In A 100 Days

The hard choices we have to make

Tw: Mentions of Suicide

Drinking a strawberry milkshake and sitting on a bench in an empty park while staring up at the arising sun is honestly a whole vibe.

I focus on the pastel colours like I'm studying for an exam to prolong my little moment of peace. Obviously, there was a huge elephant in the room, or rather the park that I needed to address. But I don't want to. Not yet. I take a sip from my milkshake through the straw and sigh.

The ride home from the hospital after I'd been discharged had been completely silent. My Mom hadn't said a word, and neither had my Dad. I think they were still trying to process the news I had gotten a few hours ago. I'm still trying to wrap my head around it too.

The fighting had started almost the minute we'd gotten home. I had quickly fled upstairs to my safe space as I always did when the yelling began, and slammed my door. I tried using my headphones to block out the noise, but for once, that hadn't worked. So I made a rash decision. I snuck out of my house, bought a milkshake from a 24-hour-open Diner and walked to the park.

At 5 AM in the morning.

It was stupid to just leave without telling either of my parents and walk around in the night with no one else with me but I just had to escape. Escape the fighting, escape them, escape the thundering thoughts in my head.

Was it wrong to want to run from chaos for just a little while?

I avert my gaze from the night sky and look around my surroundings. my eyes catch a human silhouette on a bench a bit farther from me. The person is hunched over and it looks  to me like... they're.... kissing their thigh?

I blink, trying to get a clear view of what they were actually doing, but it's no use with how far away from me the lampposts are. So I just stand up, and walk over to them.

I stop about a metre from where the person is sitting so I wouldn't scare them. Up close, I can see that it's a girl. And she isn't actually making out with their legs, but is crying.  Her dark brown hair is down and her hands are on her face. Her shoulders shake, and I can hear her quiet sobs.

"Are you ok?" I ask her without thinking. She obviously isn't ok. I mentally kick myself.

"No." She answers me anyway, wiping the tears off her face. I note how lovely her Indian accent is.

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?". She shakes her head no, so I walk closer and sit next to her on the bench. The girl's dark brown eyes turn to me, and I almost gasp. Never have I seen such heartbreak in someone's facial expression.

"I'm Priya. What's your name?"

"Lily." I answer. I bite my lip, itching with curiosity as to why she was crying. Wondering what the reason behind her pain was. She hears the unspoken question hanging between us.

"The funeral of my best friend Cameron ended hours ago. I'm supposed to be at his home with my parents consoling his grieving parents right now, but I couldn't stay there. I felt like I was suffocating. So I decided to leave and get some fresh air." She hiccups a bit.

I want to wrap my arms around her but thought that might freak her out, so I don't and keep my arms to myself.

"How did he die If you don't mind me asking?". I paused. "Don't feel pressured to tell me if you don't want to".

She takes a deep breath before responding. "He...he committed...suicide 2 days ago. His mother found him dead in his room with a pill bottle beside him. His life hadn't been at all what he'd pretended it to be". Priya lets out a choked sob, and begins to cry again.