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Memory of a Suicide Attempt Survivor

Memory of a Suicide Attempt Survivor

 “Okay. Yes, I have the rest of the work. Tomorrow.” I knew better than anybody else that the work was very well sitting on my desk at home, most likely covered in slightly tacky acrylic paint and a thin layer of dust. I rubbed my collar bones compulsively, again, and continued on with my journey to the seat. I still remember where it is, or was. It was three rows back on the leftmost row of desks if you're looking at the front board. About 10 feet away from the door, and as close as possible to said door. I remember this so precisely because it took me half an hour to decide- close to the window...or door?

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