𝖣𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝖢𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 [on hold]

29 | funeral

XXIX / twenty-nine

✧𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐀✧

⚔︎Trigger warning: this chapter contains mentions of mental health, suicide, and depression.

She wipes a few tears from her face and stiffens up. Mr. Spencer is standing beside her, comforting her as she prepares herself to give her speech.

"That day, I had an important appointment. I was so tangled with work, but I didn't want to miss out on his ceremony, because his father was out of the city. Thus, I woke him up early in the morning so we could have the opportunity to take pictures and to cherish time with him on the day his life would change. Turns out it was also his last day."

She cries. Her husband caresses her back. I whimper. My dad quizzes my shoulder.

"I left him home and went to work having in mind that I would have the opportunity to come back home in time to drive him and assist him in whatever he might have needed since I would be out for only two hours or less." Her voice breaks, "On my way back, I get a phone call. It was him. Firstly, when I picked up, I could only hear his breathing. His heavy breathing. Then with suffocated breaths, he said to me: "Mom, please come home. I think I'm dying". That moment as a mother, I thought it was the worst thing I could ever hear. I thought of calling someone, but there was no one to call. My husband wasn't in town and every friend of mine was already heading to the graduation ceremony."

I remember that morning was one of the happiest of my life, I didn't think my friend would be losing his life at the same time I felt the most alive.

"Somehow I managed to drive with my shaking hands and a heavy heart. I arrived home and immediately rushed out of the car and into the house. I don't even remember if I left the door opened or closed, I only cared about my son's life. The words he said to began to consume me alive because I did not understand. He wasn't sick, he had no medical record. I didn't know what was happening."

My eyes water even more. My soul is being torn apart, my bones feel weak, my heart shatters and breaks into a thousand pieces. The pain is getting worse.

"There was this weird music playing. His father and I didn't like it when he played those types of music, but he always insisted." She slightly smiles, "and the house was a mess. I figured he had been looking for something to ease the pain. I followed the music, it was coming out of his bedroom."

She stops. Takes a deep breath and sweeps a tear from one of her eyes.

"I was already startled since the call, but seeing him there, in his bedroom, laying on his bed, having spasms, shattered me. I was quick to sit up by his side and hold him in my arms. I placed his head on my lap and looked at him the most puzzled I've been. Then my eyes began to roam and found two empty bottles of pills laying on the floor. They were my husband's hypertension pills."

She weeps. Why did you do that Kade?

"He noticed my eyes were on those bottles and said: "I took them all" then his eyes flew back to mine. I looked at my boy, he looked exactly like my father. He had such beautiful brown eyes."

"Between spasms, he said the words that stuck with me. I thought him saying 'i think I'm dying' was the worst thing I could hear, but it wasn't. The worst thing is hearing your suicidal son, on his death bed said: "I don't want to die anymore, mom". Those were the words that broke me."

They break me, too. As a matter of fact, they destroy me. They my heart into powder and I feel it exciting my body as I let out a heavy breath.

The words stick to my mind. 'I don't want to die anymore'. The thing I sometimes used to wonder about: do people who take they're own life feel regret on the last moments of their life?

Apparently, they do. Kade did.

"He knew it what was coming, and he knew it was inevitable. So did I. In that moment I knew I lost my son. And I will never know why. His body kept having spasms and a white foam began to leak out of his mouth." She cries.

"His last words before he closed his eyes were "I'm sorry". I watched as my son's soul was being ripped out of his body. I watched him die."

Oh Lord.

"I stayed there with him in my lap, crying and grieving for the whole day. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't leave."

I am a crying mess. The only light thing I can feel are the tears on my cheeks. Other than that, it all feels heavy.

"For the whole day, I blamed God for allowing this to happen. I thought about all the stories of suicide attempts gone wrong and compared them to my son's. He regretted it, but it was too late for him. Yet other mothers can say their sons wanted to do it but failed. I blamed God because in his last moments my son didn't want to die but he still did. Then I realized it's not God's fault my son is gone. It's mine and my husband's. We should have been better parents."

She pauses for a few seconds before standing firm again. Her husband is rustling things in her ear, she nods.

"I summoned to his friends' parents to come and hear my story because I need you to understand that your kid's life comes first. Not work, not social status. Make time for them, spend time with them. Show them you love them. Don't expect something they can't give you. Accept them for who they are and please don't make them feel unworthy of the life they have because you brought them into this world and it is your job to be there for them in every moment. Not only be a mother or a father but be also a friend. Have a relationship with them. And kids, talk to your parents, trust them. Don't suffer on your own, there's people that care about you. People that love you for who you are and more. And that goes for every single person that is I'm here."

I panic. I feel like I'm dying. I can't control my cries and my whimpers. I need air, I can't drag air down to my lungs, I can't breathe.

At the moment I could care less about manners and respect. I am panicking and if I don't stumble my out of this place, I will eventually end up breaking down and fainting on spot.

Therefore, I stand on my feet with my hand placed over my chest while I begin to walk. It is pounding hard against my chest, I can feel every beat of it on my hands. This rapid beating is preventing me from breathing, it's creating a nod on my throat, and it's getting bigger and bigger.

I did air, air is the only thing I can stand right now, the only thing that'll make me feel alive again.

But Kade has no air, all the air inside this church won't make his life come back to his body.

I hate myself for allowing those thoughts to invade. The moment I'm out, I see Hunter sitting on a bench, looking at the sky.

For a moment my mind begins to question why he is just sitting there as if nothing was happening, but the air in my lungs isn't enough to enable my voice to make a sound, thus, I fall onto my knees.

The world is spinning, the sounds of voices, traffic, animals, nature are muffled and silenced by m pulse. It's all I can hear.

I thought coming outside would make everything better, but for some odd reason, the air is thicker.

"Rebecca!" my dad calls out from behind. I don't turn around, I bend over my body and place my head on my knees, making me see darkness.

Now I can see what I've been feeling. Complete and utter darkness.

"Dad, go back inside. It'll look really bad if both of us are outside."

"It will look worst if I leave you outside having a panic attack," he utters once he is beside me and places a hand on my back.

I appreciate this gesture like any other. He has never done something like that, I've never felt comforted by one of my parents. This is a new experience.