So hard to breathe when the water’s high
No need to swim I'll learn to fly, so high, so high
-Show 'em What You're Made Of by Backstreet Boys
Quietly pondering her life under her blanket, Emily’s mind reeled as her breath became more labored. There were no holes to let air in, so it was suffocating under the blanket, thin as it was. As routine, she just complained about her life over text and admitted she wanted to commit suicide again to her friends. She didn’t always tell what was on her mind. Her friends that didn’t understand why she made a “big deal” didn’t realize what was really weighing her down. It was always like this, but she never backtracked and explained things to them.
There’s always been that one person who says something. Her teacher pointed her out for not being top in his class anymore. A fellow student in orchestra complained to her boyfriend across the classroom, “Of all girls, you choose her?!” People are always saying things like, “Emily, Roger is so good at violin!” “Wow! Kendall Orchestra and All-State. He’s great!” “The violin’s section leader is really amazing.” Several people say, “Roger, you’re in such an abusive relationship with Emily,” even when she was right there. A close friend laughed at her and prodded a weak point in her when he told her she didn’t do as well as him in the club anyway, so she couldn’t say anything and she should be quiet herself. All she was trying to do was get him and his friend to quiet down during the meeting practice so the other team members could focus. He’s been cold like this since Emily told his girlfriend to break up with him after he made the bad decision of doing extremely rude things to her.
Her chest tightened. It was getting hotter in there as carbon dioxide filled up the space as it was traded for oxygen.
Science, she thought. At least I’m doing okay in science. It wasn’t much of an improvement, though. So what that her grade averages were all above 96? So what she had friends? Her anger flooded out. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t compare to her math teacher’s current precious top 3 students. It wasn’t her fault she just didn’t like orchestra anymore. It wasn’t her fault she couldn’t make friends with everyone, so naturally there would be someone to protest against her relationship. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t an expert buzzer in her club and she didn’t know the information as well as him because she didn’t get enough time to learn all the information. It wasn’t her fault he lost the girl who was just about the best person to have. It wasn’t her fault. Not her fault. It was theirs.
Her mind wandered again. A few tears had leaked from her eyes from thinking all these negative thoughts. Her friend sent a message to her that told her his experience with suicide. He was only 13 or 14 years old.
I USED TO THINK JUST LIKE YOU, AND WAS THINKING A COMITTING SUICIDE. 2 MINUTES BEFORE I WAS GONNA DO IT, I CHECKED MY EMAIL FOR ONE LAST TIME. I REALIZED HOW MANY PEOPLE I WAS ABOUT TO LEAVE BEHIND. I SAID THE NAMES IN MY HEAD, "Mohona, David, Jabari, Bill, Jaiden, Kyle....." AND THE LIST WENT ON AND ON. THEN I CAME TO MY SENSES, AND REALIZED WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ABOUT TO DO. I DROPPED THE KITCHEN KNIFE DOWN AND SAID 3 SIMPLE WORDS I'LL NEVER FORGET. "Fuck this shit." AND WHENEVER I GET DOWN IN THE DUMPS, AND WANT TO COMMIT SUICIDE, I ALWAYS REMEMBER THOSE 3 WORDS. Don't commit, just admit." NOT EVERYONE IS PERFECT OR DESERVER SOME THINGS, BUT LIVE WITH WHAT YOU HAVE. SOME PEOPLE WOULD DIE JUST TO GET A FRACTION OF WHAT YOU HAVE. JUST THINK OF SOME PEOPLE YOU'LL MISS, AND MAKE A PROMISE NOT TO LOSE THEM BECAUSE YOU WANT TO KILL YOURSELF.
True story, bro.
Tears streamed out faster as she thought of some names that would miss her. She gasped for air, but all that there was the heat under the blanket. Her cries choked her. The greetings from her faithful friends, her loyal comrades’ laughter, and her wonderful boyfriend’s voice whispering, “Wo ai ni,” into the microphone over the Skype call.
Emily’s eyes screwed shut, her tears flowing and her chest heaving. Should I suffocate now and get the peaceful death I always wanted?
The song on her laptop stopped.
She laid for a moment, but then got up and replayed the song.
She didn’t lie back down again.