You Shouldn't Go Yet

Note: I tried writing in present-tense this time. I'd appreciate if I could get some feedback on how I did!

These preserved parks, untouched by the disgusting hands of humanity, have always been my safe haven. The edge of this steady rock, hidden by thorny bushes and flowers, is my favorite spot. The scratches on my legs and tiny rips on my shirts from the thorns was just a small price to pay for this view. Technically, I shouldn’t be off of the trail, but the dangers of it have been more and more appealing lately. At the edge, I look out to the distant mountains that fade from green, to orange, to white, then back to green as the seasons change. Below me is a sea of balding branches. Below them are rocks under a thick blanket of leaves. The view used to make my stomach drop, but I yearn for the feeling of flying. I’ve been so tired lately. This is the only place I feel awake. Alone. Safe. It would be the perfect place to finally be free. I tiptoe closer and closer to the edge and put my arms out as if I am about to take off into the sky. I feel…

“Meow!”

Huh?

Turning around, I see a black cat standing a few feet away from me. Its orange eyes are ironically giving me this puppy dog-like look. 

“Why are you here?” I ask, kind of annoyed that my place of solitude has been invaded, but I guess it doesn’t actually belong to me.

“Mrow.”

The cat started walking towards me, gently wrapping its tail around my leg.

“Careful! You’re going to fall,” I say, patting his butt to try and get it to walk away. He does, and I follow so it doesn’t get close to the edge again.

“Mroww, meow…”

“What’s wrong? What do you want?”

The cat began walking in and out of the bushes, unscathed by the thorns.

“Look, I’m not in the mood to be bothered, leave me alone,” my patience was thinning.

“Mroww!” The cat let out an aggressive meow, making me jump a bit.

“Okay okay, jeez. If it will make you leave me alone.”

The cat seemed satisfied with my answer. I began following it through the bushes, pushing the thorns out of my way. The stings of the thorns pricking my hands don’t phase me anymore, it has become kind of bland. But as I continue, it is starting to hurt more. Maybe because of how constantly I’m pushing the thorns? It seems like the bushes are thicker than usual. 

“Slow down,” I say as the cat speeds up. He starts to jog through the bushes, as do I. The thorns are starting to hit my face, torso, arms…it hurts. More than it should. I feel like it’s starting to break apart my body.

The cat starts to speed up more, so I do too. Even though everything stings like hell, I keep running, faster and faster. I start to stumble, and then fall. The impact of the grass and dirt feels crushing. 

“Meow,” the cat says, pawing at my face with its nails sheathed. 

I lift myself up and scream, “what is wrong with you?! Who do you think I am? Alice?! I’m not following you through a magical bush anymore!”

The cat meows again, walking further into the dining room of my house, under the chair of my sobbing mother, and to a water bowl that was never there.

I look behind me and see the door that leads to my backyard wide open. My body feels light against the artificial wood floor. It doesn’t hurt anymore.

“Mom?” I say, standing up and walking over to her, “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I don’t understand!” She suddenly screams through sobs that are excruciating for me to listen to, “I don’t understand why he did it! I thought he was doing better! I thought…”

I notice my brother next to her, hugging her and repeating, “I don’t know, I don’t know…”

“What are you guys talking about?” I ask, just to be met with more sobs.

“Meow,” the cat is now standing next to a path of flowered bushes leading into what should be the kitchen. 

It starts to walk into the bushes, and I feel compelled to follow. I take one last look at my mom and brother, then follow the cat into the shrubbery. 

The bushes actually have a somewhat neat path this time, and the flowers feel nice against my skin. I think they are forget-me-not flowers. I didn’t know they grew in bushes. It’s really pretty.

“Where are we going now?” I ask.

Obviously, the cat doesn’t respond. He just stops to look at me, then continues out of the bushes. I follow into a blinding light, and find myself in the art room at my high school. My friends are there, talking quietly in a tight circle. 

“Hey…” I struggle to say. That “hey” was pathetic.

No response. No reaction at all.

Then, one of my friends, Michael, slams a chair onto the floor, “why did he have to be so selfish? Did he not think about us at all?”

“Maybe he wasn’t thinking clearly,” Alyssa said, her eyes so puffy that they look unnatural.

“What kind of excuse is that?” Peter says, hiding his face behind his messy hair, but not enough to hide the tears flowing down his cheeks.

I feel something rub against my leg and look down. The cat is standing next to me, looking up at me as if he was judging me.

“I should have noticed. I should have done more…” Alyssa started to cry, but no tears seem to be coming out.

“I don’t understand why he didn’t come to us. Was it something we did?” Peter’s words started to turn to sobs.

“No! Guys it isn’t your fault,” I start to say, but the cat's persistent meowing interrupts me.

The cat is sitting at another path at the doorway of the classroom. This path was different from the others. It didn’t have bushes or flowers. Instead, it had light blue walls and plain brown flooring. There was another bright light in it, but this one felt more artificial. The cat walks in, and I take one more look at my devastated friends before following him again.

As I followed, there’s a distant beeping that is getting louder and louder. It’s extremely annoying. There’s also a conversation going on, but it’s hard to make out. It’s like it is on a TV at low volume. At least that’s a bit soothing. A strong, somewhat nostalgic scent is starting to fill my nostrils. It reminds me of doctor appointments I would go to as a kid. Thinking about it now, I haven’t gone to the doctors in a while. I should probably get a check up soon.

I can feel my pace starting to slow as I fade in and out of my own thoughts. My body is starting to feel sluggish and achy, and it’s getting harder to move my legs and arms. The cat comes to a pause and looks at me. He hasn’t meowed in a while.

“You okay bud?” I ask him as I catch up, but he barely pays me any mind. He just continues to walk forward again, “ok, rude.”

I follow the cat and step into the source of the artificial light. The beeping is right in my ears. Suddenly, I go limp. I fall onto my back in slow motion, uncomfortable and in pain. I close my eyes, readying for the impact, but it doesn’t come.

When I open my eyes, I see the light buzzing above me. I analyze my surroundings and take notice of the plain brown floors, light blue walls, the conversation continuing on the TV mounted on the wall, and the beeping heart monitor next to me. 

“Oh.”

Author's Note: I kind of wrote this story mindlessly, not even realizing it I was basing it off of something I recently experienced until I was almost done with it. I wasn't sure if I should make the ending hopeful or hopeless, since I don't know what my friend ended up doing. But in either situation, suicide devastates those around you. Whether you care about how it will affect your family and friends or not, that doesn't change the fact that it will affect them. I can only beg that this statement swayed their decision.