Room 213

TW: suicidal ideation

The door was smooth and clean, white marble lined with gold. A silver plaque sat above a misty-glass window.

I stood in front of Room 213. If I opened it, that was it. It would be the last door I would ever open. I pictured everything that had led up to this moment. I let my body fall into something part present and part past. I could wait a few more minutes before my life ended.

Two months earlier…

“What?” I shrieked, my voice tearing my hoarse throat as he rubbed his arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said for the twentieth time. “I’m sorry.”

“You can’t just apologize and leave! You can’t do this to me! You can’t do this to-”

He stopped my fist just before it reached his nose. The punch was hard and fast. It might’ve broken that perfect little face if he hadn’t stopped it.

“Don’t, Sarah. You know you won’t be able to handle it.”

I gritted my teeth. “How do you know what I can and can’t handle?” I screamed at his face.

He shook his head sadly, like I was failing a test or something. “Sarah. Stop crying. You knew this would happen eventually. No one will ever love you. I thought I could.” He paused. “I couldn’t.”

I felt my face grow red.

“Please. This is hard already. I don’t need you crying too,” he continued.

My fists clenched, and just as I pulled my arm back for another swing at his nose, the door opened.

“Sare?” a voice said. I stopped. My brother.

I tried to stay quiet and hoped he would leave, but he walked into the kitchen. His eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

“Sare? Rame?” His voice was slightly choked, and I cursed myself. How could I forget that my now ex-boyfriend was also my older brother’s best friend? And I was aiming my fist at his face? I was already a disappointment to my parents. I didn’t need to become one to Carter.

“Carter,” Rame said, his voice slightly relieved. I stared at my toes, trying to turn invisible.

“What-I don’t understand,” Carter said. He was lying. He understood perfectly. Every. Single. Detail.

“You’re sister-” Rame began.

I staggered back as Carter’s fist connected with Rame’s face. Rame was horrified as he fell flat on his butt on the marble tiles. I was completely and utterly shocked. Carter looked angry.

“How could you?” Carter asked, his voice soft like he hadn’t just punched somebody. “How could you do this to us? To cheat on her - especially with Rebecca!”

I stopped. The name was like a punch to the gut.

Rame’s nose was bleeding, and I thought I saw a little tooth on the floor too. I held back a horrifying smile.

Suddenly I heard sirens. Police sirens. Loud and clear, their noise digging into my ears. The three of us sat there, staring at each other, angry and confused and disappointed. The sirens grew louder, and pretty soon I could see their flashing lights in the corner of my eye. I didn’t give them much thought.

We kept staring. Me, crumbled against the countertop. Carter, standing hunched. And Rame, bloody and beat-up, on the ground of my own apartment.

I didn’t think much of the footsteps coming up our stairs.

Didn’t think much of the way people were shouting with confusion.

Just stared and stared and stared and stared.

“Hold it right there!” a thick, deep accented voice boomed. I turned. Three police officers were aiming guns right at our faces.

The next few days passed by faster than you could think possible. Carter was arrested. Rame was shoved out of my life. I was confused and sad and angry. The police stated that they had video proof that Carter had murdered someone. Carter, the puppy-dog-eyed little boy who had always had our mom wrapped around his little finger, had murdered someone. We both knew it wasn’t true. Both knew something was wrong. Both couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

We watched the video over and over and over and over again. A man, who looked so similar to Carter I almost believed it was really him, was doing something I couldn’t describe in words. Carter looked utterly and out-right petrified. I looked away. How could this be possible? It was like the world was falling apart right before my eyes.

My older brother was sentenced to a life sentence in jail.

Rame and Rebecca hit it off and eloped.

And I sat there, doing nothing.

Rame, the boyfriend I had thought would be the one I would walk down the aisle to.

Rebecca, the girl I had thought of as my best and only friend.

Carter, the older brother I knew was innocent but would never escape his sentence.

Me, the person who had had 33 boyfriends in the past two years and had lasted three months top with only two of them. The person who nobody could love. The person who was hated and despised. The person who didn’t deserve to live.

That week, an appointment was made. It was quick and simple.

Come to West Clerk Station Drugs and Application Hospital.

Go the Room 213.

Lay in a bed. A big, fluffy nice one.

Fall asleep.

Never wake up again.

Present Day…

I thought my hand would be shaking when I reached for the handle. Instead, it could barely move. What I was about to do was final. There would be no ‘Never minds!’ or ‘Um, maybe not!” Once I stepped into that room and slept in that bed, it would all be over. All the pain. All the hate. All the betrayal. All the sadness. All the joy. The love. The happiness. The laughs. Everything would be gone. And there would be no one left to care.

I forced my hand to move, closer and closer and closer and closer to the door handle. I forced myself to breathe, to move move move move move.

One foot. One foot. One arm. One arm. One by one, I woke my frozen limbs up, forcing my fingers to wrap around the silver handle and pull down and out-

“Sarah!” the voice was familiar and desperate. I turned. That voice-

“Carter,” I breathed.

“I’m innocent,” he rasped. “A professional came in and analyzed the video one more time and they figured out I’m innocent. I asked where you were.” He breathed heavily. “I came as soon as I could. Sarah, I’m safe. You-I know I’m not the reason you’re doing this. Just-Please. Don’t do it. Don’t let Rame and Rebecca and all those people who don’t see your worth do this. Sarah. Life is hard. It is. It’s torturous and painful and it can hurt so, so, so, so, so much. It can make your heart shatter without ever landing a blow on your body. It can make your mind crumble without ever saying a word.”

“Then why?” I screamed. “Why live it, then?”

“Because,” he said, “It’s also amazing. Gorgeous. Breathtaking. There are a million things to do, millions of people to meet. There’s an opportunity at every turn. A new friend or a raging enemy. A horrible betrayal…or an amazing new chapter, just beginning to unfold. Life can seem more hideous than anything, I know that, Sarah. I know the arrest was bad for you, but think how bad it was for me. Look. Life is meant to be lived. It’s not meant to be stopped. It’s mean to be lived and shared and hated and loved. Because that’s what makes life so glorious. You never know what’s going to happen next.” He was crying now. “You never know if your little sister is going to be a dull little squirrel or a playful tiger, if your mother is going to hate or love you. But you just live it. You just push and pull and live it. I know I can’t stop you. I know all I can do is tell you how I feel. But, Sarah,” he clutched her arm, “this is how I feel.”

I stared at him. I stared at the door of Room 213. I stared at the exit Carter had just walked through. And I stared and I stared and I stared. And I knew and I knew and I knew. And I walked and I walked and I walked. I walked away from Room 213. I walked away from peace and certainty. I walked forward to betrayal and constantly looking behind your back.

I walked forward to life, the most hideous and horrible and gorgeous thing ever to exist.