Dear Dawson

Dear Dawson-42

  EXTREMELY TRIGGERING.

  A boy with curly, red hair that can never quite be tamed correctly sits in a professional-looking office chair, waiting for his father to finish his last call so he can leave. There's a look of absolute boredom on his face as he scrolls through his phone, not looking for anything in particular.

"Dawson," his father whispers in his direction, covering the speaker on his phone, "I think this is going to take longer than expected, so um, here, go get something to eat. Distract yourself. I'll call you when I'm done."

His father hands him some money- just enough to get something small to eat- and he accepts it from him. He simply nods with an agitated eye roll, annoyed that he couldn't go home when he wanted. He stood up and waved goodbye to his father before leaving, deciding to head to the "Denny's" near his location. He always loved that place. Plus, there was a cliff with a nice view near there.

It seemed perfect, but it wasn't.

He didn't know that, though, so he quickly headed over to the small brick building, his growling stomach only encouraging him further. In no time, he was standing inside the building with a friendly grin as he greeted a waitress with his order.

"Will that be for here or to go?" she asked with a small smile.

"To go please," he answered, thinking he could simply go to the familiar cliff near there and watch the beautiful view as he ate. She only nodded in response before finally taking his order to the back. He sat down in a chair near the entrance, waiting for his food to be delivered to him patiently. He heard his phone ding, signaling he'd received a text of some sort, so he checked it to see Amanda had texted him.

"Hey," it read.

"Hey," he responded quickly, just as his name was being called for his order. He stood abruptly, heading over to the counter and exchanging his order from her for money with a quick 'thank you' as he left, the dinging from the bell at the top of the door signaling his exit. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket once again as he started his way over to his favorite spot, the cliff near "Denny's."  He checked to see another text from Amanda.

"What're you up to?" it asked. He smiled at her text, knowing she actually cared and wasn't just making conversation.

"Eating, what about you?" he quickly typed back then sent as he saw his destination up ahead, heading for it excitedly. He had so many great memories there, and he also hadn't been in quite a while. He ran over to the familiar edge, smiling as he heard the sound of the water below hitting the rocks. It was a fairly familiar sound, and it brought back many heart warming memories. He recalled that he and Kindley had actually spend an abundant amount of time here together. He smiled fondly at the memories before finally sitting down and starting his lunch.

He smiled at the view before taking a bite from his food, chewing it as he looked down into the water. He always loved it here.

The way the sun always seemed to shine perfectly on his spot- not too bright but also not super dark- only added to the love for it. He also loved the way the grass felt against his leg when he sat, like a gentle feather brushing against his skin. He loved the gentle breeze of the wind, causing the soft grass to blow around frantically and his hair to mess up even further. It was worth it, though. He loves it here. He does.

Then, he notices something in the water.

He feels sick.

Is that really her?

His heart hammers against his chest roughly as he just stares at her body, lying still in the water. It feels unreal, like in a moment he will wake up and rush over to her house and she'll be there, watching something stupid on her tv. This didn't feel like a dream, though. It felt like a nightmare.

Did she fall?

Did she jump? No, she couldn't have. She was happy, or she seemed happy.

He never took enough time to notice the tears that slipped through or the way her smile started to shrink. He didn't pay enough attention, and she didn't feel enough.

Maybe he could have changed it, and maybe she should have, but that didn't matter anymore. It was too late. He could change nothing now.

Tears fell from his eyes as his food fell from his hands onto the soft grass, but he didn't care. He needed to get down to her. He stood up quickly, running down the side of the hill and towards the lake.

He knew she was gone, but sometimes, you just need to have a little hope so it doesn't hurt as much.

Because, whether she believed or not, he cared. He cared a lot, but she should have cared more.

She needed him, and he wasn't there. He regrets every time he ignored her glossy eyes, every time he hung up the phone, every time he didn't invite her.

And, soon, tears turn into sobs as he sees her body up close. Blood is pooled around her, and it's a miserable thing to look at. He just wants to hug her one last time, tell her one last time that he loves here.

He does. He loves her.

Loved. Loved her.

He can't love a dead girl.

It hurts so much, and he can't take it.

So, he doesn't love her. He loved her.

His hands reaches to cover his agape mouth as more sobs fall at the sight of her. How could he have let this happen?

He reaches into his pocket, failing at an attempt to gather himself. He continues to sob viciously as he dials 911. It rings a few times before someone picks up.

"911, what's your emergency?" he faintly hears a woman say through his phone, her voice being hidden behind his sobs. He can't control it anymore. He's a sobbing mess, and he can do absolutely nothing about it.

There is a pain in his heart as he continues to stare at her. She was pale and looked so miserable. It was pitiful really.

Sobs continue to rack his body as the operator attempts to calm him. It doesn't work.

"I-I-I," he sobs before attempting to gather himself again just to say one sentence. This spot would never be the same.

"I would like to report a suicide."