Short Stories

Sunflower

[This story is inspired by Unrequited by springbts . The way their story was written so far and how it seems like it's written in a letter, it inspired me to write my own version. This story has mature content and themes that are not suitable for younger audiences, reader discretion is advised. This story contains mentions of suicide.]

A young boy fresh out of high school walks along a road. His mind currently occupied with thoughts of a loved one. Until he passes by a bridge, what he witnesses horrifies him. He notes that a notebook is left behind.

After he called an ambulance and the police, he opens the notebook. This is what he reads:

Hello, reader.

I know we probably don't know each other, I assume you're curious as to why you're finding this. I would be curious as to why you took it upon yourself to read it, but that's your choice, not mine. I can't stop you, nor can I verbally warn you not to read further. I'll just say it now. I wouldn't continue on if I were you.

Since you're still reading, you must be curious. Why did I do it? To answer that, let me take you back. Let's go back before I met my sunflower, before I knew what my life had become. Don't take this lightly, but again, I can't stop you from doing so.

I never knew when I realized I was depressed, I just knew that I didn't want to live on anymore. Why should I feel sad though? I have amazing friends, my classes weren't too hard since I was only in middle school, so why end it? It wasn't my school life or social life that derailed me, it was just me.

I tried to please everyone, I normally succeeded in doing so. Although, no matter what I did, I couldn't please them, my parents. They always wanted more from me. I always did most of what they wanted me to do, while trying to keep a piece of myself in the process. I guess they didn't want that.

My appearance, it wasn't one of a 'girly girl' like they wanted. My hair used to be long, but then I cut it short, very short. They didn't like it. I hardly wore dresses or skirts, it was always skinny jeans and hoodies. They didn't like it. I tried my hand at wearing dresses as much as I could possibly handle. It wasn't enough. I always had weird, perverted gazes directed towards me in public. They didn't care. They say I like the attention when I didn't.

Here's an instance when it happened, I still thought about it until recently.

The school bell rang, signalling for students to pack up and leave, even if the teachers insist that the bell doesn't dismiss you, they do. We all packed up anyways. Walking out of the high school doors, I had met up with my friend, Cameron. He was new to our sophomore class when I decided to befriend him. He seemed relieved at the time too.

We both walk the same way towards our house until we have to turn different ways at a corner by a busy street.

We were on our way, both talking about how our classes went, and if anything eventful happened. I of course always had male students that never met my eyes, but their eyes glued to my chest. I wore a white dress that day, the dress wasn't exactly low cut, but I was cursed with having a bigger chest. I wore my hoodie in school to cover up since my over jacket didn't help.