She stood there,
Looking at her phone,
Hoping her best friend would call,
Tell her its alright.
Five minutes later;
The pills and water were out,
Knife was ready,
The blade glistening in the sunlight that escaped the curtains.
She kept glancing at the phone.
Another five minutes;
Knife poised
Ready to strike.
The water’s started to warm up.
Still no call, nothing.
‘Maybe she doesn’t care’ she thought.
The knife drags through the skin…
Five more minutes;
Red, pulsing marks have appeared up and down her arms.
Still no call.
Water’s warm,
Pills are ready.
‘Five more minutes’ she tells herself.
Five minutes more;
Still no call.
‘It’s time’ she thinks.
She reaches for the bottle of white pills
And the warm water…
Five minutes later;
She stood there
Pills in one hand,
Water in the other,
Remembering the good times.
Blood drips onto her carpet,
Snapping her out of her trance.
Automatically her hands came up to her mouth
And she swallowed.
Five minutes later;
The entire bottle was gone,
The room was spinning out of control.
A door opened,
She was falling into a deep dark well,
Blackness creeping into her vision from the sides.
Suddenly she was caught
Her vision cleared just enough to see her best friend holding her
Besides her friend was her mom
Dailing 911,
Weeping.
‘Too late’ she whispered.
Her hand unclenched to reveal the empty bottle.
She reached out to her mom
Wanting to be comforted,
Tears rolling down her cheeks
Like when she was a little girl.
‘I’m scared’ she clutched her mom’s hand.
Looking at her friend
Who was still holding her,
Crying.
Her vision clouding again.
‘Thank you’ she said.
And she breathed her last breath…
