Leave The Light On

Trigger warning: suicide

He's here. He's really here. We’ve talked for months. He even told me he was coming- I really didn’t believe him, but here he is. He’s wearing a black long sleeve button up- buttoned up to his neck- and some blue jeans. I shake my head no, smiling at him, slightly laughing. I go to walk up to him but then remember that he won’t recognize me. He walks over to a locker. I smile- it's great when the universe knows what you want and need. I walk to my locker which is right next to his.

“Hello.” His voice is exactly how I imagined it- deep yet pure. It kinda reminded me of the tuba.

“Hi,” I answer calmly though my heart was pounding.

“I’m Dante. Dante Stover.”

“And I’m a clown with a tear-away face,” I answer quoting one of our favorite movies. I then walk away as fast as I can.

“Hey! Wait up!” He hollers making the teachers glare his way. I keep going until I enter the art room. The bell rings with a loud BIIIINNNNNGGG! I figure he's in band class- right across the hall. I’m anxious all during class- I wonder if he got my joke.

“Now, you can start your first project after you discuss your subject with me. Do you all understand?” Mrs. Fleming said but I wasn’t really listening. I watch the clock. Finally the bell sounds- BIIIINNNNNGGG! It makes me jump. I run out and head straight to my locker. He’s not there yet but I see him coming out of the corner of my eye. He looks right at me. He starts barreling towards me, I throw on my jacket and head for my next class.

By lunch, I could tell he was getting tired of my cat and mouse game. I get three or four people behind him in the line. He sits at the table farthest from the door. I follow. I sit down. He has earbuds on and doesn’t notice me. I open my lemonade and take out my sketchbook and start drawing. About five minutes later I hear a quick intake of breath. I look up.

“Hello.”

“Hi? You're not gonna run away are you?”

“Nope,” I say with a sight smile.  

“Why where you running away?”

“Cause I wanted to see what you were like before I told you who I was.”

“What does it matter who you are?”

“Yea I think, at least, it should matter to you.” My mind then runs to the idea that he doesn’t care. Was this a bad idea? Should I just let him figure it out himself?

“Why's that?”

“Cause we’ve been talking for months, Dante”

“Wait, are you telling me you’re Anna May?”

“Yeah,” My heart feels heavy and I can feel my face turning red, “This was a stupid idea. Sorry.” I stand up and run away.

‘God damn it, Anna. Why do you make things so awkward?’ My brain asks. Suddenly he’s right behind me.

“Anna,” I turn towards him expecting rude words but instead he continues, “I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re brave. You quoted a really good movie and I was wondering who you were like all day. I think you wanted me to figure out who you were before you told me yourself. I kinda thought it was you but didn’t want to chance it. You’re smart.”

“You talk a lot,” I say in a disgusted tone but with a smile on my face.

“Yeah...” His face turns slightly red.

“That’s okay. I will too once we start really talking.” I say stupidly.

Months go by and we become closer. We hardly leave each other's sides during school. We could talk for hours about our dreams to be actors, writing stories together, and (once in a while) about our parents and home life.

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It was the last day before winter break. My morning had been pretty bad and I couldn’t help but cry on the bus. I thought I would be safe- he had told me the day before he was going to have his uncle drive him. But no, the bus driver stops and on comes Dante. Dang it. I’m screwed. I can’t lie to him. Others would just think I’m asleep but he knows I can’t sleep with my paranoia of the bus crashing. Crap, crap, crap! I’m a mess- he’ll know. I pull the hood of my coat over my head. He sits in the seat across from me.

“Are you good?” My breath catches. Does he know?

“Y-yeah. I’m f-fine.” Dang it. My voice broke on the word ‘fine.’ Damn it.

“No- you’re not.” He has a sharpness in his voice that cuts and reopens the wounds made by my mother.

“Yes, I am. I have to be.” I say the words that I have been repeating in my head for years now.

“No, you’re not and you don’t have to lie. You don’t have to be fine. You just have to be you. Don’t let her words cut you. Don’t let her push you off the edge. Just forget about her. Only one more year till we can leave and you can forget them altogether.”

“A lot can happen in a year Dante.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” We were now pulling into the circular drive to get off. I put my bag over my shoulder, and pick up my binder and basically run off the bus. The day is barely better than my morning. I end up ignoring him all day. This choice is pretty lonely since he is my only friend. I don’t want to talk to Dante so at the end of the day I write on a sticky note:

DON’T CALL

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Winter break goes so fast. I don’t hear a word from Dante. I guess it’s what I wanted. New Year's Eve comes and things are worse than usual. My parents leave. I shower and think about all my hidden scars. No, I don’t cut. That would get me put in an insane asylum- besides I hate seeing blood. I get dressed in my favorite outfit and blow dry my hair. I pile it up in a bun and dialed his number. He doesn’t answer- oh well. I walk upstairs and grab the longest scarf I own. I stand on a chair under my ceiling fan. Rinnnng! Rinnnng! Rinnnng! I jump. Oh well- if it's him it’s too late. I don’t want to talk anymore. I’m done.

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I hear the faint sound of a truck-

vroom, vroom, vroom.

I hear the faint sound of a fist on the door-

knock, knock, knock.

I hear the faint sound of someone running through the house-

up the stairs-

thump, thump, thump, thump.

All sounds stop.

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I’m on my bed. Dante is sitting at the end. I sit up.

“I’m sorry.” My voice is weak.

“For what?”

“Everything. Not talking to you. For giving up so easily. Everything.”

“Don’t be,” He scoots closer, “A, I wish you would have told me this. I know what you're going through and honestly, I know that feeling.......you know my past. I want to live my life to the fullest now. Now I help my friends through hard times like this. A, I know it fucking sucks.

“You think no one cares and it feels like the world is crumbling around you…feeling horrible and committing suicide won't solve anything. Actually, it will only make things worse for other people...like me. Trust me. Four years ago one of my old friends died from suicide because his parents divorced and he was bullied more than anyone. He did so because he thought that would be the best… choice, but it wasn't. When he died I... I wanted to just hide forever and never come out. I don't want to lose another friend A.

“I just can't- I don't want to lose you or for you to feel bad at all. I really just want you to be happy. I want you to have a good life because I-I really care for you. And that's why I’m telling you all this stuff- not to make you cry. I’m doing it because I trust you and I really do want to help you. I want you to feel happy and when I tell you I will always be here for you...please take it as a real thing no matter if it is night or day. I will always be here to help you as much I can for as long as you need me too.”

By this time I crying huge wet tears. He gives me a big hug and I wrap my arms around him loosely. He goes to stand up and we break apart.

“Get some more rest,” he moves over to the light switch, “I’m gonna make some ramen noodles for us.” I shake my head. He goes to turn off the light.

“Okay, but leave the light on.”