Breathe (because life is worth the pain)

The yellow paper

Dear Lisa,

I can without any doubts say that I'm a good speaker and never have I ever felt loss for words but now I don't know what to say. I can't bring myself to think what you felt to take such a step. The police officers might think they have got it all figured out, but I know it wasn't mere slip of tires. After months of intense thinking, I had finally gathered the courage to say something to you but when I park my car in your street, I see you storming out of the house and even from five yards away I could make out the tears on your eyes. I'm sorry I didn't stop you from getting into your grandmother's old car, I shouldn't have chickened out but curiosity got better of me. I wanted to know what you'd do. I wanted to see if you had a sanctuary; somewhere you went to find peace.

I never regretted anything more. I should've stopped you when I had the chance.

The moment your car went off the cliff, a part of me died. I don't know why I'm even writing this. It must be because this is the only way I can express myself right now or because I have the hope that you'll wake up to read this and maybe you'll forgive me someday.

Lisa, I'm so sorry that you had to go through everything alone. Please forgive me.

—S

I blink rapidly carefully examining the yellow paper on my hand. Is this the part where I start hallucinating before drifting into oblivion?

Surprised, confused, shocked or petrified I don't know how I feel.

This can't be real, who would send a note to me? My brain must be making things up, that's the only possible explanation. Stuck in this room for quite some time, I've thought of several things, imagined myself being in places that I'll never be. I guess all the pills I swallowed are taking a toll on me.

My gaze shifts to a wooden clock on my right as an alarm rings signaling it's time for my medicine. Any moment now the nurses will walk in for a routine checkup and it wouldn't need a genius to figure out what I did. One glance at the missing drugs and they can add two with two. My heartbeat accelerates as million thoughts flood my mind. Please don't let them figure out, please let me die before anyone walks in.

After five minutes of pure agony and a billion thoughts crossing my mind, I feel bile rising up my throat and I start chocking. The chocking isn't heavy and it spreads an odd form of comfort throughout me, assuring me that it'll be over soon. But as I take a look at my hands, there still is the yellow note and the comfort flies out the broken window.

Does it mean this is real? Who would send me a note? Who wants to talk to me so bad? Above all, who knows I attempted suicide?

My vision has now got blurry and I kind of feel dizzy but my senses work perfectly. I give a final look at the empty bottles and another note beside them. I can feel myself burning up and my eyes feel heavy but I have to read them. I reach out for them but I accidentally hit an aspirin bottle and it falls with a loud clatter.

I start coughing as I bend to grab the paper. My hands are sweaty and I feel discomfort of all sorts. But nothing matters now, it's only a matter of few minutes before I die and before that I have to find out about these notes.

Dear Lisa,

Let me tell you a story.

The sun was shining brightly when a guy walked through freshly mowed grass. He wasn't with his friends for the first time at school which should've made him uncomfortable, but honestly, he felt liberated. He was away from all the unnecessary chatter and "show off". All he could think of was why he hung out with them anymore when someone caught his eye. She was under a tree, engrossed deeply in a copy of The Book Thief. Her hair was in tangles and her dress was dirty but she didn't seem to care. She was so into her book that she didn't realize the bell go off.

She was an enigma that completely hooked him. His eyes couldn't look away. He kept staring at her with thousands of questions in his mind. Why was she sitting on dirt when she could read in a sanitized library chair? Why wasn't she in class? And where were her friends? Did she have any friends?

He wanted to approach her and tell her that she was beautiful, not just the plastic beauty the girls in his group had but the innocent beauty. The kind that makes you want to her tight and never let her go, the kind that makes you want to give her all the happiness in the world and do stupid dances just to see her lips curl.

And then, standing a few away something happened that he can still picture the exact details of the moment. He had taken a permanent screenshot of her smiling and that was the rarest smile he'd ever seen, not just because the smile enhanced her beauty but because that was the only time he'd seen her smile.

I might sound like a creepy stalker but don't worry I'm not. And honestly, I don't really care because every minute I spent looking at you, it's worth it.

The only thing that I regret is I didn't talk to you when I had the chance. And now, no matter how hard I pray, no matter how much tears I shed, I'm not certain that I can ever talk to you...

Please wake up Lisa. Please. It kills to watch you—

The last thing I see before blacking out is a tall figure running towards me.