FicWad

I never thought my life would be like this.

I missed so many things and so many people. Everyone changed over time. Everyone.

Best friends became acquaintances and people that mattered died before you could tell them how much they actually mattered. The one constant I’d always had was the death wish I carried with me everywhere. I wanted to die so badly. I’d been the one that wanted death, so why was she the dead one now?

This was my third attempt.

I was used to the white walls of the hospitals I always woke in, but this time I’d hoped against hope that I wouldn’t wake- and if I did… I’d wake to find out if Heaven or Hell was real.

The pain in my head and the constant beeping notified me that I was still on Earth though, still surrounded by the living- and I was still alive, just dead on the inside.

The door opened again and I averted my eyes, not wanting awkward conversation to begin. I especially didn’t want to be asked if I was okay. If I was okay then I probably wouldn’t be lying in this hospital bed after an attempted suicide.

Once I realized the person who had entered the room wasn’t looking at me, but was instead tidying up I glanced at her. She looked young, too young to be here. She looked younger than me.

She was pretty.

I hated pretty people; they were rarely pretty on the inside.

She didn’t look at me when she spoke, “Are you hungry?”

“No.” I spit the word out hatefully.

Then I realized I was being an asshole, “Yeah, I am.” I admitted, using a softer tone.

“I can run down and grab you a sandwich. Anything in particular?” She finally glanced up and I felt my mouth drop open. She was really pretty. She had dark brown eyes that seemed to burn right through me, leaving me quite speechless.

“Anything works.” I finally worked out, “I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll bring you a drink too.” She replied, smiling kindly.

I didn’t see the pity I expected when I gazed in to her eyes, instead I saw hope. It was odd. It was unexpected but it didn’t change a thing. I wanted to die. Eventually I’d get it right and actually commit suicide, instead of just attempting it.

I started to zone out but quickly snapped to attention when the girl returned, “You’re young.” I blurted out, as she placed a tray on the counter beside me. She moved something in front of me and then I had a tray over my lap. Handy.

“You’re young too.” She replied, not thrown off balance at all.

She placed the smaller tray in front of me, on the pull out mechanism. “Yeah, but you can get admitted to the hospital at any age.” I informed her, “You work here.”

“Kind of.” She answered, glancing at me as I took a sip of the apple juice she’d brought up for me. “I’m just a volunteer.”

“So, you don’t get paid for this shit?” That was weird.

“I don’t.” She chuckled, “I don’t do anything major, I just help out.”

“Why?”

“I just like helping out.” I didn’t know anyone who did something for nothing. What was this girl playing at? She had to have some other reason.

I went silent as I took a bite out of the dry sandwich. She started walking towards the door and I don’t know what made me ask the question but suddenly it was tumbling from between my lips, “When you have no reason to live, what are you supposed to live for?” It came out as a whisper and I sort of just meant it for myself, but it was now out in the room- and she’d probably report me and get me committed or something.

She paused at the door, not turning to look at me. “Yourself.” She finally responded, surprising me. I hadn’t expected an answer at all, and if she gave an answer I expected it to be cliché- like just try harder, or everything happens for a reason.

I bit my lip, listening to the silence building between us and then she finished her blow to my mind, “You’re supposed to fight to find your reason.”

I didn’t know what to make of it but she didn’t stick around.

The door closed behind her and I closed my eyes, letting her words repeat in my mind.





The night passed slowly.

I was visited by ill-mannered nurses, who seemed to hate me. The following day was a drag. I was forced to answer questions about my mental state, but I didn’t want to go through counseling again so I passed it off as an accident.

I was surprised they didn’t call the cops or something. Could they even do that? I had no idea.

I just wanted out.

That girl- she didn’t come back… not until the next night.

I was tired.

I was really tired.

I’d almost forgotten her words.

I sat up quickly as she entered though.

“Hi.” I choked out, finding that I was nervous.

I didn’t know why though.

“Hi.” She responded, smiling.

She had a kind smile, for such a pretty girl.

“I’m Ryan.” I cleared my throat, “Ryan Ross.”

“I’m Samantha.” She stepped a little closer to my bed and I got a good look at her. She was really pretty. I don’t know why but I was stuck on that fact. She was just so damn pretty. “You can call me Sam though, that’s what my brother calls me.”

I nodded weakly, “Sam, I don’t think I want to live anymore.” I don’t know why I was confiding this in her, but I felt I should- and so I did.

Sam breathed out deeply, closing her eyes as if she were in pain. I watched as she slowly, so very slowly, slipped a cross necklace off. I didn’t know what to do when she held it out to me, but eventually I caught on and closed my fingers around it. It was light, and beautiful- something definitely girly. “Well Ryan, I don’t think you’re trying hard enough.” She responded finally, staring deeply in to my eyes.

I just stared back.

Eventually she reached for the necklace, and I thought she would take it back.

Instead she moved around, helpfully putting the necklace on for me. I stayed in place as she snapped the latch in place. “But this is yours.” I finally said, placing my hand against it. It was a loose enough chain so that it could be hidden underneath a shirt. I wasn’t wearing a shirt right now, so instead it was clear against my chest.

“It’s yours now.” Sam informed me, gazing at me with her beautifully dark eyes. “You need it more.” And then she left.