Saving Sunshine

She is Not Afraid to Die

TW for this chapter: Sh, mentions of suicide

September 3, 12:08 am

Harley-

I should be happy. My life is good. I am extremely fortunate with my home and my family. I have two brothers who would do anything for me, three best friends who have my back, and I live in an oceanside tourist town. It sounds ideal, but there's something wrong with me. I don't know what it is, but there's this perpetual emptiness that fills my chest every second of every day. I try to ignore it because everyone sees me as a cheerful person. That's my job; I take it upon myself to make people happy. But on the inside I'm rotten. My head is full of negative emotions. I feel it seeping into my heart and my lungs, coursing through my veins. I'm becoming someone miserable. Someone cold. This scares me more than anything. If they saw how I really was on the inside, they would hate me. If they hated me, what's the point in being alive? It's getting harder to be what they need me to be. Harder to live each day.

When my head gets particularly dark with these thoughts, I like to walk on the beach. It's usually pretty nice outside, maybe a little cold and rainy, but peaceful nonetheless. Tonight a storm rages and rain pours down on me. The wind blows through me and the clouds are thick. Lightning bounces within them. I hate storms. They make me sad. They remind me of loss. When I was a kid, we had a big tree in our yard that I adored. I named it Grandpa Tree because I'd never had a grandpa. Everyday I would climb and play in Grandpa Tree. Dad even made a tire swing for me and I would spend hours on it, imagining myself flying away. Then, one night, during a storm, the tree got struck by lightning. Grandpa Tree was completely destroyed. As a kid, I always had hope that he would magically appear, back to his former glory. My logic was that if he could be taken away so suddenly, he could be brought back just as fast. Obviously, that never happened...Now anytime there is a storm I think of Grandpa Tree. Life can be taken at any moment. It's so delicate. So futile.

The waves crash upon the shore. The ocean is an inky black. If I hadn't grabbed a flashlight before I left, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. I stop on the shore, the waves lapping at my feet, and I consider just walking into the ocean's darkness, never to return. I would let the ocean take me away from my thoughts, my problems, my habits. I would have lived and died by the ocean. I take a step towards the water, and then another. I move into the water. Shins, knees, I just want to know what it feels like. The waves are choppy and the sand shifts beneath my feet. I'm waist deep. I can't do this. I stop intending to turn around and go home but instead my arm is suddenly grabbed and I am being forcefully dragged out of the water by someone. I start struggling to get out of their grasp.

"Hey! Whoa! I'm not going to hurt you," A boy shouts above the wind. I point my flashlight at him. He looks to be around my age. He has short, dirty blond hair. His eyes are blue and he looks concerned. Squinting in the light, he continues dragging me. With the force that he's pulling me out of the water with, I know there is no way I could fight him and win.

'If anyone ever grabs you, yell, scream, bite, kick, do anything you can to get away,' I hear my oldest brother Levi's voice in my head. 'And always go for the dick or the eyes.'

No one would hear me if I screamed. The wind and waves are too boisterous. I look at his hand still gripping my arm. With as much strength I can muster I bite the stranger's hand. He curses and lets go of me. I fall on the ground and struggle to my feet. I try running but I trip almost immediately. Curse my horrible athleticism!