Storm // dreamnotfound

9- face it

TW: WRITING A S*ICIDE NOTE, MENTION OF PILLS

-George's POV-

It's been a couple days since I last saw Clay and Nick on that sunday night. I've lost my sense of time from staying in my room all day, leaving me with no clue what time, or day of the week it was. My grandparents never really come and check on me, they each are dealing with their own things. I spend all day, everyday wasting away in bed. I hardly ever check my phone anymore either. I put it on do not disturb to help avoid all the phone calls and text messages from the school regarding my poor attendance. I also spend a lot of my time thinking and collecting myself. I realized how I acted without thinking the night Clay and I spoke. If I could go back and change what I said, I would only do it so that there isn't any tension between us. It felt like knives slashing through me anytime I would pick up my phone without unlocking it, to see him spamming me with messages.

I looked over at the alarm clock next to me. 12:14. Great he's on his lunch break, I could call him and explain everything. Heck, maybe even apologize. I thought about what I wanted to say. I wanted to come clean. But first I needed to admit it to myself. I hated thinking about it. It made me feel sick to my stomach. Me admitting to one of the most popular people in the whole school how much I'm struggling with deciding whether or not I like him? No. I couldn't.

But god I wanted to. The more I thought about it, the more I thought about him. Ultimately leading me to realize exactly how I felt. I liked this boy, and he didn't like me back. I wasn't a dense person, but it was obvious. I'm just getting in the way. He doesn't like me back so if he finds out, he'll tell Nick, who will tell the whole school.

I jumped out of bed and stomped to my desk. I pulled out a piece of paper from a drawer and slammed it closed. I found a pen on the desk and started writing, I wrote down everything.

TW: writing a s*icide note

First, I wrote down all the old feelings I've had. I added how Nick made me feel small and useless. I had no intention to give this to anyone, but instead leave it on my bed and do what I needed to do.

Nick, you made me feel so small. Not to mention useless, a burden, and a waste of space. If you could live a day in my shoes, you'd realize how hard it is. You could see the internal damage you've dealt. Along with external damage. You've beat me up time, and time again. My rib cage could be broken, I have hardly walked around, in fear that I would pass out. I don't need an apology, as long as you realize what you've done. You are a leading factor to my death, and I hope you know that, and walk around with it on across your head. "I bullied George to his death"

The next parts I scribbled down was about my parents and how taking care of two old, helpless people is very draining. I knew if I left, they wouldn't have anyone to bring them food, or to do their grocery shopping, or to escort them each around the house when they called. I mean if they could do it just fine in the past week then I'm sure it wouldn't be much different in the future.

I never got to say I love you back to my mum. My messages weren't sent. It's so devastating to lose both of your parents. No matter how much they didn't support me, or didn't agree with the things I did, they went along with it and helped me through anything I needed. I was going to graduate this year without them and it's not fair on me and them to have to graduate alone. Life is nowhere near the same. I have to take care of 3 people, each with varying levels of needs. I'm so sorry I let you guys down. I'll be there soon and we can hug, and tell each other about each of our lives, and how we wish they were different.

At this point, my paper was soaked in certain parts because of my tears. It could rip easily, and the pen ink bled. The last part was the one I was least looking forward to.