Alone [manxman]

seventeen:: when you make amends.

[i'm so tired by Lauv and Troye Sivan]

VOTE AND COMMENT PLS

SEVENTEEN: when you make amends.

I knew that the first step to leaving peace when I left would be to make amends with those that I had wronged. Maybe I had a determination to be remembered fondly or maybe I just knew it would be cowardly to skip out without getting my affairs in order but I knew that I didn't wanna leave with people still angry at me.

It had been a long drawn out plan in the back of my head when Danny had dragged me to the clinic down the street... which was an Urgent-Care after I profusely alerted him that the only way I'd go was if the school wouldn't be informed.

I sat in the car alongside him, thinking up ways to apologize and I kept quiet at first. I kept quiet as the doctor was checking me out, sure that the bill would come through mail and I put my college mailbox as the recipient, my dad wouldn't get a bill after I killed myself, that would be cruel.

I sat on the examination table, my head swimming from the pill I'd taken and maybe the mood regulation and suppression was amped up by the alcohol because I felt eerily calm.

And I ignored the questions of my well-being and my mental health, staying silent only answering with shrugs and almost-silent one-word answers.

'Do you have a history of depression?'

yes.

'Do you take medication for it?'

yes.

'Is that what you've taken?'

yes.

'Are you at risk?' That one took nearly a second too-long before I shook my head. I didn't need to be put on a suicide watch-list, that wouldn't benefit anyone.

no.

She'd asked Danny to leave then, eyes lingering on a clipboard of all the medical tests they'd done before I'd came into the room and there wasn't much she could do, that much was obvious. She would go on to tell me that I didn't have any alcohol poisoning but mixing it with my meds didn't do me any favors. She'd say to lay off for a while, sleep it off and asked if I had a therapist.

And I nodded, my eyes still hollow, body still shivering underneath baggy clothes, I hadn't eaten in a while and I knew my bones were protruding, my collarbones the most prominent.

Maybe Paul would find me attractive now.

Laughing cynically to myself, I nodded on my way out, sluggishly and I knew that there was no real hiding my depression.

I wore it all over me, the bags under my eyes so intense they made the green in them muddy, I didn't move with energy and I certainly didn't intend on speaking much. I was a living embodiment of all the sadness I'd carried for so long and I was finally okay with it.

That had to be the worst part -that I was just allowing it to overcome me. I sat idly by while it took the steering and I was coming to terms with it, it swallowed me whole and I didn't mind because, honestly, I'd messed up so long being in control of my own life, it was nice to live on autopilot for a while.

It was eerily similar to those days my pills didn't seem to work, those days I'd lay in bed from sunrise to sunset, crying sporadically but mostly staring at the blank wall, hoping the pain in my chest would ease. Hoping depression would let me breathe, if only for a little while.

Briefly memories of Jade sitting beside me and combing through my hair passed through, her fingertips twirling in the strands as she hummed the excerpt of a church song we'd grown up on. Despite faith being an anomaly in our family now -and her only knowing part of the chorus- it brought me comfort, if only a little.