Okay

.Prologue.

Stop, wait a minute. Fill my cup, put some liquor in it.

Just kidding, I'm also not Bruno.

But I do need you all to stop and read this.

*TRIGGER WARNING* <- we will get to this in a minute.

First off, this book belongs to a whole series of books, so if you'd like to read them in order so you don't get any spoilers listen up.

1. Owen
2. Mina minus the epilogue
3. Home
4. Safe minus the epilogue
5. Drew
6. Okay minus the epilogue
7. Mina's epilogue
8. Vows
9. Safe's epilogue
10. Okay's Epilogue

I know, could I have made that anymore of a pain? Probably so stop complaining 😂 just kidding you're awesome. If that's too crazy for you, read them in whatever order you want.

If everyone's reading this in real time and wondering where the hell Vows is it's not posted. Ya'll have to wait.

Secondly and this is important. *TRIGGER WARNING* This story deals with suicidal thoughts, tendencies and actions.

Alright let's get this party started.

                              ———————

"Alright, your paperwork is all done."

The nurse slides a white envelope perfectly stacked with documents toward me. I smile, slightly amused that this is it. This is what they're sending me off with.

Here you go! Six weeks and you're cured! You're welcome for no longer wanting to kill yourself! Live long and prosper!

Six weeks hasn't changed a god damn thing.

"Ready?" A beefy hand lands on my shoulder, squeezing the bone and muscle that's beneath.

"Yeah." I meet Coach Mo's gaze and smile even though I still feel empty inside. "I'm free."

He wraps his arm around my shoulders as we turn to leave the hospital that's been the only thing keeping me here because they literally make it impossible. I tried explaining to the nurse that I needed a pair of fucking drawstring pants because the shit sweatpants they gave me were too fucking big and I was about to flash ever damn person in the hospital. She said "you know I can't do that. You could hurt yourself with a drawstring."

So I smiled at her and walked around with my fucking sweatpants around my ankles for an entire day before a new pair appeared on my bed, all neatly folded.

I may have stuffed them in my bag. Whatever, judge me, they're comfortable.

"You sure you don't want to call your parents?" Mo asks.

I snort. "Positive."

He doesn't push it anymore as we climb into his truck. As soon as we're on the road Mo starts going over everything we've already agreed on.

"Ava got a room all cleaned up for you, is there anything you can think of that you wanted from your flat? I can try and go find it at storage." He asks.

I've already told him no. In fact I told him just to donate all that shit. But he didn't listen, taking an entire weekend of his time to go clean the place out. I've got a phone appointment with a realtor in the area to get it on the market tomorrow. Also thanks to Mo.

Like he can read my mind he asks "sure you still want to sell it?"

I nod, watching as the world passes by me. I've been cooped up in that stupid hospital, playing along with everyone's demands so I could get out. I know I don't have Mo convinced but I think everyone else thinks I'm on the mend. That I don't want to kill myself, not really. Everything got to be too much, I felt hopeless, that's the only reason I turned to suicide after a night of drinking.

Or maybe that's what they wanted to believe because they've got repeat offenders whereas I've never actually attempted. I've only ever thought about it, sitting alone with a razor pressed to my skin, the toes of my boots hanging over a ledge, forcing the peddle of my car to the floor in hopes I just lose control.

I'm not as "high risk" as those repeat offenders are.

"I've got one more thing Drew." Coach Mo breaks our silence.

I let out a resigned sigh. "What is it?"

"You've got to promise me that if you want to kill yourself again, that you call me first."

I almost pull my phone from my pocket and call him to prove a point. But I don't necessarily want to make that promise.

"I know things are hard right now Drew. But we're going to get you through it, you just gotta give it time."

He sounds so confident that everything will change. But nothing's changed. I've felt like this for years. For so long now that I barely remember what it felt like to be happy. To not feel alone. To not feel like an empty broken shell.

"Promise me Drew."

I curse him in my head.

"Drew." He stresses. "I'll turn around and drive you right back to the hospital if you don't and you gotta mean it."

Way to kick me while I'm down Mo.

"I promise." I mutter.

"Say it all." He orders.

He pulls down his familiar street. I haven't been here since high school but it looks relatively the same. All the houses little cookie cutters of each other. Two car garages with a second floor, some muted siding and shudders. It feels more like home than my parents house ever did.

I roll my eyes but give in to him. "I promise before I try to kill myself again I'll call you."

I hope he catches that it's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when.