how much longer I could take this pain, and I didn't even feel like I could talk about it. I never could whenever my mental health was at a low.
My breathing was starting to get a bit too heavy, my chest tightening. No matter how hard I tried to steady my breathing, I couldn't. It was just too much for me at the moment with everything that was going on.
Things were going so good in my life for once; getting into art again, becoming friends with Jerome then dating him, painting a mural in the city hall.
And then all of a sudden, things took a sudden turn for the worse and was going downhill all too fast.
I really didn't think I could take this anymore.
Someone suddenly knocked on my door but I really didn't want to see anyone right now. "Whoever you are, just leave me alone."
"I can't do that, Nolan," Mom said.
"Why? Because I'm not trusted enough to be on my own?" I asked.
Mom was silent for a bit as if she didn't know how to reply, because she probably knew that I was right. Well, she probably wouldn't word it as me 'not being trusted enough' and her just being cautious. Either way, as much as I loved my mom, it was making me feel a lot worse. I felt like a burden. My family had to always look out for me every single day, every single moment.
After a few moments, Mom said, "That's not why, Nolan. I just want to make sure you're okay."
"I am okay," I said. "I said I was okay. Why can't anyone just understand that?"
"Because you're always hiding how you're truly feeling," Mom said. "You never tell us how you are unless someone asks you."
"You asked and I told you that I'm okay. So can I please just be left alone for once in my life?"
"Nolan..."
I groaned, standing up and walking away from the door so I wouldn't have to continue this conversation. I just needed all of this to end so I didn't have to feel like crap or feel like a burden anymore.
I flopped down on my bed, sighing heavily as I stared up at the ceiling. I didn't feel like there was anything else I could do about this. I didn't know how to stop feeling like this. I didn't feel like I could do anything I enjoyed. I didn't even think I could handle going to school from now on since I was outed.
Well... I knew one thing I could do. Something that has been on my mind for a while now. Something dark and terrifying.
But thinking about it was giving me some sort of satisfaction. I hated it but... I couldn't help it.
I really couldn't.
Especially because I was still feeling empty. And I knew this wasn't going to go away unless I did something about it.
I sat up on the bed, staring down at my wrists. Normally, I felt ashamed when I looked at it which was why I always had my sleeves covering it. But now... I wasn't feeling anything. Nothing at all.
I got off the bed, taking my phone out of my pocket and placing it on my bed. I walked over to my desk, grabbing a piece of paper and writing I'm sorry on it. I stared at it for a bit, hoping that it would make me feel something. Anything.
I felt nothing.
I placed the piece of paper on my bed beside my phone, then picked up my backpack that was resting beside my desk. I made sure I had everything I needed in it before slinging it over my shoulder. I left my bedroom, happy that my mom was no longer outside of my door right now.
I walked down the stairs, heading to the door. "I'm going to hang out with Jerome so you all don't have to worry about me not being okay."
"We just want to make sure you're okay after what happened," Mom said.
"And I said I'm okay," I said. "I really am. I do love you all for caring but... I don't need to be hovered over like this." I left my house before anyone could say anything else and realize that something was wrong. Really wrong.
I didn't want them to realize anything was wrong.
Once I was outside, I took a deep breath and rested my head against the front door. I just had to get this done and over with.
It took a while to get to the place I wanted, and I was really hoping that nobody was going to be in there. Nobody was, thankfully.
I placed my back on the ground as I walked over to the wall that had the painting I created the first time Jerome brought me here. I never told him about my love for art, yet he knew that was going to be a place that I would love. And because of this painting, I was able to paint a mural for the city hall.
A mural I wouldn't even be able to complete.
I ran my fingers across the painting, my mind thinking about all the moments I've had in here. All the moments I've had with Jerome.
And I still didn't feel anything.
No matter how Jerome had made me, no matter how much I loved him, I just couldn't feel anything.
I stepped back from the wall to stare at it some more. I could see some splatters of paint from when Jerome and I got into a paint fight. One of the best nights of my life. One of the moments where I noticed Jerome was nothing like those rumours that had been spread about him.
I walked over to where I left my backpack, and I sat down on the floor beside it, resting my head back against the wall. I closed my eyes, taking a few deep breaths as I relished in the final moments I was going to have.
When I opened my eyes, I looked down at my wrists. I rolled up my sweater sleeves and slowly started to unwrap the bandages. Once it was unwrapped, I grabbed my backpack and shoved my bandages in there before pulling out what I needed.
And I went through with it.
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so i didn't want to get too descriptive with what nolan did but yes, it's a suicide attempt :(
if this part was triggering for you and you read it and you're not doing too well, please message me. i'm horrible at giving advice but i always want to be here for people who are struggling <3 even if you need someone to rant to, just message me. my inbox is always open.