You Have 86,400 Seconds To Find Me

Macy: 12:00pm (68,400 Seconds Remaining)

      As I drive, Lifehouse blaring from the stereo, Sam's Jeep taking me farther and farther away from everything I've ever known, I can't help but think about Max. What was he doing right now? Had he gotten my messages? Was he currently trying to find me? 

   I know that he probably was trying to find me. He is still Max, after all. My best friend. Just because I up and left in the middle of the night, without giving him a call or explaining what was going on in my head, didn't mean he wasn't still my best friend, right?

   I know that Max is probably worried sick about me. I know that he probably feels like he let me down somehow. I would give anything to tell him that he didn't. It was me who let myself down, Max, you had nothing to do with it. I wish, more than anything, that I could call and tell him that.

   But, I know I can't.

   I know that if I give in now, if I just give in right now and call Max, and hear his voice say my name, it will all be over. I'll lose my nerve right here and now if I were to hear his voice. 

   I reach my hand up to wipe off the tear rolling down my cheek. The tears always seem to escape my eyes when I think about Max. When I think about never hearing his voice say my name again. When I think about never again seeing his crooked smile, or watching him climb my stairs two at a time. Max is the only thing preventing me from doing this. 

   Max is the only reason why I put it off an extra twenty four hours. 

   Last night I almost killed myself. I was sitting in my room, listening for my Mom's car to pull into the driveway. I watched the clock change from 9:00pm to 10:00pm, then from 10:00pm to 11:00pm. Around 11:30pm, I realized that she wasn't coming home again. She hadn't bothered to call and let me know, she apparently hadn't cared enough to check up on me or make sure I'd eaten dinner, or even gotten home from school okay. She just... Didn't care. So, I lay there, in bed, letting it all sink in. I lay there and let myself feel worthless, like no one in the world cared about me, let alone loved me. Then, I snapped. It all became too much for me to handle. I got up from my bed, ran into the bathroom and grabbed a bottle of my Mom's pills out of the middle cabinet. I had about fifteen pills in the palm of one hand and a glass of water in the other when I thought about Max. 

   I thought about Max, and how this would kill him, about as much as it would kill me. I thought about how, ever since my father had died, Max had told me to call him if I ever felt like this. I thought about all the genuinely good moments Max had given me since the day he walked into my life and how he didn't deserve this. 

   Max didn't deserve to have his best friend kill herself. Max deserved much more than that. 

   I thought about calling him. I thought about telling him to come over and sit with me and prevent me from doing what I was so close to doing. I thought about laying it all down on the line to him, and letting him into my messed up little world, but I couldn't. 

   I grabbed a bag out of my closet and began packing, tears streaming down my face. I was crying because I was afraid. I was afraid that if I let Max into my head, he wouldn't like what he saw there. I was afraid he would up and walk right out of my life, just like Kelly had. And I was crying because that had been all my fault, too. I pushed Kelly away by scaring her. I scared her by showing her a glimpse of what was really inside of me and she had ran away. What if Max ran away too? 

   I locked the door behind me, clutching Jengo in one arm and my bag slung around the other, as I walked to the nearest bus-stop. When I finally got there, I promised myself that I would wait twenty four hours. I promised myself that I would let Max in, really let him in, and that if, before that twenty four hours ended, Max managed to find me, I would go on living.

   I promised myself that I would find a way to love myself again, if Max loved me. 

   Technically it's already been twenty four hours since I ran away. But, I promised Max he had until the sun goes down to find me. So, here I am. A girl trying to escape just as much as she's trying to be saved. A girl holding on as much as she's trying to let go. 

   I'm about a half hour away from where I want to be. 

   A half hour away from where I want to die...

   The place where I really fell in love with Maxwell Brennan.