I fell into a deep depression. I didn't want to eat or do anything. I didn't want to live anymore. The huge space that Jason took up in my heart was now gone, replaced by humiliation and misery.
One day it got really bad. It was May but I was still the one thing everybody was talking about. That day someone just happened to put the original collage of photos of Jason and I up. That day was also our 8 month anniversary. It was terrible. All day I just kept seeing Jason and Avery making out. I went home and felt like dying.
So I did something about it. I took the biggest kitchen knife and stabbed myself where the pain was, my heart.
When I came too all I saw were bright lights. I thought I had made it to heaven. But I didn't see Jesus, so I asked "Where are you??". The response I got back was definitely not the Holy Spirit, it was a doctor. When I fully opened my eyes I could see the fluorescent hospital lights in my room. There were doctors EVERYWHERE. All around me, checking my everything, making sure my body was still working properly.
I could over hear one of them talking to my parents, they said that I just barely missed my heart by 1 milliliter and instead nicked an artery. They said I was so lucky, but I didn't feel that way. I would still have to see Jason again, and all the other evil people. I hated this.
There was another voice I heard. 2 actually, male and female. I couldn't believe it, it was Jason and Avery. Come to probably get a few more laughs out of me. I turn to my left and there they are. All I see is red, white hot anger.
I start balling. Hysterically crying my eyes out. Sadly everyone notices, and just like that I want to die again. My parents run over and start crying too. So happy that I made it. Apparently they found me when they came home from work but there was a lot of blood so they thought I was gone. I hoped I was.
Jason and Avery also came over, Avery still under Jason's arm. I wanted to scream. Even at my death bed he still couldn't pretend that what we had was real. They don't speak, but they stare at me, and I stare right back. They look at me like I'm a freak and I look at them like they are the devil's angels.
Then Jason speaks. "I'm sorry", he says. I'm sorry!! Like that's supposed to make up for what he did. Just that one little word. "Go to hell", I reply. And I do the only thing I can do to be mean strapped into the hospital bed, I turn my head the other way and flip them the bird.
They try this again for the rest of the week. By the end of the week I was out of mean things to say and they were out of energy from trying to apologize to me.
