An Endless Mist

I slammed the door to her room open, adrenaline and fear pumping through me in place of blood. I frantically scanned the room, my ears roaring and my eyes stinging with tears I refused to let fall until I was certain. Then, I saw the thing I had told myself over and over wouldn't be there. A scream welled up inside of me, straining against my skin. So, I let out the most horrible sound to ever escape the lips of mankind.

I was sitting alone in my bedroom, scrolling through something on my phone. That's when Angela texted me.

Angela: Hey, do you have a sec to chat?

I didn't particularly feel like chatting with someone right now, so I responded,

Me: Um, I can text but I can't call right now. Sorry

Angela: Oh

Me: Why is something wrong?

Angela: It depends on your definition of wrong

She was being incredibly cryptic. I couldn't talk to her when she got like this, so I tried to respond with something that would end the conversation quickly.

Me: Well, if something were wrong you know I'd help :)

Angela: Yeah

She didn't respond after that, so I returned to my meaningless scrolling. Then, twenty minutes later, she texted again.

Angela: Do you ever think about dying?

That was an odd question. But Angela was an odd girl, and that was why I loved her. So I responded honestly.

Me: Sometimes. But I never get past the funeral. I would never forgive myself if I hurt the people that I loved.

Angela: But what if no one loved you?

I was getting concerned, Angela was odd but she knew we loved her.

Me: Are you sure you're all right?

Angela: yeah

I took her for her word, she would tell me if she was feeling off. I glanced at the clock on my phone. 1:46 a.m. I sighed and clicked my screen off. I rolled over, and fell asleep.

I woke up again in a few hours, and my phone was ringing. I groaned and ignored it. Whatever it was it could wait a few hours until the morning.

I wish I hadn't ignored that call.

I woke up the next morning with a rather hefty yawn. I pulled myself out of bed, and glanced at the clock. 8:27a.m. I sighed and threw on some random clothes. It was then that I remembered the call in the dead of night that had woken me up. I grabbed my phone, and checked my voicemails. It was from Angela. I listened to it.

"Hey," Angela said. Her voice was raspy like she'd been crying. "I-I don't really know why I'm calling. I just-I don't know." she sighed. "You know, I told myself I would give it one more go. I told myself if anyone picks up, and if anyone talks to me, I wouldn't go through with it. Of course, that doesn't mean it was your fault!" she stammered nervously. Emotion began to flood her voice. "I just, I feel so alone right now. You know in the middle of the night when everything kind of just, hits you? Like, when you can't seem to remember the good things anymore? Maybe it's because there are no good things anymore, or maybe it's because you just choose to ignore them. And the thought that nothing is happy anymore doesn't make you sad, either? It makes you numb. Like-like feeling nothing is better than admitting to yourself that you aren't happy anymore. So, you cry. And the tears stream down your face, but you don't feel them, either? And then you cry for hours and hours, and sometimes it feels like only one thing will stop this endless torrent of numbness? Sometimes, you'll carve reminders into yourself of your worthlessness, and pray others will notice, but they never do?" Did she just say what I thought she said? My heart started to thud frantically in my chest.

"Angela," I whispered, reaching for my car keys.

"So you keep going until eventually, even that doesn't make you feel anything? And then you're always tired, tired from smiling all day when you really just want to scream? But not because you're mad at anyone, but because you're mad at yourself from being so weak." I opened my door and sprinted down the stairs.

"Honey, what's wrong?" my mom asked. I muttered something about Angela and ran out the front door.

"So, you start thinking about ways to end everything. Not seriously, though. How could you hurt the people you love like that? But then, the days blur and conversations vanish into the endless mist that seems to shroud your life. You try to focus on the world, but you're like a broken camera lens. You can't seem to force anything into focus anymore. So you begin to let the mist swallow you, and it ebbs away at your very being." Angela started sobbing again. I made it to my car and shoved the key into the ignition, my hands shaking. The car started and I was off, tearing through the streets of my neighborhood. "Then, you start to take those thoughts more seriously and start getting creative. Maybe, you'd dye a cup of bleach blue so that your friends think you're drinking Gatorade. Maybe, you'd go bungee jumping and in a freak accident your cord would cut. Maybe, you'd drop your cigarette onto a long flowing gown, and go out in a blaze of glory." I saw her house in the distance and started speeding. "But then you think of more realistic options. For instance, where could I buy some rope? How do I tie a noose?" My eyes started blurring, but I refused to cry until I knew. "And you call your friends in a last-ditch effort, waiting for some sign to stay. But no one picks up." her voice had dropped out of sadness into hopelessness, which was so much worse. "And now, you're sitting alone, as always. Holding the noose in your hand. And honestly, I'm terrified of dying. But nothing can be worse than what you have to exist through every day." There was shuffling, and the scraping of a chair. "Now, you've tied the noose to the ceiling." I pulled into her driveway and ran for the back entrance. Her parents were away on their respective business trips, and she was alone in the house. I flung open the always unlocked back door and sprinted for the stairs. Angela was no longer crying, and she heaved a deep, calming breath. "I also called to say that I love you. And that whatever happens, it's not your fault. It's mine."

"No, Angela. I should've noticed, should've texted." I said to nobody. "Please, if you're okay, I'll-I'll," I couldn't think of anything. "I'll do anything, just please be okay."

"I guess this is it," she whispered. "My final goodbye. Do me a favor, okay? Don't do what I did. If you care enough to mourn, don't do it for too long. Do what I couldn't. Move on. Don't let the sadness swallow you, too." There was a long pause. I slammed the door to her room open, adrenaline and fear pumping through me in place of blood. I frantically scanned the room, my ears roaring and my eyes stinging with tears I refused to let fall until I was certain. Then, I saw the thing I had told myself over and over wouldn't be there. A scream welled up inside of me, straining against my skin. So, I let out the most horrible sound to ever escape the lips of mankind.

"Goodbye," Angela whispered over the phone as I stared at her limp body, swinging loosely from the ceiling. I sprinted and tried to boost her up, to release the tension from her neck. Her legs held no tension around my neck, and were ice cold. I grabbed scissors from her bedstand and gnawed frantically at the rope. It finally snapped, and her body collapsed. Her beautiful red hair was dull, and her lips were tinged a disgusting blue. Her eyes were pale.

Lifeless.

I screamed and sobbed, but there was absolutely nothing I could do. She was gone, forever.

Still, I uselessly called 911 and tried to explain as I sobbed. They arrived, but there's no bringing back the dead.

Dead. That's what she was now. I couldn't watch as they pulled her onto a stretcher, and she made no motion to stop them.

The worst of it was that she died thinking I didn't care about her. And she would never now. I sobbed alone in the room that now belonged to nobody wanting only to hug the best friend that I would never see again.