Suicidal Smile

Chapter 3: Discovery

This story is copyright to bnstorymaker

All rights reserved ©2013-2014

: Trevor's PoV:

The next morning, my alarm clock screeched in pain causing me to wake up. I was exhausted and I rolled over a few times after I punched the snooze button. I didn't want to wake up and go to school. Why couldn't I just sleep forever and dream happily about a better life I wished I had, one where I wasn't suicidal or depressed, but one where my parents loved me and I had friends.

For a few minutes, I just laid in bed thinking about how terrible school would be. Maybe I should skip again? When that thought crossed my mind, I discarded it. There was no point in skipping because I would have to show up sooner or later. I didn't want the school calling my parents. I wasn't in the mood to hear their meaningless lectures about how important being on time was and what not. I think I'll save myself the trouble.

When the timer for the snooze button elapsed, I got up and got dressed changing into a green plaid shirt and dark jeans. I brushed my hair out of my eyes as I walked into the kitchen and saw my mother placing breakfast on everyone's place-setting.

I looked at mine quietly scanning the pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast. On my pancakes, my mother wrote, We love you, in whip cream. Despite, the incredible amount of effort my mother took to craft each letter so they didn't smudge I scrunched my face. Who does that to food?!

"Good morning sweetheart. I've made breakfast."

I took my seat and said, "Yeah, I can see that."

My mother didn't say anything and she took her seat across from me. She began to eat her pancakes slowly scrapping the plate every time she took at jab at them.

To take my mind off of the annoying scrapping, I dug into my own food. I grabbed a piece of toast shoving it into my mouth, the crunching overpowering the noise my mother was making.

Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!

"My God, Trevor! Stop eating like a donkey for Christ sake! You sound like a wild animal and you're distracting me from reading the paper," my father snapped next to me as he slapped his paper trying to make an emphasis.

I ignored him and began to eat everything else on the plate. When I got to the pancakes I took my butter knife and smudged all the letters into one glob of whip cream as I moved it on the side of the plate.I didn't want it.

"I thought you loved whip cream, Trev?" My mother said.

I looked up from my plate, "Well, I did before they started making appearances on my food in the form of words."

My mother didn't say anything as she shook her head. The rest of the meal was quiet. When I was finished, I pushed my plate away and got up. I grabbed my book-bag and skateboard and began to head toward the door when my mom called.

"Trev, don't forget you have to speak to a therapist starting tomorrow. Your appointment is at five."

Just great. This was exactly how I wanted to spend tomorrow, a Saturday, speaking to someone who would pretend to listen to my problems and offer some half-assed advice.

"Don't do this Trevor. Don't do that. Do this instead. How do you feel about that..."

I could see it now. The therapist would try to get me out of his office as soon as possible so he could watch the football game that was coming on later. Everything was a priority, except for me. I always came last even with my parents. No one understood me.

I threw my skateboard on the ground and began to travel down the street. On my way, I plugged in my earphones to listen to some music. I decided yo listen to David Guetta's I Can Only Imagine. I figured it was a fitting song for me. The good news was at least it took me away from my thoughts where I could get lost in music forever.